Back jokes
Me: Do you eat your cereal with water? You: No, why? Me: 'Cause your dad never came back with the milk!
Gwen is back, Freshfry is back, Addison Banks is back... This website is coming back to the golden age!
Your hairline goes further back than your mum's divorce.
A man and a boy are walking into a forest. It begins to get dark. The boy says "Mister, I'm scared." The man replies "How do you think I feel, I have to walk back alone."
I can't decide if I like rocking chairs or not.
I keep going back and forth on them.
Three Indians get captured by an enemy leader, and the leader says, "Go in the woods and find 10 fruits of the same kind."
The first one comes back with apples. The enemy leader says, "Shove them up your butt and don't make a sound, or I will kill you." He gets to two and yells. The leader kills him. He goes up to heaven.
The second guy comes back and has grapes. He gets to 9 and laughs. The leader kills him. He goes to heaven.
The first guy asks the second guy why he laughed, saying he had it in the bag. The second guy said he saw the third guy carrying pineapples.
Jesus was being hung up on the cross, and me and all the other people at the bottom of the hill were watching. Jesus cries out,
"Peter, Peter come to me!"
So I climb up the hill on my hands and knees, and when I reach the top, the Romans cut off my arms and chuck me back down the hill.
"Peter, Peter come to me!" cries Jesus once more. I stumble up the hill, then the Romans cut my legs off and threw me back down. For the third time, Jesus cries,
"Peter, Peter come to me!". So I wriggle up the hill, and I guess the Romans pitied me and let me through.
"Look Peter, I can see my house from here!"
Ugly face dude: Hi kiddo!
Kid: Hi kid. Leaves.
Kid turns back and says: Wait a minute, who are you?
Q: Why can’t orphans play baseball?
A: 'Cause they can’t get back to home.
A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?" The dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I'm the breadwinner of the family, so let's call me capitalism. Your mother, she's the administrator of the money, so we'll call her the government. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the people. The nanny, we'll consider her the working class. And your baby brother, we'll call him the future. Now, think about that and see if that makes sense."
The little boy goes off to bed thinking about what dad had said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has soiled his diaper. The little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.
The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now." The father says, "Good son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about."
The little boy replies, "Well, while capitalism is screwing the working class, the government is sound asleep, the people are being ignored and the future is in deep shit."
Why did Adam commit suicide? Andy went through the back door.
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by…expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years…already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means…
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit…shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do…”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until…
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck…don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore…I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH…FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)
Your hairline and your forehead must have a lot in common because they go waaaaaaaayyy back!
I have a better method of abortion than currently used. It's like a regular one, except you can get free food out of it... We're about to give baby-back ribs a whole new meaning.
I went to see my grandfather in the hospital because I wanted to get to know him better before he passed, maybe take a selfie with him. But when I got there my phone died, so I unplugged a vacuum to plug in my phone. And it turns out he only knows Spanish, so when he kept saying, "Me desconectaste el soporte de mi vida," I thought he wanted water. But when I got back with the water he was asleep, and now my phone was charged, so I translated what he said. And it was, "You unplugged my life support." That's when I called the doctor...
Good news is, I got one sick selfie!
Why do orphans like the number seven? It's lucky, so maybe their parents will come back.
Your hairline is so far back that it looks like Putin's tanks steamrolled through.
BF: Babe, I have two questions.
GF: Ok, ask!
BF: Where have you been all my life?
GF: Aww, that's so sweet. And the second question?
BF: Can you please go back there?
Papyrus: Sans, stop being a lazy Bones.
Sans: Why bro, guess you don't have the back bone to do anything, heheh.
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."