Always

Always jokes

Add joke

Boys are like minis.

Girls are like big pots.

Minis always come first. Don't think about sex boys, be men.

Dave got a new job at the suicide hotline.

The manager shows him to his desk and Dave has a seat.

The manager says, "Remember! Your job is to make sure that the person at the other end of the line does not kill himself, no matter what! That's the one thing you have to do!"

Dave says "No problem! I will do exactly what you just told me!" and the manager leaves him to his job.

A few minutes, later Dave's phone rings.

"Hello?" Dave answers. No response for a few seconds, then a voice appears.

"My wife cheated on me," a man says. The man on the other end of the line is clearly depressed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dave says.

"I found out that she's been doing it for months; she says I don't treat her well enough. She's filing for divorce and threatening to take the kids from me. I don't know what to do. I just took up drinking and gambling, the pain goes away at first but it always comes back. I don't think I can even afford to see a psychiatrist; money is tight as it always is. I wish I could manage my finances better... I just don't see any way out. I think the only thing I can do that makes sense is to just kill myself."

Dave pauses for a moment, thinks, and then he asks:

"Wouldn't it make more sense to kill her?"

Three men are working on a building site.

Every day, they sit down to eat their lunch together at the top of the building.

The first man opens his lunchbox to reveal a ham sandwich.

"By god," the man exclaims, "I hate ham sandwiches. I’ve been working in construction for twenty years, and every day, despite me telling her how much I despise it, my wife gives me a ham sandwich. If I get a ham sandwich in my lunch again, I will throw myself off the top of this building and kill myself."

The second man opens his lunchbox, revealing a cheese sandwich.

"Holy crow, another cheese sandwich! I hate these things, I tell you. Every day, I tell my wife how much I despise cheese sandwiches, but I still get them in my lunch. I’m with you buddy—if I ever get a cheese sandwich in my lunch again, I’m killing myself."

The third man, having opened his lunchbox, now pipes in.

"I don’t believe it—another tuna sandwich! If I had a penny for every time I’ve told my wife how much I hate these, I wouldn’t have to work on this sordid site no more! I’m sick of it—count me in, if I get a tuna sandwich in my lunchbox again, I’m killing myself."

The next day, the three men regroup at the top of the building and open their lunchboxes: the first man – a ham sandwich, the second – a cheese sandwich, the third – a tuna sandwich.

The three men exchange solemn looks before jumping in unison from the height of the building.

At the funeral for the three men, their grieving wives turn to each other.

"If only I’d known how much he didn’t like ham sandwiches," says the first man’s wife, "I always thought he was being ironic!"

"And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like cheese sandwiches," says the second man’s wife, "I always thought he was being sarcastic!"

"And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like tuna sandwiches," says the third man’s wife, "but I don’t know what good it would have done—the fool made his own lunch!"

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."

Why do people who get shot in the head always become therapists?

They are more open-minded.

This lady has 2 parrots that only say one thing: "Hi, we're prostitutes, wanna have some fun?"

So she goes and tells her pastor. He responds with, "I have two parrots as well, they are always praying, and they have everything that a parrot needs to be a Christian. Maybe if we put our parrots together, mine will fix yours."

They proceed to do so, and the lady's parrots say, "Hi, we're prostitutes, wanna have some fun?" and the pastor's parrots reply with "Johnny, drop your beads and lift your heads, our prayers have been answered!"

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.

Thomas Bulgin loves McDonald's dollars, A man of simple tastes, he hollers, With every visit, his heart does flutter, For golden arches, a fast food lover.

Those crispy fries, so perfectly fried, And burgers stacked, oh so high, The smell of grease, it fills the air, Thomas Bulgin, he'll always be there.

A dollar menu, his saving grace, A feast for him, a smile on his face, He counts his coins, with eager eyes, To savor each bite, a little prize.

In this world of fast-paced lives, Thomas Bulgin, he surely thrives, For in those golden arches, he finds, A moment of joy, that forever binds.

He cares not for gourmet cuisine, Nor fancy plates, fit for a queen, For in his heart, a simple truth, McDonald's dollars, his fountain of youth.

So let him eat, and let him feast, Thomas Bulgin, the fast food beast, For in those golden arches, he's found, A taste of happiness, unbound.

Danny's Chromebook, Charger in his eager hands, Power for his world.

Fingers click and type, Words flow with electric grace, Thoughts come to life.

Screen illuminates, Imagination takes flight, Limitless pages.

Infinite knowledge, Unleashed through digital realms, Chromebook charger's might.

Danny's trusted friend, Always ready to connect, Bound by cord and fate.

Together they thrive, Exploring vast horizons, Endless possibilities.

Danny with his Chromebook charger, A duo, unstoppable, Unleashing their dreams.

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.