The captions on instagram ads make no sense at all..
Remains to be seen
No son. I got shot in the leggy
No text found
It was a non-prophet organization!
even the cake was in tiers.
Because, it has two shifts.
It becomes theiranium
On my way to work I saw an advert in a shop window that said: “Television for sale, $1, volume stuck on full.” – I thought to myself, ‘I can’t turn that down.'
Can't wait for the SQL.
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…"
Because it has 2 shifts.
I told my contractor I didn't want carpet on the steps. He gave me a blank stair.
I got bored one day (horny kind of bored) and thought about reading an erotica. Not really what I'm used to, but I decided to give it a try. I came across a fan-fiction based on the Harry Potter series and started there. I couldn't believe it. It turned out to be really arousing, and actually quite entertaining. Page after page I was getting closer and closer to my climax, yet I couldn't stop reading and found myself getting really tied into the story. Every sentence and every paragraph in every chapter had me so turned on. Until a chapter that took place in a cell in Azkaban, where Harry started passionately kissing his godfather. My libido extinguished immediately, and all sexual desire gone. I just couldn't continue. It was too absurd. I mean come on Harry. You can't be fucking Sirius!
He had locomotives
So a guy walks into a brothel. He only has $10 in his wallet, but he's truly desperate, so he asks the madam what he can get for it. She says "nothing. Try your luck in the streets or come back with some money." He says "please, I'm so desperate. Isn't there anything you can do for me?" Reluctantly, she says "well, we have a chicken. I suppose for $10 you can do what you can with that." The guy's unsure, but he hands it over and goes for it. Surprisingly, the chicken feels pretty good. He gets off and goes home. Next week, he goes back to the brothel with $10 and says "hey, can I see that chicken again?" The madam says, "I'm sorry, sir, the chicken passed away. But we do have a show tonight. Admission is just ten dollars." He agrees and squeezes into the auditorium. Two beautiful women are licking each other all over. He nudges the guy next to him and says "hey, this is pretty good!" The other guy says "you should have been here last week. They had a guy fucking a chicken!"
To cover its butt quack.
They'll come through for you in a pinch
I told her this isn’t working out
Guess it was always my way or the huawei i'm so sorry, I tried
Policeman: Whose car is this, where are you going and what do you do. Miner: mine
Under the g(o)rill(a).
In the first lesson I taught my first student the first 5 notes on the lowest string, and then the next week I taught him the first 5 notes on the next string. But the next week he didn't turn up. The week after that, he showed up and I said to him, "dude where were you last week?" to which he replied "I had a gig"
It’s pretty nuts.
Now he makes deadjokes.
A chicken pie in Jamaica costs $2.00. A chicken pie in Trinidad costs $2.40. A chicken pie in St. Kitts costs $2.15.
These are the pie rates of the Caribbean.
The German replies "Nein, just one."
Go Team Telescope!
They never get them.