Stay off our roads… and my lawn
The man laughed and said “Eh, it has its ups and downs.”
who's there? The electrician to fix your doorbell
The doctor: "It's ok, they're benign." Pirate: "Count again, I think there be ten!"
“Shit I can’t go home like this my wife will kill me” The bartender sees this and says “put a $20 bill in you pocket and when she sees the puke tell her some drunk puked on you and gave you $20 for dry cleaning”. So the guy goes home and his wife sees the puke on his shirt and asks what happened, to which he replies “a drunk guy puked on me and he gave me $20 to pay for dry cleaning”. To which his wife says “Ok well then why do you have $40 in your hand?” “Because he also shit in my pants.”
After all, 2022 is 2020, too!
“Well, son, I could explain it. But it would be better if I showed you.” “Ok, dad. How will you do that?” “Go up to your mom and ask her if she would have sex with her boss for $500,000.” So the son asks his mom, and she responds back with “fuck yeah I would!” The son then runs to his dad and says “Dad! Dad! She said ‘fuck yeah I would!’” “Ok. Now go ask your sister if she would have sex with her principal for $500,000.” So the son asks his sister, and she responds with “Fuck yeah I would!” The son then runs to his dad and says “Dad! Dad! She said ‘fuck yeah I would!’” “Ok son. Now the hypothetical situation is that we are now millionaires. But the reality is that we live with a couple of whores.”
Because Dawn is tough on Greece.
It was a #2!
No text found
she always gazes at me in Au.
It had a bison.
Because it was hotter
A train ploughs into the side of a Catholic girls school bus, killing them all. At the gates of heaven, st Peter asks the girls "have any of you ever touched a penis?" The first girl, Paula, shyly says "I once touched the head of a penis with the tip of my finger." St Peter says "Okay, dip your finger into the holy water, and you may pass through the gate." The second girl, Kelly, says "I once fondled with one…" st Peter replies "alright, dip your whole hand in the holy water and pass through the gate." All of a sudden there is a commotion amongst the group and one of the girls pushes her way to the front. St Peter says "Jennifer! what's the rush?" The girl replies "if I'm going to have to gargle that water I want to do it before Tammy sticks her ass in it!"
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.)
Two weeks ago a dear friend went into the hospital on bed rest with preeclampsia in hopes of keeping her baby in utero a little longer. To keep her cheered, I visited r/cleanjokes every day and sent her jokes throughout the day. She had her little preemie today … only 3 pounds but healthy. My friend told me she really looked forward to the jokes … and I found all of them here. So thank you to all of you who helped keep her cheered while she gave her precious baby more time.
Must be some kind of milestone…
The porn industry can go fu*k themselves for all i care
It's alright, nobody came.
Dad: “We’re having what Mum calls me” Kid: “DONT EAT IT ITS A FUCKING DICK”
Her: what are you supposed to be dressed up as? Me: a walking dad joke. Her: …? Me: I'd be kind of lame.
In Heinz-sight I should have just bought a proper pair
He starts talking to her, and to his luck he finds out she is a prostitute. So, he asks her. "How much for a hand-job?" "$5,000" she replies. "$5,000?? You must be nuts, no way." "Walk with me." She replies. He agrees and they walk for a moment to end up in front of a restaurant. "You see this restaurant? I own this restaurant because men pay me $5,000 for hand jobs." He ponders for a moment. "Damn, they must be pretty good then. Alright." He brings her back to his hotel room. Gets the hand job, and as advertised; it is the best hand job he has ever had. After he finishes, he realizes how perfect she is and asks. "Okay, that was awesome. How much for a blow job?" "$15,000" she replies. "$15,000?!? You are out of your mind. No way!" He shouts "Come to the window." They walk to the window and she begins to point. "You see those three casinos? I own those casinos because men pay me $15,000 for blow jobs." "Fine, how can i say no?" Once again, it is the best blow job of his life. He is writhing in ecstasy after finishing, and practically in love with this woman. "Okay, I am gonna regret this. How much for the pussy?" "Come to the window." He follows her to the window, ready for anything. "Do you see all of Las Vegas?" She asks. "No way! You own all of Las Vegas?!" He exclaims, astounded. "No.." she looks down. " But I would if I had a pussy…"
Remains to be seen.
Their front page is made of 100% recycled material.
I was in complete Shock.
A pigment of your imagination
When they're going "CHEEP!"
Texas Instruments of Torture.
The *For Biden* files.
It’s like shooting fish in apparel.
I know, it's gross, but we can only cum on prosthetic legs. Anyway, our last three-way with an amputee, we both prematurely came on her real toes! I had to politely ask the girl, "Can we start over? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot."