BlessedBrian is always stupid, but he’s been making a SPECIAL EFFORT recently.
Why don't rappers ever play hide-and-seek?
Because good luck hiding when your name's always dropping!
Why did the rapper become a chef?
Because he was always COOKING UP RHYMES!
Why was the rapper always good at math?
Because he had a lot of FLOW CHARTS.
What does Leo have in common with a newspaper?
They both love to yap and babble, and they always get fondled by old people.
Why was the rapper so good at math?
Because he could always count his bars.
Why did the rapper always carry a camera?
Because he wanted to "capture" the rap star!
Why don't rappers ever get lost?
Because they always follow the beat.
Why did the rapper always carry a map?
So he could navigate his way through the rap game.
Why was the rapper always in a rush?
Because he was on the FAST TRACK to RAP STARDOM!
Why don't rappers ever make good chefs?
Because they always drop the beet!
Why was the rapper always calm?
Because he had FLOW-ZEN.
I know why Asian's eyes are always closed. It's because Americans are so fat and ugly.
Why was the rapper always cold?
Because he kept spitting ice!
Boys are like minis.
Girls are like big pots.
Minis always come first. Don't think about sex boys, be men.
Why can lesbians not drive cars?
They always strap the wrong thing on.
Why couldn’t the leopard play hide and seek? Because he was always spotted.
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!"
Girls are like blackjack.
I always want 21 but end up hitting on 14.
