Bathroom jokes
Pooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooop!
What is the origin of the glory hole?
The origins can be found in San Francisco, California, where historians claim that a meat thermometer was sticking out of a hole from both sides, especially the divider between bathroom stalls inside the men's restroom used for an anonymous massage for gay men by gay men in San Francisco, CA, in the Wild West.
When I'm peeing in a toilet I don't pee directly into the water. I pee on the curved part of the bowl beside the water because I figure it splashes less, but when you're peeing that close to the edge, the sporadic tiny offshoots of pee become a greater threat.
I'm not sure if the accumulation of these offshoots is greater than the potential splashback from peeing mid-bowl. It's possible that I'm thinking about this too much, but it's also possible that I'm not thinking about this enough.
Why does Helen Keller loom in the toilet after taking a poop?
Nobody knows!
Why did oozy go to the toilet to eat trains?
So, a guy is taking a piss in a public bathroom. He looks over and sees a short guy with a very large green dick, who looks up at him and says, “Is there a problem, boyoh?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that thing is huge, and why the hell is it green?!” The man replies, “I’m a leprechaun.”
“Really?” says the man.
“That’s right. And I’ll grant you three wishes if you let me stick it in your pooper.”
“Anything I want?! Three of them?” replies the man.
“Anything in your wildest dreams, boyoh, but you have to let me finish.”
The man bends over, and the leprechaun puts it in. Thrusting back and forth, he asks for the man’s first wish.
“I want a giant yacht!”
“Aye,” says the leprechaun. “It’s pulling into your own private harbor now.”
“For my second wish, I want a billion dollars,” the man says, beginning to sweat.
“Aye, it’s stacked inside the yacht waiting for you,” the leprechaun replies.
“Okay,” the man groans in pain. “For my final wish, I want this yacht to be full of beautiful women.”
“You betcha, boyoh,” says the leprechaun. “The girls are there waiting for you nooWWW,” as he lets out a moan of pleasure.
The man, exhausted and sore, says, “That was rough, but worth it for those wishes. Where do I go?”
The little man with the giant green dick, pulling up his pants, his accent now gone says: “Aren’t you a little old to be believing in leprechauns?”
Why did the poop shout, "Ooh!"
It was poohp.
Why does the Queen play poker on the toilet?
Because she always gets a Royal flush!
A man from Brooklyn is arguing with an Englishman. He says things like,
"It's an elevator, not a lift!"
and
"It's a bathroom! Not 'washroom'!"
He keeps going on until the Englishman says,
"Hey wanker, it's a school, not a god damned shooting range."
If you're Canadian in the kitchen, then what are you in the bathroom?
European.
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)
What do girls and toilet roll have in common?
They both deal with a lot of crap.
I'm going to hang myself in the bathroom at school and put a note telling kids that I'm a piñata.
You're so dumb that every time you use the bathroom, you use your shoe to wipe your ass.
When I shit in the toilet, I think that if I shit hard enough, I can see my asshole plug.
So do you guys know those waterslides that you stand in, and then they suddenly drop you straight down onto the water slide? If not, look them up on YouTube, there's nothing like them.
Ah yes, the sweet memories of my first time on one of these. I feel that my mental/emotional scars have healed enough to tell this gem.
At the time my girlfriend, now Fiancée, worked as a photographer for one of those resorts with the indoor and outdoor water parks. One of her perks was that her and a family member/friend could get into the waterpark for free, so one hot summer day she had off and we both decided it'd be fun to go there and cool down for the day.
While we were there, I discovered one of there most "Thrilling" looking waterslides. Basically you stand in this tube, and then the slide operator presses a button and this slide drops you straight down a good 90 FEET, before you actually start going down the water slide. Me, being a thrill seeker, of course had to try it. So I made the great climb up to the top of the slide, stood in line, and finally it was my turn. Once I got in the tube, the operator told me to keep my legs crossed. Now I'm a pretty big heavy guy, so I was like "That's uncomfortable as fuck, I'm not doing that."
So there I was standing in the tube, having a panic attack from anticipation, with my legs not crossed. The operator finally presses the button, the bottom opens and I fall straight down the water slide. Very quickly I realized why they have you cross your legs. Water shot so far up my ass, so fast, I swear I tasted it in my mouth. My body raced down that slide, as I questioned every life choice that I have ever made.
Once I made it to the bottom, I sat there for a moment, absolutely violated. I felt like someone in an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I built up the courage to finally stand up, and all I could feel was the nice warm stream of water mixed with shit, and maybe a little bit of blood shoot out of my ass faster than the Steamboat Geyser at Yellowstone National Park. I quickly got off the slide and ran to the bathroom, with a trail of shitty water tailing me as the slide operator stared in awe. They had to shut down the slide for the rest of the day :'), but man was my asshole clean after that!
Moral of the story: Keep your damn legs crossed on waterslides.
Same thing goes when you are at bible study with a handsy priest.
Poop Jackson.
Why couldn't the toilet paper cross the road?
He was stuck in the crack.
What do you call a suicide bomber under the water?
A bath bomb.
I have a little John.