He kneads the dough.
I said: “What, like bacon and burgers?” He said, “No. fatty don’t eat anything.”
*break bread* This is my body *pours wine* This is my blood *open jar of mayo* Judas: I'm gonna stop you right there
A small medium at large
… I now call him Dav.
then it is on the right foot
…it smells like burnt nose hair?
too bad it was a waist of time.
Deep beneath the ocean there is an exclusive club known for only having the coolest of clams in their midst. This was called the Cool Clam Club. Now, the Cool Clam Club was known across the seven seas as one of the most prestigious clubs known to seakind due to the fact that their initiation was quite possibly the most dangerous stunt you could pull; however, if you passed, you got a really sharp looking leather jacket with a clam patch on the back. Everyone wanted to be in the Cool Clam Club. Three clams decided they would try their shell at joining the Cool Clam Club. Their names were Justin, Travis, and Griffin. They all knew the initiation was difficult, but they've been watching from the sidelines for far too long. What is this tough initiation you may ask? Every day at around sunfall the tide would rise. The rising tide would cause the old wooden dock to rise up for a few moments, then come crashing down back into the shore. To join the Cool Clam Club, a clam must take a running start, slide under one of the large wooden legs of the dock, and come out the other side unscathed. "Simple," thought all three clams. They had seen this initiation many times before, they knew the techniques and the wet and wild stunts. The Justin clam went first. He observed the rising and falling of the post. He took a deep swig of water. He towards his destiny. WOOSH! The Cool Clam Club received the Justin clam with open arms. He passed initiation and the leather jacket was his! Surely, he must be the coolest clam in town! Travis clam, upon seeing his fellow clam claim the jacket, was happy. But he knew that he was next. The dock rose, it fell, it rose… WOOSH! The Travis clam had made it! He hugged the Justin clam, cheers erupted around him, and the jacket was his. Griffin looked at the two other clams on the other side of that large wooden post. He was getting nervous. His tiny stomach began to hurt out of nervousness. Alas! If Justin and Travis had made it through, surely he could make it as well! The Griffin clam backed up to get a head start. He looked at the dock, nervous still. The Cool Clam Club looked on with interest at this. They all clenched the lapels of their cool leather jackets, for they all wanted the littlest clam to join their ranks. The Griffin clam looked at the dock. The large wooden pillar rose. It fell. It rose… SPLAT! The post fell upon the Griffin clam and the littlest clam was no more. Now, my friends, you may be wondering what killed the Griffin clam. The other two clams had made it through without a scratch, so then, why did the Griffin clam fail? Pier pressure. Edit: formatting
To get its pedigree.
Finally my high school karate lessons came of some use.
You’ve seen the mall.
If you don't have one, you'll have to unload by hand.
Ask your mother
While taking a left turn the boyfriend asks " Babe , can you check if the indicator is working. " The blonde look around and says " Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes…"
Then they hung her.
He was consumed by pride.
Today was just the tip of the iceberg. Tomorrow romaines to be seen.
Patient: Good news please. Doctor: we're naming a disease after you.
Me: Dad, could you call my phone? I can’t find it. My dad: OH PHONE, WHERE ARE YOU?
Man wakes up in a slum with no memory of how he got there. He wanders around aimlessly before he finds even one person who will talk to him. Some ratty beggar on the street turns out to be nice enough to explain where he is. "You're in the afterlife!" he tells the man, "But you must have been a real shithead when you were alive, because this is the fourth ring, and only the worst people come here." All of a sudden, a siren goes off, one of those air-raid things. The man is terrified but the beggar gets up calmly and leads him to a big, dilapidated warehouse where thousands of other similarly unkempt souls are gathering. When the man asks why they're all here, the beggar points to a line of folding tables against the wall. Each table has some moldy bread, cups of dingy water, and some bowls of broth so thin they could have just run out of cups. Only then does the man realize how hungry he is. A guard in heavy body armor blows a whistle and all the people arrange themselves into three lines. The beggar is helpful enough to explain them for the man. "That one's the bread line, that's the broth line, and that's the water line. All the food here is free, but if you want to get out of this maggot hole, you've got to work, because the gate guards into the third ring ask five hundred dollars to get through. I've heard the food is better there." So the man gets his food. It's abominable, and right then and there, he vows to make five hundred dollars and get into the third ring. Unfortunately for him, very few people need work in the afterlife, especially when all of them are saving up to emigrate. Even still, after ten years of hard work, eating the moldy bread and indistinguishable soup and water, he finally saves up enough money. The guards let him through and he finds himself in the third ring. It's nothing too fancy, if anything, it's a bit below average for a real city, but to his eyes it is paradise. All the guards look much friendlier, and the houses and buildings, while not spacious or lavish, are at least up to code. And to his surprise, he runs right into a familiar former beggar as he crosses the street. "What are the odds?" they both ask and they get to conversing. The beggar, it turns out, only managed to make it in himself a few months back. Their conversation is interrupted, however, by what sounds like a school bell. When the man seems confused, the beggar leads him to what looks like a giant gymnasium. Here, people are gathering once again, and the man begins to understand. On a line of folding tables against one wall are stacks of hot dogs, big bowls of salad, and solo cups full of fresh lemonade. A cop shouts for everyone's attention and directs them all to stand in three lines. The beggar smiles at the man's wonder and points to each line in turn. "That's the hot dog line, that's the salad line, and that's the lemonade line." The man gets in each line in turn and gets himself his lunch. While he's eating, basking in joy at not being stuck with old bread and water, the beggar encourages him, "The best part is, halfway through the year, they switch from hot dogs, salad, and lemonade to chicken, chili, and hot chocolate. You can never get tired of it!" Sadly, this proved not to be true. After only a few days, the man did again get tired of the same meal every day. But he knew firsthand that he could change his lot, so one day he went up to the wall of the second circle. This time the guards were asking for ten thousand dollars. Well, the man didn't like it, but he figured he had his whole afterlife ahead of him now that he was out of the fourth circle, and he could certainly take some time to save up. After ten years of hard work, it wasn't too difficult for him to keep up the work ethic, and only twenty years later, he went back to the guards of the second ring with the money in hand. He went through the gate and found himself in a glittering, clean city full of glass and steel. And wouldn't you know it, but there, standing across the street was the same beggar, only now he was wearing a well-fitted suit. The man greeted the beggar as an old friend and they started talking again. Once again, their conversation was interrupted, only this time it was by beautiful church bells. "Come," the beggar told him, "I'll take you to the evening meal." So the man followed and they entered a glamorous ballroom filled with beautiful attendees. Even the cops here looked good, dressed in suits and sunglasses like bodyguards. And sure enough, piled onto platters on huge mahogany tables against the far wall were plates of steak, bowls of the most delicious seafood soups, and glasses of champagne. One of the bodyguards cleared his throat loudly and politely requested that the attendees line up. Three lines were formed and the beggar pointed each line out in turn. "That's the steak line, that's the soup line, and that's the champagne line," and then he added, "and apparently here, they change the meals FOUR times a year!" The man rejoiced, ate, and was happy, and for once felt that nothing was lacking. Four changes a year was enough for him. But one day, out of curiosity, he went up to the bodyguards that guarded the gate into the first and final ring of the afterlife and found they were asking for a million dollars to pass. Well the man was a bit disturbed by this, after all, the second ring seemed perfect to him. "What is it," he thought, "that could possibly be more wonderful than what I have here?" That question haunted him for weeks until he came to a conclusion. He was used to working hard and he had all of eternity to save up, so he wanted, just once to see what he could possibly be missing in the first ring. Fifty years later, he returned to the guards with a million dollars. When he stepped into the first ring he fell to his knees. The architecture was glorious and inhuman, and the bodyguard had turned into shining angels. To his surprise, someone helped him up off the street and when he looked, he realized he recognized who it was–it was the beggar he met in the fourth ring, adorned in a golden robe and glowing, and when he looked down at himself he realized he looked much the same. The beggar laughed jovially. "I got here only three years ago myself, but somehow I knew you would be right here behind me. I've come back to this gate every day waiting for you to make it in!" Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of angelic choirs and the beggar led the man off to a gigantic palace made of crystal and cloud. The room was filled with radiant citizens of the first circle and angels prepared everything. Sure enough, there was a line of massive altars against one wall, spilling over with glistening golden dragon meat, a pudding refined from clouds and dew and silk, and an ice cold tub of ambrosia and nectar ladled out individually into blindingly beautiful crystalline chalices. An angel fluttered from the ceiling and bowed silently to the assembled mass, who bowed respectfully back and then broke themselves into their lines on their own. Smiling at the tradition, the beggar pointed to the first line. "That's the line for the dragon meat," he said before turning to the next line, "and that's the line for angeldust stew," then he paused, confused. "What is it?" the man asked his old friend. The beggar replied, "There appears to be no punchline."
Be tall, it's much better.
The second hand store.
Only one, but you really have to squeeze them in…
In his will, he entrusted $50,000 in cash to each of his closest advisers: his accountant, his doctor, and his lawyer. In his will, he instructed that each of them was to put all of the money into an envelope and place it into his coffin at his funeral, so he could have his money even after death. On the day of the funeral, each of his advisers came with a large envelope and each, in turn, placed it in the wealthy man's open casket. At the end of the funeral, when the man was buried, each of the advisers walked away from the cemetary together. The accountant said to the other two "I must confess, I didn't put all of the money in. I kept $10,000 for myself and only put in $40,000." The doctor responded "I should be honest too. I kept $20,000 for myself and only put in $30,000." The lawyer looked at the other two with disdain and said "I'm ashamed of both of you. Our client instructed us to put in $50,000 each into his casket, and I'll have you know I put in a check for the full amount!"
Him: Close the door on your way back in.
They just don't work