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's sees that there is a contest for the biggest cow in the county. They entered the contest but it's so thin. Every time they tried to feed the cattle it would poop and lose weight again, so one of them in suggested that they put a cork up the cows 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 couch 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 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 a 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 what happened he asks the first man replies all I remember is that a 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 ask 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 ment his teacher said hat the actual hell get the hell out of my class and go to the princible offic the princible said its ok iwas probably a mistake i will clean this all up in the mean time whats the phrase he says purple pation his prncible stares at him for about 3 seconds then says get the hell out of my school u r expelled he ran 7 miles to his dads offic crying all the way he went to his dad and explained how hs teacher kicked him out of the class and the princable expelled him his dad said calm down i will clean this all up and he said thats what the princable said he said i will clean it up he said ok the phrase is purple pation hisdad said i hate u getout of myoffice i dont want to see u again he ran down crying to his house he explained what happened his mom said the same thing as everyone else so he explaines the phrase his moms kickes him out of the house and he ran down to the park crying a old lady said whats wrong he explained whats happening then she says wellwhats the phrase he says purplepation the old lady said see that house across the street thats my house come over in about 30 min and i will explain he says thank u 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 a 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!
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, "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 pastors 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 bieng 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 criticised 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 ask a girl to be their girlfriend, we have to take them on dates, pay the bill, 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 criticised for this.
I propose a idea that on the 19 of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work. etc.
Whose going to put out all the fires? The two fire'women' 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 criticised 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
