All Jokes

As I grow older, I remember all the people I lost along the way. Maybe tour guide wasn't the right career choice for me...

How to catch Bigfoot: 1. Dig a large pit. 2. Build a fire in the pit and let it burn all the way to ashes. 3. Place small green peas all around the rim of the pit. 4. Hide in the bushes and wait. When Bigfoot goes to take a pea, kick him in the ash hole.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.

"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.

In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.

But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.

So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.

And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.

In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.

So basically Star25/AG3.0 and GG miller are the same person since I found some evidence.

On one post, AG3.0 asked GG miller what’s his name.

Post right here: worstjokesever.com/community/p/6509c2cbefa8ad0a8dfd8dc5

So gg miller replied, “MILLER IS MY REAL LAST NAME, AND GG IS MY REAL MIDDLE NAME”

So, we already know Star25’s real name is Adrian Gorges because when he had the AG3.0 account, he said that AG stands for Adrian Gorges. And we also can back this up with his tik tok. www.tiktok.com/@adriangorges2010?lang=en

But, there’s an important factor. Gorges can also be shortened to GG.

So, we know that GG miller is AG3.0, but let’s back this up even further. If you search up adrianmiller2010, it pops up with AG3.0’s new account’s videos. Since GG Miller’s name says, “Miller” in it, that means that GG Miller IS ag3.0

So taking all of this evidence, we can conclude that AG3.0’s full name, which is, “Adrian Gorges Miller”.

Lmk if you have any more things abouts ag3.0 so we can expose him even more.

Yesterday I saw a guy spill all his Scrabble letters on the road.

I asked him, “What’s the word on the street?”

Fat jokes and mom jokes😂

1. So fat when she sat on the toilet, she said, "A B C D E F G, get your fat ass off me."

2. So fat, your dad and her were in bed and tried to kiss. He’d have to slap her belly and ride the third wave up.

3. Yo mama so fat that when she went to Japan in a green bikini, they all started yelling, "Godzilla, Godzilla."

4. Your mama’s so fat when she went bungee jumping, she broke the bridge!

5. Bill was so fat when he stepped on the scale, it said "to be continued."

6. Yo mama so fat, she put on her lipstick with a paint-roller.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

My name shows it all if you can't see, IDC AT ALL, you can ban me.

But let me tell you one thing, Without God, Isr-el is nothing.

So let me say it again, one last time, Free Free Palestine!

In a world of feline folly, There lived a cat with a secret, A taste for adventure and mischief, And a love for KFC's golden treat.

With eyes like emerald jewels, And fur as black as night, This feline prowled the streets, In search of a savory delight.

Oh, how it yearned for chicken, Crispy and finger-lickin' good, But the cat knew it had to be sly, To satisfy its craving like it should.

Through alleyways it stealthily tiptoed, With nimble paws and a stealthy glide, Until it stumbled upon a secret, That made its hunger amplified.

A stash of KFC's golden eggs, Hidden away from prying eyes, An accidental treasure trove, A feast fit for a feline paradise.

With each stolen egg devoured, The cat's satisfaction grew, The taste of crispy breading, And juicy chicken, it knew.

Word soon spread of this food bandit, A legend of a cat so bold, Whispers echoed through the town, Of the one who stole the KFC gold.

But the cat with the KFC get eggs, Remained a mystery to all, A phantom of the night it became, Leaving no trace, no trail to recall.

And so, it continues its nightly quest, For chicken that satisfies its soul, The cat with the KFC get eggs, Forever on the prowl, never to be controlled.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

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.

Madden Whiffen, a curious soul, With an appetite beyond control, A bottomless pit, never satisfied, Ingesting all that's placed beside.

From dawn till dusk, he feasts his way, Devouring meals without delay, With gusto he consumes, without restrain, Every morsel, every crumb, he'll obtain.

No dish too large, no portion too small, His hunger insatiable, devouring it all, From succulent meats to delicate greens, He relishes the flavors, savoring each scene.

A culinary adventure, forever he embarks, Sampling cuisines from all walks and arcs, From street food to gourmet, he seeks it all, His palate an explorer, on a constant sprawl.

He savors the spices, the textures, the taste, In a gastronomic journey, no time to waste, For Madden Whiffen, the food is his muse, A symphony of flavors, he'll never refuse.

But caution, dear friends, in this feeding spree, For gluttony can lead to a troublesome plea, Madden Whiffen, beware the consequences, For overindulgence brings no recompenses.

In the realm of cuisine, he reigns supreme, A legend of eating, a man of extreme, Madden Whiffen, the one who eats it all, In his gastronomic pursuit, he stands tall.

So let us marvel at his voracious might, As he devours dishes, day and night, For in Madden Whiffen, we witness the feat, A man who eats everything, a culinary elite.

Jayden March, a name so bold, Never knew the joy of cookies untold. In a world of sugar and sweet delight, He stood apart, an unusual sight.

While others indulged in sugary bliss, Jayden abstained, dismissing the kiss Of chocolate chips and dough so divine, His willpower strong, his resolve intertwined.

No oatmeal raisin or double fudge, Could tempt his taste buds, not even a nudge. For Jayden March, a different path he took, In a world of cookies, he never partook.

His reasons unknown, a mystery untold, Perhaps he sought something purer than gold. Or maybe he craved a different kind of treat, One that couldn't be found in a cookie sheet.

But as the years passed by, curiosity grew, Whispers of wonder, questions anew. Why did Jayden March deny such delight? Was there a secret hidden in his resolute fight?

Some say he found solace in nature's embrace, In the rustle of leaves and the wind's gentle pace. Others believed his heart sought a different reward, In acts of kindness, love freely poured.

Jayden March, a man of mystery and grace, Marched to a beat only he could embrace. In a world of cookies, he found his own way, Leaving us wondering, pondering day by day.

For though he never tasted the sweetness of a treat, Jayden March's story remains incomplete. A reminder to us all, to explore and define, Our own desires, our own paths to find.

So let us celebrate Jayden's unique choice, And listen to the whisper of our own inner voice. For in a world of cookies, may we remember, That sometimes it's the journey, not the taste, we treasure.

In a world bizarre, Penis burgers, strange delight, Tantalizing taste.

Buns shaped curiously, Meat, a bold centerpiece, Lingering delight.

Sizzling grill, they sizzle, Juicy secrets unfold, Hidden pleasures found.

Tempting, yet absurd, Controversial cuisine, Curiosity piques.

Daring, adventurous, Palates embark on a quest, Uncharted flavors.

But let us not dwell, On the phallic form they hold, For taste transcends all.

Beyond flesh-shaped buns, Flavors dance upon our tongues, A feast for senses.

So let us partake, In this culinary art, With open-minded hearts.

In fields of gold, where sunshine beams, Monkeys swing and play, it's their dreams. Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, Picking cotton with delight.

Their little hands so quick and neat, Plucking the cotton, can't be beat. They chatter and laugh, they dance and play, In the fields all day, they'll stay.

Their tails so long, their ears so big, They're quite the sight, it's quite a gig. They're busy as can be, you see, In the fields of cotton, they're free.

So let us marvel at these little thieves, In the fields of gold, they give and receive. Their antics bring us joy and delight, In the fields of cotton, they're always right.

Oh, the monkeys in the trees, they dance and they play, Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, they chatter all day. Their tails so long, their hands so fine, they swing and they sway, In the trees, they're the kings of the fray.

Their antics bring joy, their laughter so free, They're a delight to watch, as they jump and they spree. Their mischief is contagious, their fun so true, They're a treasure, a gift to me and you.

Their little hands so deft, their feet so light, They swing through the trees, with grace and might. They're a wonder, a marvel to see, A precious gift, a treasure to me.