Age jokes
Hi there! My name is Michael Grover, and I am an explorer. Ever since I’ve been little, I’ve loved searching for new things. As a baby, my parents kept finding me in nooks and crannies around the house. “On the search,” as they would say.
By the age of 5, I had been to every continent on the planet, barring Antarctica. For my 12th birthday, my parents got me diving lessons, and by the time I was 13, I could scuba dive to a depth of 40 meters, as well as go cave diving.
I got a pilot’s license by the age of 17, and I learned to sail just before my 18th birthday. Instead of going to university, I decided to travel around South America, exploring its rich jungles and beautiful landscapes.
During my trip, I met my now wife who was also an explorer. For our honeymoon, we sailed around the Caribbean, and we discovered 3 new islands which we named after the cats that I had growing up.
Over the course of my life, I have come across great treasures and wondrous experiences. But in all my life, and in all my travels, I’m afraid I have never come across a single person who cared about what you just said.
A young 38 year old happy Muslim migrant living in Sydney wants to wed a beautiful young bride. He asks the local Aussie the minimum age to wed his yet unchosen bride. "Eighteen," the Aussie says, sipping a beer. "She has to be Eighteen."
Okay, the Muslim man sighed, with disappointment and walks off. Next day he arrives with a 13 year old girl.
"Wtf are you doing?" Aussie says?
"You say this is okay," Muslim replied. "Fuck no, she must be at least Eighteen you sick bastard," says Aussie, flicking away his Winnie Blue cigarette. Muslim man leaves angrily.
Next day Happy Muslim settles on a 14 year old girl from Punchbowl to be his bride. Aussies jaw drops, "What is wrong with you mate?" asks Aussie.
Muslim man replies "You tell me to choose 'a teen', 'a teen', I chose a teen and now you come for my third and now fourth choice. Fuck you!"
Aussie: "Eighteen not 'a teen' you sick mongrel."
What do you call an orphan when there 18?
Homeless.
Why is the last part of orphanage "age?"
Because it doesn't matter your age.
I (DYM 61).
When I was 8, my sister was half my age. I am 60 now, how old is my sister?
Comments: 30! Give me an easier question next time!
Yo momma's so old that even scientists get baffled about where she lived before Earth was created.
Yo mama so old, on her birth certificate it said "expired."
Yo mama so fat, when she sat on a rainbow, Skittles popped out.
Yo mama so fat, when she sat on Walmart, the prices went down.
Yo mama so poor, she chases a garbage truck with a shopping list.
Yo mama so ugly, she made the devil go to church.
Grandma: Young people your age are married by now, why aren’t you?
Me: Old people your age are dead right now, why aren’t you?
Me: I have the body of a 28 year old.
Her: Prove it.
Me: (opens freezer)
Kid with Cancer: "When I get older, I want to be a movie star or a singer."
Nurse: *Laughs*
Kid: "Why are you laughing?"
Nurse: "When I get OLDER."
Proceeds to laugh.
To all the children on this website, hello!!!!! Hey!!!! How is life treating you?
(BTW I'm a kid, too. I'm Hayley, and I'm turning 13. My B-day is 10/08/2008.)
Me and my wife were out at dinner. Me being 48 and her being 19, people were screaming at us and calling me a creep. It really ruined our 10th anniversary.
Hi, I'm new here and I'm 11. I'm just bored and want a girlfriend.
Does anyone have Snapchat or Twitter? I can show you what I look like ;)
I'm 43 and my date is 19. A man rudely comes up to our table and calls me a pedophile. I told him to fuck off, this is our 10th anniversary.
Old woman: You are such a darling child. Please come and see me again next year.
A year later, as child walks up to the door of the old lady's house...
Old woman: Oh my! Goodness sakes, child! Have you grown, or have I shrank???
Child: Both.
Yo mama is so old, I told her to act her age, and she died.
I remember when I was at a funeral at the age of 6. I was with my grandma and asked, "Grandma, Grandma, why is that man in a box?"
And she says, "He's in a better place now." I look at her confused and ask, "What kind of box did he live in before?! How is this box better than the last one?! It's just a box!"
And to this day I am still not allowed to go to funerals.
If you own a gun and you live in the USA, hide your gun upstairs. Biden can't get it.
Biden: *falls over on steps*
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...