Why was Abraham Lincoln never put in jail?

…are debating philosophy. The question arises over the course of their debates: what separates man from the animals? "Technology," says the German. "Other creatures have tools, yet none can match the heights of engineering we have accomplished. It is our industry that separates us from the beasts." "I disagree," announces the Italian. "It is our food. The creatures of the wild eat, but they do not cook. Humans on the other hand, create amazing dishes and new combination that make eating a most enjoyable experience." "I say it's art," decides the Frenchman. "No other being can create art. From our earliest days we have painted, and now we sculpt, write and compose as well. The wild animals cannot ever know what it is like to cry over a beautiful piece of art." All three now look towards the Englishman, expecting his answer. He takes a long sip of tea before answering, "The Channel".

I am now independent.

but I just couldn’t fit my head that far up my ass

We're losing $1 for every $.79 women are losing

St. Peter and the Devil were standing nearby. "Gentlemen," the Devil started, "Heaven is now overcrowded. St Peter has agreed to limit the number of people entering Heaven. If anyone of you can ask me a question which I cannot answer or don't know, then you're worthy enough to go to Heaven. If not, then you'll come with me to Hell." The philosopher stepped up, "OK, give me the most comprehensive report on Socrates' teachings," With a snap of his finger, a stack of paper appeared next to the Devil. The philosopher read it and concluded it was correct The philosopher disappeared and went to hell. The mathematician then asked, "Give me the most complicated formula you can ever think of!" With a snap of his finger, another stack of paper appeared. The mathematician read it and agreed it was correct. The mathematician also went to hell. The idiot stepped forward and said, "Bring me a chair!" The Devil brought forward a chair. "Drill 7 holes on the seat." The Devil did just that. The idiot then sat on the chair and let out a very loud fart. Standing up, he asked, "Which hole did my fart come out from ?" The Devil inspected the seat and said, "The third hole from the right." "Wrong," said the idiot, "it's from my asshole." The idiot went to Heaven.

Once.

unless you're at a funeral [Demetri martin]

all of whom could not figure out how to cure him. Finally, he was brought to an old physician. After about an hour’s examination he came out and told the cardinals that he had some good news and some bad news. The bad news was that the Pope had a rare disorder of the testicles. The good news was that all the Pope had to do to be cured was have sex. Well, this was not good news to the cardinals, who argued about it at length. Finally, they went to the Pope with the doctor and explained the situation. After some thought, the Pope stated, “I agree, but under four conditions.” The cardinals were amazed and there arose quite an uproar. Over the noise a single voice asked, “And what are the four conditions?” The room stilled. There was a long pause. The Pope replied, “First, the girl must be blind, so that she cannot see who she is having sex with. Second, she must be deaf, so that she cannot hear who she is having sex with. And third, she must be dumb so that if somehow she figures out who she is having sex with, she can tell no one.” After another long pause a voice arose and asked, “And the fourth condition?” The Pope replied, “Big tits.”

Malnourished.

Half an hour later, a door-to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell with the hopes of making a sale. "Good morning madam. You don't know me but I've come to….." "Oh, there's no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Jones cut in. "You have?" the photographer asked. "Well, good! I've made a specialty of babies." "That's exactly what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat. Just where do we start?" asked a blushing Mrs. Jones. "You just leave everything to me," he replied. "Usually, I try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out." "Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work for George and me," stated Mrs. Jones. "Well, madam, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. However, if we try several different positions, and I shoot from five or six angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results." "I certainly hope we can get this over with quickly," gasped Mrs. Jones. "Madam, in my line of work, a man must take his time. I would love to be in and out in five minutes, but you'd be disappointed with that, I'm sure." "Don't I know!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones. The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus in the downtown area," he proudly declared. "Oh my word!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed. "And these twins turned out exceptionally well, considering the fact that their mother was so difficult to work with," he said, handing Mrs. Jones the photograph. "She was difficult?" Mrs. Jones asked. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to Central Park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep, pushing and shoving to get a good look." "Four and five deep?" asked Mrs. Jones, her eyes the size of saucers. "Yes," said the photographer. "And for more than three hours too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling. It was very difficult for me to concentrate. Then darkness approached and I began to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just packed it all in." "You mean they actually chewed on your, umm, equipment?" Mrs. Jones asked. "That's right. Well madam, if you're ready, I'll set up my tripod so that we can get to work." "Tripod?" asked a very worried Mrs. Jones. "Oh yes, I have to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big for me to hold while I'm getting ready for action." "Madam, madam? Good Lord, she's fainted!"

Pete: "I want to be a pilot" Tommy: "I want to be a doctor" Margaret: "I want to be a good mother" Frank: "I want to help Margaret"

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I told her I was afraid that Mark Zuckerberg was listening! She laughed. I laughed. Alexa laughed. Siri laughed.

“Very well, my child,” says the priest, as he leads the man into the confession booth, “Tell me about your sins.” “Well, Father,” says the guy, “On Monday, I was at my girlfriend’s house, and, well… the two of us alone, the house empty… I sinned, Father.” “Don’t worry, child,” says the priest, “It’s perfectly normal to have such desires and share them with your partner. Nothing serious, just say two prayers and you will be cleansed of your sins.” “But Father,” continues the man, “It doesn’t end there. On Tuesday, I was at my girlfriend’s house again, but she had gone out with her mates, and the only one there was her sister, and, well… the two of us alone, the house empty… I sinned again, Father.” “Oh, child,” says the Father, “You must be strong and fight those urges! Eight prayers shall cleanse you of your sins.” “But Father,” says the bloke again, “On Wednesday, I was at my girlfriend’s house again, and she wasn’t there then either, and the only one at home was her mum, and, well… the two of us alone, the house empty… Again I sinned, Father.” “Good Lord,” says the priest, “Child, you must think about what you do, so pray-” “But Father,” says the bloke, “On Thursday, I was at my girlfriend’s house again, and the whole family had gone to the shop, and the only one there was her aunt, and, well… the two of us alone, the house empty… I sinned yet again, Father.” The priest falls silent. “And then,” continues the bloke, “On Friday, I was at her house again, and they had gone out for the weekend and the only one there was her granny, and , well… the two of us alone, the house empty…” The priest still did not answer. “And on Saturday,” said the bloke, “I went to her house again, and there was nobody there except for her father, and, well…” The man awaits a reply, but upon hearing none, he exits the booth – only to find the priest up on the belfry. “Father,” he calls, “What are you doing up there? I haven’t finished!” “Back off, I’m not coming down,” says the priest, “The two of us alone, the Church's fucking empty… and I don’t want you to sin anymore.”

I have selfish steam issues.