Worst Jokes Ever
What is italian sausage?
The dick of a gay italian.
Roses are red, Violets are red, Sunflowers are red,
HOLY SHIT, MY GARDEN'S ON FIRE!
My and my penis never truly understood the words "Booby traps" until we met the ex-wife. God's gift of self-will was working fine until my penis went hard and my mind went blank, and God started laughing, and I swear I heard him say, "Booby trap" as he walked away! True story.
What do you call a group of white people running down a hill?
An avalanche.
How does a gay man trick a heterosexual man that is homophobic into giving him a brojob?
The gay man puts mustard on his dick and then puts his dick inside a glory hole.
What did the lesbian vampire say to the heterosexual woman after the lesbian vampire was done licking the pussy of the heterosexual woman?
"When is your next blood period?"
Hey, you have something on your chin, no the 3rd one down.
Ha, Uranus face!
Not in a racist way tho.
Q: What does Abraham Lincoln have in common with a poor quality pirated movie?
A: They were both shot in a theater.
Why do heterosexual men and women that are married in France only perform anilingus on each other in their bedrooms?
Anal sex and oral sex is against the law in France.
Why can a gay man give a better brojob to a heterosexual man than another heterosexual man?
Experience.
Get a fucking life, you horny bastards!
If I had a face like yours, I would sue my parents.
Don't say your life is a joke because jokes have meaning.
If being ugly was a crime, you would get a life sentence.
What do pedophiles do when they wake up?
Turn on the child safety lock on the car.
Eric's mom asked her son why his bag was heavy and if it was because of books. Eric replied, "No, magazines."
What do cutting boards and a suicidal teen's wrist have in common?
They both have cutting marks.
Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch, “Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?” The birch says he cannot tell, but just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling. The birch says, “Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?”
The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree and replies, “It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch, it is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever poked my pecker into.”
I wish my hair was depressed.
Cause then it would cut itself.