My great uncle died making butter on his farm last week.
It was a really unfortunate churn of events.
It runs in our jeans.
I it helps when I Kant Handel.
He was fired for not putting in enough Shifts.
He was wrong on many levels.
A priest hooks a huge fish Helping him reel it in, a sailor says "Whoa, look at the size of that fucker!". "Hey, mind your language!" says the priest. Embarrassed, the sailor thinks quickly and blurts out, "Sorry father, but that's what this fish is called, it's a Fucker fish". Accepting the explanation, the priest forgives the sailor and takes the fish back to church. "Look at this huge fucker" says the priest, spotting the bishop. "Language, please! this is God's house," replies the bishop. "No, no that's what this fish is called, "says the priest. "Oh," says the bishop, scratching his chin "I could clean that fucker and we could have it for dinner". So the bishop takes the fish, cleans it, and brings it to the mother superior. "Could you cook this fucker for dinner tonight?" he asks her. "My, what language!" she exclaims, clearly shocked. "No, sister that's what the fish is called – a fucker", says the bishop. Satisfied with the explanation, the mother superior says, "Wonderful, I'll cook that fucker tonight, The Pope is coming for dinner!" The fish tastes just great and The Pope asks where they got it. "Well, I caught the fucker!" says the priest. "And I cleaned the fucker!" says the bishop. "And I cooked the fucker!" says the mother superior. The Pope stares at them for a minute with a steely glaze, leans back on his chair, takes off his cap, puts his feet up on the table, pours himself a whiskey and says:" You know what?, You cunts are alright."
Now, I'm completely Hans-free
I have a father figure
I’ll tell you tomorrow.
Terrible joke. Only 3 stars.
I'd be her type.
She had to. We only had one chair.
straightaway I knew he was a keeper
When your girlfriend has to chew before she swallows.
Where’d the Van Gogh?
He had never met herbivore.
He was too far out, man
It’s currently half empty.
Two dogs, a Doberman and a German Shepherd, are in the vet’s waiting room, and the German Shepherd says to the other “What are you in for?”
"Oh," says the Doberman, "I went for the postman. He said I ought to be put down, but my owner pleaded with him until he said that if she got me castrated instead then he wouldn't take it any further. So that's what I'm in for. How about you?" "Oh," says the German Shepherd, "my owner was cleaning the kitchen floor in her bathrobe, and while she was reaching for something under the fridge, her bathrobe fell off, and she looked and smelled so good that I mounted her then and there." "Oh," says the Doberman, "so you're in to be castrated as well?" "No," says the German Shepherd, "just to get my claws clipped."
So I choose not to post it this time around
He gets up off his barstool and immediately faceplants. “Oh, holy crap. I’m drunker than I thought!” He pulls himself up with the barstool, lets go, and faceplants again. “Shit!” He crawls to the front door. He tries pulling himself up with the door knob and door frame. Once again, he lets go and drops straight to the ground. “This is bullshit. I didn’t even have that much to drink!” When he finally crawls to the sidewalk, he grabs hold of a light pole. Again, he pulls himself up, lets go, and immediately collapses. “Shit, this is going to be a long crawl home!” It’s a long, grueling trek, but he finally makes it home. By the time he reaches his front steps, the sky is a light pink and blue and birds are beginning to chirp. As he reaches for the doorknob, it twists and the door swings wide open. He looks up to see his ever-so-livid wife glaring down at him. “Honey, I can explain! I just had too much to drink, and…” “Yeah, I know. The bar called. You left your wheelchair there again.”
At the drop of a hat!
God my ankle hurts this morning.
I would like to thank my legs for always supporting me. And I would like to thank my fingers because I can always count on them.
But it's harder to deter gents. I'll let myself out.
Woman: And a damn good one. I don’t have any sons.