Originally posted by u/9ducksandamouse, edited by moi
He never slept on the train with his mouth open again… -Martin Mladenov
My boss told me to wear rubber gloves while dealing with customers this week. I told him “Fuck that.”
I’m doing these prostate exams my way.
Last night I sawa host of pale, emaciated figures, with haunted eyes that showed the agony of living death.
It was my first time in a vegan restaurant.
They had no chemistry 🥺
They haven’t done anything!
You get your palm red.
It came completely out of the purple
But I didn’t think that would make any cents
There was this man named John Odd, and he hated his last name. People constantly made fun of it, called him and his wife "The Odd couple", named him "The Odd man out" wherever he went, all that. So he's getting older and writes out his will. And in the will he says when he dies he doesn't want his name on the gravestone. He just wants to be buried in an unmarked grave with a plain headstone, no name, nothing. So he dies, and his wife respects his wishes. So there he is, in his unmarked grave, but everytime someone walks by the cemetery and sees the unmarked grave they say, "Look, isn't that Odd?"
I said, “Yes, but I’m here to get whiskey instead.”
It was a root awakening.
Her: the baby sure is taking his time getting his meal in Me: yeah he is really milking it
He quiets the audience by raising his hand and then begins to speak… "Uno…" "Dos…" And then he vanished without a Tres.
Ones a heated yam, and the other’s a yeeted ham.
When she finds a load of serious bondage gear and fetish mags. She asks her husband "what do we do?" Husband says "I'm no expert, but I wouldn't fucking spank him."
I will find you. I have contacts.
It was pretty time consuming
The Doctors were trying to convince me, I'm actually a Swedish bloke who had forgotten his identity… But I wasn't Bjorn yesterday!
A woman decides to have a face lift for her 50th birthday. She spends $15,000 and looks sensational.
On her way home, she stops at a news stand to buy a newspaper. Before leaving, she says to the clerk, ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how old do you think I am?”. ‘About 32,’ is the reply.’ ‘Nope! I’m exactly 50,’ the woman says happily. A little while later she goes into McDonald’s and asks the counter girl the very same question. The girl replies, ‘I’d guess about 29.’ The woman replies with a big smile, ‘Nope, I’m 50.’ Now she’s feeling really good about herself. She stops at a candy shop on her way down the street. She goes up to the counter to get some mints and asks the assistant the same burning question. The clerk responds, ‘Oh, I’d say 30.’ Again she proudly responds, ‘I’m 50, but thank you!’ While waiting for the bus to go home, she asks an old man waiting next to her the same question. He replies, ‘Lady, I’m 78 and my eyesight is going. Although, when I was young there was a sure-fire way to tell how old a woman was. It sounds very forward, but it requires you to let me put my hands under your bra Then, and only then I can tell you EXACTLY how old you are.’ They wait in silence on the empty street until her curiosity gets the better of her. She finally blurts out, ‘What the hell, go ahead.’ He slips both of his hands under her blouse and begins to feel around very slowly and carefully. He bounces and weighs each breast and he gently pinches each nipple. He pushes her breasts together and rubs them against each other. After a couple of minutes of this, she says, ‘Okay, okay…..How old am I?’ He completes one last squeeze of her breasts, removes his hands, and says, ‘Madam, you are 50.’ Stunned and amazed, the woman says, ‘That was incredible, how could you tell?’ ‘I was behind you at McDonalds’.
I told him to shut the toilet door when he poops.
As a part of their job, executioners are not allowed to high five their victims before executing them.
It’s their job to leave them hanging.
He is Sirloin.
The entire monastery is devoted to the task, each day they all wake up and say their prayers before a humble breakfast and then they begin work. On the anniversary of creating his thousandth copy of the bible since he first joined the monastery two decades ago, brother Gray asks the abbot if he could go and make his next copy using the original in the vault as reference material. Since they've just been making copies of a copy for centuries and given his dedication to the process and his work so far the abbot agrees and brother Gray descends into the vault where he is given access to the only existing and oldest copy of the bible they have. Days pass, none of the other monks are particularly concerned as brother Gray was known to be a perfectionist and was recognized among them as one of the best in his craft. After another week though they become anxious as nobody had really seen him since his descent into the vault, as such the abbot takes it upon himself to check up on him. As he nears the vault he hears a gutteral sobbing, relentless and distraught. The abbot pushes open the door to the vault to find brother Gray lying face down in a heap on the floor, pages of the bible scattered all around. He rushes to his side. "Brother, whatever is the matter? We've been so worried about you. What's wrong?". Brother Gray pushes himself upright, wipes away the tears from his eyes and grabs the abbot by the collar. "The word was 'Celebrate'"
I replied "no, you do" and unplugged his life support.
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…"
He was fired for not putting in enough Shifts.
So when people ask me ‘are you fucking insane?’ I’ll say no, I’m fucking my sister.
Guy : Doctor, my Girlfriend is pregnant but we always use protection and the rubber never broke. How is it possible?
Doctor : Let me tell you a story: "There was once a Hunter who always carried a gun wherever he went. One day he took out his Umbrella instead of his Gun and went out. A Lion suddenly jumped in front of him. In order to scare the Lion, the Hunter used the Umbrella like a Gun, and shot the Lion, then it died! Guy : Nonsense! Someone else must have shot the Lion.. Doctor : Good! You understood the story. Next patient please..
Because Dawn is tough on Greece.
Don't know what I'm going to do in the mean time…