selfish wife, poor husband
Creates backwards sentences saying how crazy it is?
They get toad.
One is really heavy and the other is a little lighter!
Vladimir Putin has boasted that Russia is planning to build a base on the moon. The idea is that astronauts will live there permanently. When they were asked if they really wanted to spend the rest of their lives in a barren, lifeless, empty landscape, the Russians said…
"No. That's why we want to go to the moon."
Then you’ll get a, “Super Cali-Flagger Dipstick Expert Diagnosis!"
Because that's his name.
A plane bagel
When it becomes fully groan.
My wife seems to think it's for dyslexia.
A rip off.
Turns out she was talking about zodiacs. Anyway I've got three months to live.
A gorilla goes into a bar and orders a martini. This totally amazes the bartender, but he thinks, "What the heck, I guess I might as well make the drink." So he mixes the martini. He then walks back over to the give it to the gorilla, and the animal is holding out a twenty-dollar bill. Well, now the bartender is just at a loss for words. He can't believe that a gorilla walked into his bar, ordered a martini, and then actually had a twenty-dollar bill to pay for it. So, in amazement, he takes the twenty and walks to the cash register to make the change. While he's standing in front of the cash register he stops for a second and thinks to himself, "Let me try something here and see if the gorilla notices anything." So he walks back over to the gorilla and hands him a dollar change. The gorilla doesn't say anything, he just sits there sipping the martini. After a few minutes the bartender just can't take it anymore. "You know," he says to the gorilla, "we don't get too many gorillas in here." And the gorilla says, "At nineteen dollars a drink I'm not surprised."
I said "I know. They came out of the closet this morning."
So I turned on the air conditioning.
I mean he just blew up overnight.
The daughter asks, "Mom, why do people think we blondes are stupid?" Her mother replies, "I'll show you", and taps hard on the kitchen counter. Somewhat confused, the blonde daughter says, "Someone's at the door!". The blonde mother laughs. "This is why people think we're stupid. Now watch over the stove for me while I answer the door."
…if it isn't autocorrect…
It would be a travesty.
Now they just call me Dav.
Once upon a time there lived an American biker named Rick. Now, Rick loved to ride his motorcycle, but was tired of driving up and down the same roads, day after day. One morning, he woke up, and decided to travel the world. So he saved up some money, got on a plane, along with his trusty Harley, and set out to explore the globe. For the next few weeks, Rick spent his days riding to and through some of the most popular European cities like Paris, London, and Rome. After seeing all Europe had to offer, he moved on to explore the rest of the world. Over the next few months, he rode through the African savannas, the deserts of Egypt, and even made it to the top of Mount Everest. He was having the time of his life until he reached a small town in China. Unexpectedly, and out of nowhere, a beautiful Chinese maiden crossed his path, causing him to fly off and crash his motorcycle. Apologizing, the maiden offered Rick to pay for the repairs and a place to stay while they fixed his bike. “My name is Yu! It’s an honor to meet you!” the beautiful maiden introduced herself to Rick. It turned out she was the daughter of a rich magistrate, so he spent the night in a small palace in the center of town. However, due to the scarcity of motorcycle parts, Rick had to spend several days in the palace, in the presence of Yu. Over the next few days, she took a liking to him and his strange American ways. As expected, Rick took a liking to her, too. The two quickly became inseparable, but Yu’s father did not approve, for Rick was an outsider. By the time the motorcycle was finally up and running, Rick had fallen madly in love with Yu and refused to leave. Yu begged her father to let him stay, but instead, the Magistrate had Rick banished from the town. He warned him if he ever came back, he would have him beheaded. Rick was devastated, he had no motivation to continue on the rest of his journey. It seemed as though there was nothing left for him in the world, if he didn’t have his beloved Chinese maiden. So he did the only thing any other sane guy would do…. Rick rolled back into town screaming, “I’m never gonna give Yu up!”
Worst way to check your balance. crickets
They are both fine, unless you like food.
But I couldn’t see myself wearing any
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. PHD’s Letter From Birmingham Jail, his response to southern religious leaders accusing his protest movement of being too extremist and badly timed.
I highly suggest everyone reads the full text of the letter linked at the bottom of this post. The mod team was deliberating for days to think of what sections we should link to as an excerpt in this post, when we realized that we were just copying the entire letter at one point. Every word King writes here is powerful.You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.[…]My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “an unjust law is no law at all.”[…]Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.[…]I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.[…]I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.[…]And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as “rabble rousers” and “outside agitators” those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies–a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label.https://ift.tt/2UjhbQc /r/PoliticalHumor mod team decided that this sticky would be a much more effective support action than shutting down the subreddit or other standard Reddit protests, because honestly, those protests don’t do much.)
I said, “I can’t be your brother and assister too.”