MuriKKKa’s Venn Diagram.
OMG!!!!!! BREATHE!!!!!!!!! BREATHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dad: No, I’m gay Dad. Dad #2: No, I’m gay dad.
Trouble is, none of them work.
Wife made asian food for dinner last night, Tofu/Rice/Veggies/Chicken Wontons. Toddler is killing the wontons and we teach him how to say "wonton" so he can ask for more correctly. As he's stuffing another piece into his mouth I ask him "hey bubba, do you like wontons?" To which my son replies, "No..like twotons" My son's first joke and it's a dad joke…i'm just so proud lol….
A mature woman goes to the doctor and asks his help to revive her man's sex drive. "What about trying Viagra?" asks the doctor. "Not a chance" says Mrs. Murphy. "He won't even take an aspirin for a headache." "No problem" replies the doctor. "Drop it into his coffee, he won't even taste it. Try it and come back in a week to let me know how you got on." A week later Mrs. Murphy attends Surgery and the doctor enquires as to how things went. "Oh it was terrible, just terrible doctor." "What happened?" asks the doctor. "Well, I did as you advised and slipped it in his coffee. The effect was immediate. He jumped straight up, swept the cutlery off the table, at the same time ripping my clothes off and then proceeded to make passionate love to me on the tabletop. It was terrible." "What's terrible?" asked the doctor. "Was the sex not good?" "Oh no doctor, the sex was the best I've had in 25 years, but I'll never be able to show my face in McDonald's again."
She said, “Where would you find the time?” I said, “That should be easy. Next to the sage.”
it just sounds so…foreign
One says to the other, “Do you know how to drive this thing?”
I don’t mean to brag… but my Christmas wrapping is art. I wrap presents like it’s an extension of my soul.
It just so happens my soul is twisted, torn, and barely held together with tape.
A father in law
I call it a homie-hoe-stasis.
And ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name. "So, you're a politician…" "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!" "Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules" Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy dissapears… And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds… Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be right? "Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite… And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But… Where's all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit mis-represented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside…" Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbour!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift, walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cherrily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food-fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear… And they return to their penthouse suite, and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows, and falls into a deep and happy sleep… And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then" says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well… I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell" says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again. The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor-wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf-courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks and the sunshine???" "Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted…"
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I’ve just been reading that, by law, you have to turn your headlights on when it’s raining in Sweden and I’m thinking…
"Who's going to let me know when it's raining in Sweden?"
It was motherfucking gold
But the day before was a Saturday.
Because they have mass
Anna had lost her husband almost four years ago, her daughter was constantly calling her and urging her to get back into the dating world.
Finally, Anna said she’d go out, but didn’t know anyone. Her daughter immediately replied, “Mum I have someone for you to meet.” Well, it was an immediate hit. They took to one another and after dating for six weeks, he asked her to join him for a weekend in Paris. Their first night there, she undressed as he did. There she stood nude, except for a pair of black lacy panties – he was in his birthday suit. Looking her over, he asked, “Why the black panties?” She replied: “My upper half you can see, my body is yours to explore, but down there I am still mourning.” He knew he was not getting lucky that night. The following night was the same – she stood there wearing the black panties, and he was in his birthday suit, but now he was wearing a black condom. She looked at him and asked: “What’s with the black condom?” He replied, “I want to offer my deepest condolences.”
I always knew he liked them young, but that is fucking ridiculous.
Take off the ring and say goodbye to your house.
But it’s harder to deter gents
He even laughs sometimes.
He said: "Dad, can't you just use a sponge?"
She said she just can't take it any longer.
… that's a nom de plume. When you take a name for war, that's a nom de guerre. When you take a name for an eating contest, that's a nom de om nom nom.
Me: Why? Doctor: Because it's distracting.
Her: Wow! That’s impressive! Him: Thanks. Next up, Capricorns.
The second time let me down.
I said to myself, “I’m done with this shit.”
A pigment of your imagination