Art Jokes

I was talking to a close friend that was Islamic.

He said he was being shipped to an amazing training.

I asked "where are you going"

He said "Camp Bin Laden"

I asked "what do they do there"

He answered "they got bomb training and hand to hand combat training. Plus the got arts and crafts."

I asked "what do you mean by arts and crafts?"

He said "see this towel on my head" I nodded "I made it out of boxer jokes"

Art more like fart hahahahhahahahahahhah

When I trying to eat, but I hurt my feet. When I using a hoe, but I hurt my toe. When I going to a doctor, but then I get trolled. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!

When I using a copper, but I enveloped by a hopper. When I trying to draw someone, but it ended up with a punishment. When I spit on a bunny, it jumps right on me. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!

When I growing older, someone called me a slacker. When I was 33, I bumped into a tree. When I getting angry, people calls me crazy lady. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!

What do you call a fish in a bowl.... fish bowl art at art art

r u a toaster? cuz i wanna take a bath wit u r u a knife? cuz u make me wanna kms r u a painting? cuz i hang u r u the flu? cuz u make me wanna hurl r u a newspaper? cuz u have new problems everyday r u the ground? cuz im six feet deep in u ;)

How to learn your Vitamins. A = Art. B = Bouncy Balls. C = Cookies. D = Da Sun. You'll be smarter than a doctor next time you visit!

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.

In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.

With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.

His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.

With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.

He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.

Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.

The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.

For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.

Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.