My nerdy friend just got a PhD on the history of palindromes.
We now call him Dr. Awkward.
But I partied like it was $19.99
I tell everyone she’s into human trafficking.
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."
Thanos’ finger snap would have a greater impact if they found a way to make it seem like half the audience disappeared.
Apparently only DC movies can do that.
Can’t say I’m surprised.
That’s it… that’s the whole fucking joke.
“Yes, we arson.”
The bartender notices him, and decides to ask about his injuries. "So…" he starts off, "How'd you get that peg leg?" "A shark bit off me leg." "And the hook?" "An enemy pirate cut off me hand." The bartender gasps, fascinated by the pirate's stories. "What about the eyepatch?" "A seagull pooped in me eye." "A seagull caused that? How?" The bartender questioned. "Well, 'twas me first day with the hook…"
They’re a little meteor.
Crows had to drink at home.
So I packed my stuff up and right
It keeps giving me mixed results.
He was in the wrong craft.
Because it gets smaller after every mistake I make
A man decided to attend his friend’s funeral. He approached his friend’s widow and after a consoling hug said “Plethora”.
She responded "Thanks that means a lot".
then is Congress the opposite of progress?
Being able to decide who represents each party’s ticket is only part of what makes primaries and caucuses so important to participate in. Sure, you can voice your opinion online easier, but standing up and voting has the ability to make an actual impact in our democracy.To help recognize those who have done their duty and stood up to make their voices heard, we’re awarding user flairs to people who have caucused and voted during the primaries. To help alleviate our workload, we’re doing this in sections. Currently, we’re only giving users flair if they are Iowans who have caucused tonight.IOWANS: CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR FLAIR IF YOU CAUCUSED!Simply provide evidence of your participation (any ‘I Voted’ sticker or other supplemental documents are allowed), and we’ll add a user flair similar to my account to your account.Special Discord Channel AccessVerified voters will also get special access to our exclusive Voter Only Discord channel. To gain access to this, include your Discord account ID in your above submission, and we’ll add you to this channel.Have a good day!
For my liiifffeee to be oveeeerrrr!
Really helped me see things in a different light
Only a fraction of the people will get this joke
…I can't pull anything out in time!
It ended up making him sluggish.
He picks him up, and the guy falls down. He picks him up, guy falls down again. Finally the bartender slings the guy over his shoulder and takes him to an address he finds in the guy's wallet. When they get to the guy's house the bartender stands him up again, and the guy crumples to the ground. The bartender bangs on the door and the guy's wife answers. "Here's your drunken bum of a husband," the bartender says The wife asks, "Where's his wheelchair?"
"Anders?! But honey, he could be your father!" says mom. Daughter replies "Mom, age is just a number!" "I wasn't talking about his age!"
I really don't know what else he wants to see.
Suddenly, the bar is as silent as a grave. A guy next to the blind man leans over and whispers "Dude, be carefull. The barkeeper is blonde and an ex-soldier. The bouncer is also blonde and the reigning box champion of the city. And then there is Joe… he's just released from prison after he broke a dude's jaw and his two arms. He is blond too. Are you sure you wanna tell that blonde joke?" The blind man takes a minute to think about that, turns on his barchair and says "OK, FINE… I won't tell the joke… I don't have the time to explain that joke at least three times."
A college professor asks all of his students to brainstorm and yell out different kinds of stereotypes.
"All blonde girls are dumb!" yells a boy in the back. "Sony!" yells the blonde girl in the front.
But when it happens no one is shocked.
She said, "Yes, the others were at least sevens or eights".
A man came in, already drunk, sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. The man looked around and saw the 3 men sitting at a corner table. He got up, staggered to the table, leaned over, looked the biggest one in the face. And said, “I went by your grandma’s house and I saw her in the hallway buck naked. Man, she is fine!” The biker looked at him and didn’t say a word. His buddies were confused, because he was a bad ass and would fight at he drop of a hat. The drunk leaned on the table again. And he said “I got it on with your grandma. And she is good. The best I ever had!” The biker still said nothing. His buddies were starting to get mad. The drunk leaned on the table again and said,”I’ll tell you something else boy, your grandma liked it!” The biker stood up and took the drunk by the shoulder. And said, “Damn it, Grandpa, you’re drunk! Go home!”