What kind of music do balloons hate the most?
A guy walks into a bar in one morning, and goes up to the bar tender. “Do you guys have golden toilets?” he asks.
"What? Golden toilets? What are you talking about?" "Look, last night I got pretty wasted but the one thing I can remember is peeing in a golden toilet." Bartender says "OK, first, no we don't have golden toilets. Secondly, HEY MORTY, I FOUND THE GUY THAT PISSED IN YOUR TUBA!"
I said, "Don't do it!" He said, "Nobody loves me." I said, "God loves you. Do you believe in God?" He said, "Yes." I said, "Are you a Christian or a Jew?" He said, "A Christian." I said, "Me, too! Protestant or Catholic?" He said, "Protestant." I said, "Me, too! What franchise?" He said, "Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?" He said, "Northern Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist or Northern Liberal Baptist?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region, or Northern Conservative Baptist Eastern Region?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region." I said, "Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?" He said, "Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912." I said, "Die, heretic!" And I pushed him over.
People in Dubai don’t like the Flintstones, but people in Abu Dhabi do.
Because all the fans left.
Unfortunatley, I didn't impress anyone at the cremation…
On the bus today, I tapped the woman in front of me on the shoulder, and said, "Excuse me, but there's some semen on your sweater." She said, "Oh, it's probably just yogurt…" I replied, "Maybe, but I'm pretty sure I don't ejaculate yogurt."
This farmer has about 500 hens, but no rooster, and he wants chicks. So, he goes down the road to the next farmer and asks if he has a rooster that he would sell.
The other farmer says, "Yep, I've got this great rooster, named Kenny. He'll service every chicken you got, no problem." Well, Kenny the rooster costs $3,000, a lot of money, but the farmer decides he'd be worth it. So, he buys Kenny. The farmer takes Kenny home and sets him down in the barnyard, but first he gave the rooster a pep talk "I want you to pace yourself. You've got a lot of chickens to service here, and you cost me, a lot of money; consequently, I'll need you to do a good job. So, take your time and have some fun, "the farmer said, with a chuckle. Kenny seems to understand, so the farmer points toward the hen house and Kenny takes off like a shot. WHAM! Kenny nails every hen in the hen house – three or four times, and the farmer is really shocked. After that, the farmer hears a commotion in the duck pen and, sure enough, Kenny is in there. Later, the farmer sees Kenny after a flock of geese down by the lake. Once again – WHAM! He gets all the geese. By sunset he sees Kenny out in the fields chasing quail and pheasants. The farmer is distraught and worried that his expensive rooster won't even last 24 hours. Sure enough, the farmer goes to bed and wakes up the next morning to find Kenny on his back out in the middle of the yard, mouth open, tongue hanging out and both feet sticking straight up in the air. Buzzards are circling overhead. The farmer, saddened by the loss of such a colourful and expensive animal, shakes his head and says, "Oh, Kenny, I told you to pace yourself. I tried to get you to slow down, now look what you've done to yourself." Kenny opens one eye, nods toward the buzzards circling in the sky and says "Shhhh, they're getting closer!"
If you don't get it, it's because it's an inside joke.
Give a man a bank and he'll rob the world.
The teacher isn't there on time. A few minutes passed, and she still hasn't arrived yet. James kinda figured, while the teacher was away, he ought to keep writing his novel he's been working on, about cats. James' dream is to become a big shot writer with the desire to have a best-seller. He's written and sent in books before, but no luck. He's tried written short stories, children's stories, poems, and even a few attempted novels. However, none of those were considered good enough to publish. However, this next story that he has planned, he figures it's gonna be HUGE. It's the story about a runaway cat, told from a first-person view of the cat himself. The cat is supposedly trying to figure out how to return home, and how to survive. After giving it much thought, and after receiving the feedback from the other failed attempts, he decided to put his all into his book. It'll be a smash hit. After about fifteen minutes, the teacher finally shows up to first period. The teacher apologizes, "Sorry, I'm late. My dumbass boyfriend doesn't know how to properly set an alarm clock." Upon hearing those words, a light bulb suddenly went off in James' head. Boyfriend… clock… that's it! That's the perfect story! During class, he decided to try and take notes as to the concept of the book in itself. So far, he has the idea of a guy falling in love with an analog clock, something about how digital clocks are about to go outdated, and that he feels nostalgic by them and doesn't want them to fade away… that's what he's come up with so far. Yeah. A story about a guy that has a sexual relationship with an analog clock. It's a strange story, he knows, but he feels it's quite an original story, to the point where it will definitely put him over the top, WAY more than his cat story he's been working on. Once he gets home, he puts way more time and effort coming up with the characters, the plot details, and so on and so forth. Finally, by the time he has to go to sleep, he's already completed two chapters. A few weeks later, he's already completed the book. He's so excited about what he's written, where he feels like a big shot. He feels this will definitely be the book that brings him to success. It's well-written, has great structure, and he feels that he wrote the main character enough to where you'd actually empathize with his romantic relationship about the clock, and why exactly he wanted to marry the clock in the first place. He titles the book "Holding Hands". He sends it in to the first publishing company. A few days later, he gets a call, saying that it was one of the worst things they've ever read. Feeling distraught by this, he decides to try again with a different publishing company. However, a few weeks later, he's given the exact same statement, that it was terrible. He tries over and over again, but nothing really seems to happen. Finally, he decides to give it one last shot. One more publishing company, and if they reject it, he'll scrap the book entirely and possibly resume the cat story that he originally had his eyes on. He sends it in, and… no one contacts him. Days later, not a word. Weeks pass, months. A few years, even. By this point, James has already graduated high school and went to college for writing. His cat story was also rejected, but hopefully he'll be able to write a masterpiece once he graduates and gets his degree. By now, he's also married and has a child on the way. Suddenly, out of the blue, his phone rings. He couldn't believe it. It was the publishing company from a few years back! He answers the phone. "Hello?" A woman answers, "Hello, is this James?" He affirms. She says to him, "I'm just calling to let you know that we've recently read your book you sent us, "Holding Hands"." He says, "Yeah. It's about fucking time."
They’re all backstabbers
Yesterday, he brought his dog along.
He decides to test it out at dinner one night. The father asks his son what he did that afternoon. The son says, "I did some schoolwork." The robot slaps the son. The son says, "OK, Ok. I was at a friend's house watching movies." Dad asks, "What movie did you watch?" Son says, "Toy Story." The robot slaps the son. Son says, "Ok, Ok, we were watching porn." Dad says, "What? At your age I didn't even know what porn was." The robot slaps the father. Mom laughs and says, "Well. He certainly is your son!" The robot slaps the mother.
Fine. Suture self.
In Pharmacology, all drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name. For example, the trade name of Tylenol also has a generic name of Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen. Amoxil is also call Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen. The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra. After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin. Also considered were Mycoxafailin, Mydixadrupin, Mydixarizin, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.
"Nice bewbs! Now where do you want me to hang the blind?"
The maitre d seats him at a table next to a table of four women, one particularly attractive. The waiter comes to his table and says “Welcome sir would you like to hear our specials?” “Uh, yes,” says the voyeur. “Today we our soup du jour is a white gazpacho with avacodo, chilled almonds, and olive oil. We have an appetizer special of artichokes casino tender artichoke hearts baked with jumbo lump crab meat. Lastly our entree specials are pan roasted moscovy duck breast with a rhubarb relish, vanilla balsamic vinegar reduction and roasted potatoes, and filet mignon au poivre, which pan seared with cracked peppercorns in a cognac cream served with roasted potatoes.” Distracted by the table next to him the voyeur responds “Yeah, I’ll have that.” “Which entree sir?” asks the nonplussed waiter The voyeur replies, “Umm…, the steak.” “How would you like your steak?” The voyeur is staring at the other table. The waiter gruffed “Sir?!” “Oh, uh, rare.” Waiter replies “It comes with salad, what dressing would you like?” spoken in a sort of stern tone.” Voyeur is staring at the other table again, startled by the waiter drops his silverware. Waiter: “Would you like Caesar dressing?” Voyeur awkwardly picking up his fork says and looks at the waiter confused. “See her dressing? Why yes that sounds lovely.”
you're built upside down.
…so when someone asks what your password is, just tell them it’s: 12345678.
because y'all keep ignoring me
I am getting ready to open an Asian/Mexican fusion resturant…I am calling it Juan-Ton
The former is a ladder, while the latter is a former.
The virus is literally making us go fuck ourselves.
A man had a bad case of stuttering. He went to many doctors over the years, but none of them could help him. Finally one doctor said to him “I believe I found the reason for your stuttering”.
The man asked, "Waah.. waaah.. waah.. what is my pro… proo… problem?" The doctor replied, "Your penis is very, very large. The weight of your penis is causing a strain on your larynx, and this results in your stuttering. The only solution to this is to perform a penis transplant." The man was really tired of his stuttering, so he agreed to a transplant. Several days later the doctor called the man up and informed him that they have found a suitable donor. The transplant operation was successfully performed and the man could speak without any stutter. At first he was happy, but after a while he began to miss his large penis, and how the girls used to love it. He finally went back to his doctor and said, "Doctor, I am grateful for the opportunity you have given me to speak without a stutter, but I miss my old penis. Please find the transplant donor and tell him that we have to exchange penises back." The doctor shook his head and replied, "Tha…thaaa…that's im… immm… imm… po.. po.. pooo.. impossible!"
Then you’ll get a, “Super Cali-Flagger Dipstick Expert Diagnosis!"
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!