My math teacher put that on the first page of our workbook (still love the effort)
No shit Sherlock
A man goes to the Super Bowl but his tickets are for the upper tier. He spots an open seat on the 50-yard line and grabs it.
The guy sitting next to him says, “Actually, this seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven’t been together since we got married in 1967.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” says the first man. “Couldn’t you find a friend or relative to come with you?” “Nope,” replies the second guy. “Everyone’s at the funeral.”
I was at the museum recently and asked a worker there if I was allowed to take pictures. He replied…
"No, they have to stay on the walls."
His sails went through the roof
When she gets there, she is confused to find everyone furiously cracking eggs, dumping flour, and mixing batter. She turns around and sees an entire section dedicated to decoration, with elaborate concoctions of blueberries, frosting, and tiering at every station. Finally, she sees someone who appears to be in charge. She runs over and asks the man, "what is going on here?" The strange man replies, "everyone here is doing their best to better their souls." Confused at the cryptic answer and curious about the strange man's traditional Mongolian garb, the woman asks him to elaborate. The Buddhist Monk replies, "My dear, having cake is the best way to gain Karma."
But his brother Frank was a monster!
but when I smoke a lot of weed no one calls me… Or texts me… or talks to me… I’m very lonely.
Or should I just keep washing my hands?
"I had an affair with a woman… almost." The priest says, "What do you mean, almost?" The man says, "Well, we got undressed and rubbed together, but then I stopped." The priest says, "Rubbing together is the same as putting it in. You're not to see that woman again. For your penance, say 5 Hail Marys and put $50 in the poor box." The man leaves the confessional, says his prayers, then walks over to the poor box. He pauses for a moment and then starts to leave. The priest, who was watching, quickly runs over to him saying, "I saw that, you didn't put any money in the poor box!" The man replies, "Yeah, but I rubbed the $50 on the box, and apparently that's the same as putting it in."
I responded with "I have a math test tommorow" She looked a bit confused so I said "I thought we were listing things we could cheat on."
Because all the fans left.
There would be a mass confusion.
His pricelist reads: 1 for $3, 3 for $10 A young man stops by and asks to buy one watermelon. "That'd be 3 dollars", says the old man. The young man then buys another one, and another one, paying $3 for each. As the young man is walking away, he turns around, grins, and says, "Hey old man, do you realize I just bought three watermelons for only $9? Maybe business is not your thing." The old man smiles and mumbles to himself, "People are funny. Every time they buy three watermelons instead of one, yet they keep trying to teach me how to do business…"
An American and a Russian died and went to the gates of heaven and hell. They were greeted by an Angel.
The Angel said to them, “Because both of you are sinners, you’re are going to hell. However, you can choose between American hell and Russian hell. In American hell, most people are American and they have to eat a bucket of shit every day. In Russian hell, most people are Russian and they have to eat two buckets of shit every day.” The American responded, “Well, I would rather be encompassed by Americans and just eat one bucket of shit daily.” And he was sent to American hell. The Russian thought for a while before replying, “Well, it sort of sucks that we need to eat two buckets of shit, but I rather surround myself with Russians. I choose Russian hell.” And he was sent to Russian hell. A few years later, they met again. The Russian asked the American how his time in hell was. The American replied, ” It’s not too bad actually. It’s comforting that most people are American there and it feels like home. The only sore spot is that I have to eat a bucket of shit daily. What about you?” The Russian replied, “I feel you. It really feels like right at home, either they forget to deliver the shit or there are not enough buckets for everyone.”
I was just sitting around doing nothing.
I think I might be Lacoste intolerant.
This one time, all the rooms in a hotel were booked. But then comes this one guy, who asks for a room, in the same hotel, and gets one easily.
Because his name was Improvement. And there's always room for improvement.
Because you can't see in the dark
One's Chinese take out, the other takes out Chinese.
All I wanted was one night stand.
He put out his hand and I said "David are you nervous?" He said no so I grabbed his hand looked him in the eyes and said "then why are you shaking?"
I'd probably get bronze.
I mean, how low can you go?
During the first night, the gay man goes to the programmer and tells him they should kill the woman so he could have a normal sex life. The second night, the woman goes to the programmer and tells him they should kill the gay man so she could have a normal sex life. The third night, the programmer kills both the woman and the man so he could have normal sex life.
That must be why everyone calls him the 'supreme reader'.
that he decided to steel it
With a silent “cr”.
You either get twice the usual amount of dad jokes or get stuck in an infinite loop of "go ask your mom"
An old west dime novel writer is out looking for a good story when he wanders into a saloon. He sees a group of rough rider lookin' scoundrels playing poker and he musters up enough courage to sit down with 'em (thinkin' he might get a story out if he was lucky). "Mind if I play?" The others look up with a scowl that would curdle milk, but one looks at the clock and shakes his head. He points out the time to the others and they gather up their chips and go. "Play alone, we're a-leavin'. Wild Bill's comin' to town." The writer is confused, but smells a story brewing; a strong one at that. He hoofs it up to the bar, passing most other patrons on their way out, and slaps a whole dollar bill on the table, "Barkeep, give me a beer and a story, and you can keep the change." After taking a quick glance at the clock, the bartender shakes his head, pours the beer, and pushes the bill back to the reporter. "The drink is on the house, but I suggest you drink it quick and leave. Wild Bill is coming to town." Without another word the 'tender puts his last glass away and walks right out the swinging doors, leaving the reporter in an empty bar. Now fear in his gut tears at him as he hears the emptiness in that bar. This emptiness seems to seep in as he realizes that he's about to be the last man in this town, alone with only the sound of that ticking clock to keep him company. Still, a story of this caliber must be worth something; so he waits… Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, Bong<CRACK!>- Just as the clock strikes the first chime of twelve, a sound like thunder splitting a mountain is heard outside. The reporter runs to the doors to see what it is. In the distance and closing fast is a tornado coming right for the bar. The reporter hits the ground and watches as the tornado comes up to the bar and stops. The wind settles and there is a giant of a man riding a grizzly bear. He steps off the bear, and instead of hitching it, he punches the great beast right in the face <WHAM!>, knocking it cold on the ground. The reporter is so scared he runs back into the bar and dives behind the counter, sure that this is the last of his days. <KaPLOW!> the giant kicks in the saloon doors, and they turn to splinters that imbed themselves into the walls and break bottles and glasses that they touch. The man walks up to the bar, breaking every floor board with each thundering step. He looks down at the reporter and slams his fist on the bar, cracking it down the middle, "GIMME A DRINK!" The reporter comes up, shakily holding out two bottles of whisky; which the giant snatches up, chews the glass tops off of, and drinks down as fast as the amber liquid can spill from the bottles. He throws both bottles in the air, whips out his six-shooter and fires off a round. The single bullet rips through both bottles showering the reporter with shards that rain down. Regretting his curiosity and repenting of his life, the reporter stands on weakened legs and whimpers out, "W-w-w-would y-you like a-another drink?" The man turns to him, fire in his eyes, then glances at the clock… "Nah, I gotta go. Wild Bill's comin' to town."
…you can run but you can't hide!
They're all females, otherwise they'd be uncles
“Man I was at the most awesome party this weekend! We went to this dude’s house and guy had toilets made of pure gold!” “No way!” “Yes way,” insists Fred, “come with me and check it out for yourself if you don’t believe me.” – Twenty minutes later they’re ringing the doorbell at the place. A middle-aged lady opens and Fred eagerly asks her, “Hi! I’m sorry to bother you but there was a party at your house yesterday and my friend doesn’t believe that you have toilet bowls of pure gold!” – The lady looks at him for a moment and then yells into the inside of the house, “Roger, the pig that shat in your trombone is here!”
They must have been itentacle twins.