I went for a swim in the river that crosses Mexico, and I saw a Mexican, aka a wetback, swimming across. I asked, and he said, "I'm a wetback."
In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat.
With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.
Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see.
Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.
Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires.
They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.
Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air.
Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.
Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas.
In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.
And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star.
Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.
A Chinese man moves to the USA after 50 years of living in Shanghai.
He bought a home on a small piece of land.
The friendly American neighbor decides to go across and welcome the new guy.
He goes next door, but on his way up the driveway he sees the Chinese man running around his front yard, chasing about 10 hens.
Not wanting to interrupt these "Chinese customs", he decides to put the welcome on hold for the day.
Next day he decides to try again, but just as he is about to knock on the front door, he looks through the window and sees him urinate into a glass and then drink it.
Not wanting to interrupt another "Chinese custom", he decides to put the welcome on hold for yet another day.
A day later he decides to give it one last go, but on his way next door, he sees the neighbor leading a bull down the driveway and then put his left ear next to the bull's butt.
The American dude can't handle this, so he goes up to the Chinese man and says, "Jeez man, what the hell is it with your Chinese customs? I come over to welcome you to the neighborhood and see you running around the yard after hens. The next day you are pissing in a glass and drinking it, and then today you have your head so close to that bull's butt, it could just about shit on you."
The Chinese man is very taken back and says, "Sorry sir, you no understand, these no Chinese customs I am doing, these are American Customs."
"What do you mean," says the neighbor, "Those aren't American customs."
"Yes they are, man at travel agent tell me," replied the Chinese man. "He say to become true American, I must learn to chase chicks, get piss drunk, and listen to bull-shit!"
After a long labor, a doctor approaches the new mother and says, “Ma’am, I’ve got some good news, and some bad news. What would you like?” After quickly thinking it over, she responds, “I’ll have the bad news first, doctor.”
The doctor replies, “Well, I’m not sure how to put this, and I’m sorry to have to tell you, your child has red hair.”
Relieved, a smile spreads across the mother’s face. “Doctor, if that’s the bad news, what’s the good news?” The doctor replies, “He’s dead.”
Cheese, a beloved food item across the globe, has a rich history, diverse varieties, and significant nutritional value. Originating over 7,000 years ago, cheese has evolved from a method of preserving milk to a culinary staple enjoyed in countless dishes and cuisines.
The diversity of cheese is truly astounding. From the creamy Brie of France to the sharp Cheddar of England, the smoky Gouda of the Netherlands to the tangy Feta of Greece, each variety of cheese reflects the culture and geography of its origin. The process of cheese-making, while sharing a common foundation, varies greatly, resulting in differences in texture, flavor, and appearance. This diversity is a testament to human ingenuity and the rich tapestry of global food culture.
In terms of nutrition, cheese is a valuable source of protein, calcium, and vitamins such as B12. However, it's also high in fat and sodium, which means it should be consumed in moderation as part of a balanced diet. Despite this, the unique flavors and textures of cheese make it a cherished part of many people's diets.
There are three men walking down the road, and they come across a farm that is for sale. The three men look at each other and put all their money together to buy the farm. On that farm, there is a cow, a monkey, and a bunch of cow food. The men are out of money, and the farm is going out of business.
One of the men sees that there is a contest for the biggest cow in the county. They entered the contest, but the cow is so thin. Every time they tried to feed the cattle, it would poop and lose weight again, so one of them suggested that they put a cork up the cow's behind. The first guy says, "Okay, then go put a cork there."
"I don't want to do it. You do it."
"No, you do it."
The third guy says, "Let's just get the monkey to do it." And the monkey puts the cork in the cow's behind. They win the biggest cow contest and get the money they need to save the farm.
The second guy realizes that they need to take the cork out of the cow. "Guys, we need to take the cork out of the cow," he says.
"Well, I'm not going to do it. You do it."
"No, you do it."
The third guy says, "Let's just get the monkey to do it again." So the monkey uncorks the cow, and there was a huge explosion. A few days later, the three men wake up in the hospital.
The doctor walks up to the first man and asks, "What happened?"
The first man replies, "All I remember is that horrible sound."
The doctor walks up to the second man and asks, "What happened?"
"All I remember is that horrible smell..."
The doctor walks up to the third man and again asks the same question. The third man looks at him and says, "All I remember is that poor poor monkey trying to put the cork back in."
There was a kid at school. He was reading a book and he came across a phrase. It was "purple pation." He went to his teacher and asked what it meant. His teacher said, "What the actual hell? Get the hell out of my class and go to the principal's office!" The principal said, "It's okay, it was probably a mistake. I will clean this all up. In the meantime, what's the phrase?" He says, "Purple pation." His principal stares at him for about 3 seconds, then says, "Get the hell out of my school. You are expelled!" He ran 7 miles to his dad's office crying all the way. He went to his dad and explained how his teacher kicked him out of the class and the principal expelled him. His dad said, "Calm down, I will clean this all up," and he said, "That's what the principal said. He said, 'I will clean it up'." He said, "OK, the phrase is 'purple pation'." His dad said, "I hate you, get out of my office. I don't want to see you again." He ran down crying to his house. He explained what happened. His mom said the same thing as everyone else, so he explains the phrase. His mom kicks him out of the house, and he ran down to the park crying. An old lady said, "What's wrong?" He explained what's happening. Then she says, "Well, what's the phrase?" He says, "Purple pation." The old lady said, "See that house across the street? That's my house. Come over in about 30 min and I will explain." He says, "Thank you." It was the longest 30 min of his life. He sprints across the street and gets hit by a bus.
Sorry guys ;)
Any body have nothing to do? Well here is a prank that you'll never forget!
(Btw I never actually did this irl yet)
So tell your parents at night to come in in about 30 minutes cuz your legs hurt and you need them rubbed. So when they come in, pretend like your sleeping and right before they go out shout: NO! Then they will look at you but you'll be sleeping. (The idea is that you'll be sleep talking.) Then you start to cuss and say the most random things like: Hey you can't chew my cud it's mine, plus, you even went swimming today at that damm lake! Also say something like: YOU SON OF A BITCH! *swat in the air once* Then say: Why I made your f*ckin' bed today you stupid parents! *swat three times* And btw try and not smile as hard as it may be cuz they will be looking at you weird. And try to open your eyes just enough so you can see them. And depending on the tipe of parent you have they may wake you up by then or they will get interested and start laughing! Any way, then say: That mother f*cker that lives across the street just said I was ugly, you should do something about it(sibling name) ______. And also say: And if you happen to know where the nearest store is then that would be helpful. Then say: No Hulk! Leave me alone I love you! *swat twice*. Then say: Uncle Timmy Tom you are such a nude nick.(my dad made up the word nude nick, it just means crazy and annoying) Then settle down and lay on your stomach in your "sleep" and make it look like you putting the blanket on you more, but irl it would probably be to hide a smile! I think I will stop there cuz I don't think any one could hold in there laughter that long and if you feel like you can hold out longer then just make something up.
I hope you guys can do this and it goes well for you! Please comment! Byeee!
A man needs to leave for a lengthy business trip, but his wife is saddened by this. She explains to him that if he isn’t home every night, there will be no way to satisfy herself if she feels horny. The man claims that she doesn’t need sex, because a dildo should work just fine.
He quickly runs to the local gift shop and asks the cashier if the store carries anything really special. The cashier quietly pulls out an old box and removes a wooden penis from inside. The cashier states that the dildo has been passed down in his family for generations and was crafted by a witch deep within the Amazon jungle. The cashier sits up in his chair and shouts, “Voodoo Dick, the door!”
The wooden penis flies across the room and begins to rapidly thrust itself in and out of the front door keyhole. “Voodoo Dick, the lamp!” The wooden penis flies up inside of the lamp on the cashier’s desk and, once again, begins to thrust in and out. “Voodoo Dick, return to your box!” The wooden penis flies back into the box, and the cashier closes the lid.
The man chooses to buy the wooden penis, and just as he is about to leave, the cashier tells him a very important bit of information regarding the Voodoo Dick: “The cursed dildo can only be controlled through verbal commands, it is far too powerful to be moved by hand,” says the cashier. “You must never forget that!”
The man nods and heads home.
Later that day, the man explains to his wife how the sex toy works, and then leaves for his trip.
A few days later, the wife becomes very horny and opens up the box. She proceeds to shout, “Voodoo Dick, my pussy!” The dildo zooms into her vagina and pleasures her for roughly 6-8 hours. She soon begins to grow tired and attempts to pull the dildo out of her. She pulls as hard as she can but just can’t get it out. The wife panics and begins driving to the hospital with the wooden penis still inside of her vagina. A police officer pulls her over for speeding and asks to see some identification. The wife exclaims, “Help, help, there is a Voodoo Dick inside of my vagina and it won’t come out!”
The officer raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Voodoo Dick my ass, bitch.”
Three unlucky jungle explorers were captured by a band of cannibals. Whilst being tied to three respective stakes, the chieftain announces that the hapless adventurers were about to die.
"After you're dead, you'll be skinned. The skin will be used to increase our canoe armada, and the rest of you will be food for us and our families."
This announcement was met with gasps of despair from the bound trio.
"There is one small favor I can offer you," the chief went on. "We'll let you choose your own method of death from what we have captured from other explorers."
Some of the tribal members begin walking by, displaying various implements of war and death.
The first explorer chose a crusty-looking musket. Thankfully, the powder load still fired, and he was dispatched without much fuss.
The second chose a knife and quickly drew it across his throat.
Both carcasses were hauled off by various tribesmen.
The third explorer stood there resolute and deep in thought.
After a few moments, the chieftain said, "There is no escape, you need to decide now, or I'll decide for yo..."
"Do you have a fountain pen in any of that junk?" the explorer interrupted?
Baffled, the chieftain sent two of his men to rummage. They came back bearing the pen and a bottle of ink.
When the explorer noticed the ink was Noodler's Baystate Blue, his grin spread from ear to ear.
Gathered round the explorer, spears in hand, the cannibals looked on as he was released and set to work filling the pen with ink.
Confused, the chief began to speak, "I'm afraid we have no paper, and even if you wrote a final letter, we'd have no way of sending it anywh..."
Cackling with triumphant glee, the explorer raised the pen into the air and began ramming it into his torso, nib first, again and again. He then fell upon the ground gasping a death rattle.
Horrified, the chief drew close as the man beckoned him for one final word.
"But why this painful death? When you had so many other more merciful options?" the chief asked.
Laughing, the man gasped his last statement into the chief's ear, "You'll make no boats from me now, and your mouths will be blue for months!"
The pastor of the local church calls on the congregation for volunteers for Bible sales.
A gentleman with a severe stutter approaches the pastor after Sunday service.
"I-i-i... I-i-id like to v-v-v-v-vol-vol-vo-volunteer to s-s-s-se-sell b-b-b-bi-b-bibles, f-fff-f-f-fa-fa-father..."
"That would be wonderful, my son. We'll start you with one box. Please go door to door throughout the community and sell what you can. You can give these away, but donations are always accepted since the word of God is the most important message."
"T-t-t-t-th-th-th-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father... i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll s-s-s-s-se-se-sell what I c-c-c-cc-can..."
The pastor sends the man on his way.
About an hour later to the pastor's surprise, the stuttering man returns with an empty box and $200 cash.
The pastor is completely shocked, but is ultimately filled with joy as the church could use the funds more than ever, not to mention the community is that much closer to God's message.
So without asking questions, he happily sends the stuttering man on his way with 2 more boxes of Bibles.
"T-t-t-t-t-t-th-th-th-th-tha-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father, i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll be back s-s-s-s-s-soo-soo-soo-soon."
Exactly 2 hours later the stuttering man returns, only this time carrying 2 empty boxes and $500 cash.
The pastor is at a loss for words. So much so, that he's questioning whether the stuttering man is coming across these funds legitimately.
He pulls the man aside and asks, "Son, while myself and the church thank you for your efforts in selling these bibles, we want to make sure not to take advantage of common people. Most of my volunteers take upwards of a month to sell a single box of Bibles, and you've sold 3 boxes in a few hours. May I ask what you're telling these people when you approach their home?"
"W-w-w-w-we-we-well f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father it-it-it-it-its qui-q-q-q-qui-quite s-s-s-s-s-s-si-sim-simple."
"I ju-ju-ju-ju-just ask the-the-th-th-th-the-them if th-th-th-th-the-the-they'd l-l-l-l-li-li-li-li-lik-like to b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bu-bu-buy a b-b-b-bi-bi-bi-bible or if they w-w-w-w-w-wa-wa-wa-wan-want me to re-re-re-rea-read it to them."
I'm just gonna say it, and don't get offended, but I'm so sick of the media being on the female side. It never shows what life is like for a male.
Yes, women do have it hard in life because they have to give birth, etc.
But men have it pretty hard too, if not harder. Males are criticized for showing emotions.
Men have to go to war on the front lines.
Boys have less support from their friends because showing any emotion is a sign of weakness.
Boys have to wear trousers in schools where they practically burn to death in summer, meanwhile girls get to wear dresses and skirts. And now we hear girls complaining about them not being allowed to wear trousers. Yet we haven't ever heard anything about boys protesting about wearing shorts to school. It's because no one will take a man's protest seriously because the media is always against the men.
Man-rape is unheard of in the media, and I've never seen anything in any form of news accusing a woman as a rapist.
We are expected to gather up our guts [and] ask a girl to be their girlfriend. We have to take them on dates, pay the bill, [and] buy them gifts when the girls never do anything like that for us males. We have to get a job while they put on makeup and go out with their friends and spend 3 months' worth of the money the man has made.
And the women say we only rape women and that we restrict women from doing certain things like fighting in world wars.
It's because most males do not want females to get hurt, yet we are criticized for this.
I propose an idea that on the 19th of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work, etc.
Who's going to put out all the fires? The two "firewomen" at the local fire station? Who is going to work in the major corporations? The secretary's and the receptionist?
Women are always saying that the world will be a better place if they're are no men around. Let's show them how wrong they are.
(This event can be done worldwide.)
Share this with as many people who still believe in the rights of the males.
(I'm not against feminism; it's just that everything in the media is about some stupid problem women are complaining about + hatred for males everywhere.
But I think that nowadays women have more rights than men because they can wear what they want, do what they want, and never get criticized or face any consequences.)
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the chicken had 4 chicks and a cheating hen who all sucked out all his money he got from his extremely boring job, and he finally got some peace for himself and was going to the local bar, which was on the other side of the road.
He walked in the door, wings sagging, feathers catching on his claws. The bartender eyes him as he sits on a bar stool. "Chuck, how ya doin'? The missus doin' good?"
"Just give me the hardest stuff you got. I'm done."
This caught the bartender by surprise. "Chuck, come on, don't be sayin' that. Just look to the future and you'll be fine."
"What future?" Chuck replied in a huff. "My wife and chicks are so goddamn pestering sometimes, you know? But if I leave, they'll all suffer, and I don't want that either. Oh, God, Phil, I don't know what to do."
"You know, you've got a good heart for a rooster your age," Phil answered. "We need that in these parts. I'm tellin' ya, there will be more than what's happenin' right now, ya know, life's got all its gears turning for ya, and there's just a bit slow right now. The gears haven't been oiled in a while, but who's the only one who can fix that?"
Chuck knew the answer. "Me."
Phil returned with his drink. "McClucken's Whiskey, on the house."
Chuck glanced at his glass. He held it up to the light. His face reflected in an aura around it, neither looking forward to the light and not backward, either.
"No thanks, Phil," Chuck sighed, "But thanks anyways."
He went to get up out of his chair. Phil called as he walked out the door, "Just remember to oil the gears every now and then, eh?"
Chuck's comb flapped in a cool breeze brought in by the season. A bench was nearby, staring across to the other side. And he just sat there, sat there thinking. Cars blurred to a colorfully colorless nothingness as he thought in silence.
He could see an open window in his mind, full of chickens: a sassy hen, two identical sportish chick; another, older than the two, and body bristling with blue comb-dye and the latest thing he watched online fresh on his Chickstagram page; finally, the first of the bunch, shy, bookish, with a secretly courageous soul. They all looked... worried, worried for the rooster who guided them, helped them grow, supported them... and all looking out of the window back at him.
A single tear welled in Chuck's eye.
The chicken walked back across the road to his family, to his friends, and to the life he was content with.
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...
