Hey man what's that a dynamite you have in your hand? Ok well hold it over I'll give it right back oh no i won't oh yes you will oh i won't oh yes you will ok fine then you take it or all blow our your butt before it farts.
I may not be the brightest candle on the cake, but you can still blow me.
Clear all your debts with one easy payment. Buy a shotgun and blow your head off.
Rock-a-bye dummy, in the tree top.
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.
Down will come dummy, cradle and all.
What happened to the terrorist who tried to blow up a bus?
He burnt himself on the exhaust pipe.
My friend had a house FULL of okra, but it blew up and okra was everywhere.
I guess you can call that place Okra-homa!
You blow a kiss up.
Your eyes were bright up your ass.
What do Middle Eastern suicide bombers say before they blow up?
I weel sho u wot da bom bom is! ALLAH!
A man walks into a bar. He sits down and orders a beer. After 10 shots of vodka, the guy had, the bartender figured if he talked to him, he would tell him everything as he’s not sober.
Bartender: Hey, that’s some nice jewellery you have there. It must be expensive.
Guy: Yeah, this bracelet is made of 100% diamond. It cost me like 250 thousand dollars. What a bargain, eh?
Bartender: Seems like you make a lot of money. What do you do for a living?
Guy: I take cash from the bank and don’t give it back. It takes a lot of moral courage to rob banks to provide for my family.
Bartender: What? If that’s the case, then why do you even pay for the jewellery or this beer? You’re a hypocrite, that’s what you are, justifying robbing people as a living.
Guy: Hypocrite? You’re right. I'm living with double standards to justify my actions.
(5 seconds later)
Guy: Aye, open the cash register and give me your wallet or I will blow your fucking brains out. I fucking hate hypocrites and I will not gonna be one of em!
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.
Yes, sir.
Four big guys and they grab on my thighs. Blow up my guts like the 4th of July. If they keep fuckin' my butt then I might just cry. Poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.
He lick my dick and the cum start sprayin'. Charging up my dick I'ma go super saiyan. When he cum the fuckin' booty I don't do much playing. Then I whispered in his ear, like hey are you stayin'? He said yeah I'm not leavin'.
I guess he George Floyd, cause always leavin'. Not breathin' he chew on my dick like a baby. That's teathin' I'm fuckin' a nigga I think it's named Steven. Hawkin' f*ck him 'til he ain't walkin', dick stone-cold call him BBC. Austin It's a booty massacre when I visit him in Boston. Bought him new titties I don't care what they costin'.
Bitch, hop on the dick do a split. Shout out Lil Baby. My dick is as real as it gets, I'm not fuckin' on him if he don't have tits. I'm catchin' his balls like my name Kyle Bitz.
There's four Big guys, they're grabin' on my thighs. They blow my guts like the 4th of July. If he keep fuckin' my butt then I might cry. There's poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.
Yes sir, that is a fact tho, take out my dick slip it in his asshole. Swinging my dick through the air like a lasso. Painted his face like Apollo Pocasso (ugh). But I'm not a very good artist, f*ck 'em all good 'til that. Nigga farted planted my seeds in his ass like a garden. The way I play with balls, you should call me James Harden.
Yeah, DigBar is elite, there's four big guys and I'm takin' their meat. I eat the boy's butt, Then I chase him with skeet. And I charge for booty, I promise DigBar Isn't cheap. And I count dudes when I sleep, not sheep, get up in my sheets. And I'm beatin' on my meat.
Bitch. We got four big guys and they grab on my thighs. And they gon' bust on my eyes.
I gave a blind kid a gun and said it was a blow dryer.
My cousin: Brother, I lost in a game of Call of Duty: Moe Bill [he was supposed to pronounce it as mobile; however, I left it as it is].
Me: So tell me about it then.
My cousin: I lost to Sum_Baldi.
Me: Somebody? Don’t they have, like, the name of you opponents?
My cousin: No, no, no, the name was Sum_Baldi. S.U.M_B.A.L.D.I.
Me: Ok, my bad. Continue.
My cousin: I got Sum_Baldi, and 5 seconds later, I got kill[ed] by Sum_Fing_Wong.
Me: It’s not wrong! In Call of Duty, you are suppose to kill or be killed.
My cousin: No, no, no, the name was Sum_Fing_Wong. S.U.M_F.I.N.G_W.O.N.G.
Me: My bad again. Do continue.
My cousin: I got so angry I blow[ed] up.
Me: So you got blowed up, by what weapon?
My cousin: By the game.
Me: [was not expecting that for an answer]
What did Ronnie have at Taco Bell?
A mind-blowing bean burrito.
I wanted to bomb a restaurant, so I went in there with a bomb, but the bomb got diffused and did not work.
I asked a person standing nearby. I said, "Hey, do you know how to fix this bomb so I can blow up this place?"
He gave me a book.
It was the Quran.
I said, "What the hell is that?"
He said, "This is the official manual for bomb making."
My neighbor has been mad at his wife for sunbathing nude. I personally am on the fence.
