Bowl jokes
Me: Do you take milk before cereal, or cereal before milk?
The adult person I asked: Cereal?
Me: I take the bowl first! What do you do? Do you just pour everything on the table and then eat it?
The person: Yes.
Me: WHAT?!!!??!!
Little Johnny was living with his grandpa during the summer. Well, grandpa had a beer, and Johnny said, "Grandpa, let me get a sip of that." Grandpa said, "Well, lil Johnny, does your d**k reach your a**?" And lil Johnny said, "Well no sir." And grandpa said, then no, you can't.
Later that day, papaw (grandpa) had a cigar, and Johnny said let me get a hit of that, and papaw asked, "Well, Johnny, does your d**k reach your a**?" And Johnny said no again. Then papaw was shooting his gun, and Johnny asked if he could shoot it, and grandpa asked Johnny if his d**k reached his a**, and Johnny said no.
Well, after supper, Johnny's grandma made Johnny some ice cream (the most amazing bowl of ice cream EVER), and grandpa said, "Johnny, let me get a bit of that ice cream," and Johnny asked papaw, "Well, papaw, does your d**k reach your a**?" And papaw said, "Well, Johnny, as a matter of a fact, it does," and Johnny said, "Good, now go f**k yourself because you ain't getting none of my ice cream!"
Blondes like their men how they like their rice: brown, 500 at a time, and all in her bowl.
The coach of the Detroit Lions had put together the perfect football team. But then his quarterback got blindsided and was out for the season with a knee injury.
Then his backup went down with a concussion. He tried the trading route, free agents, but nobody any good was available.
One evening while watching the news from Iraq, he saw a young Iraqi soldier with an amazing arm. The soldier rifled a grenade on a perfect arc into a 4th story window from 100 yards, bam!
He tossed another directly into a tight group of 12 enemy fighters 80 yards away, ka-bam! Then a humvee passed, going 60 kph, boom! Another perfect shot!
Coach said to himself, "I got to have this guy. He's got the best arm I've ever seen!"
He tracks him down and convinces him to come to Detroit. The kid takes coaching perfectly, makes all the plays, and long story short, the Lions win the Super Bowl.
The Iraqi is now the Conquering Hero in pro football, and a huge story. But when the broadcast team tries to interview him, all he wants is to phone his mom.
"Mother," he yells over the phone, "We just won the Super Bowl!"
"Don't talk to me," the woman says. "You abandoned us. You can't be my son."
The young Iraqi begs, "Mom, you don't understand! Our team won the biggest game here in the U.S. Thousands of fans are screaming for me. The U.S. President is going to call me!"
"I don't care," his mother snaps. "Right now I can hear gunshots everywhere. Our block is like a ruin. Your brothers were beaten half to death last night, and your sister was nearly raped."
Then she says, "I can never forgive you for making us move to Detroit."
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.
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)
Why did the orphan have an empty bowl?
Because they already ate their supper.
A guy wins a free ticket to the Super Bowl and so he’s very excited.
However, he’s not so excited when he gets there and realizes his seat’s in the back of the stadium.
So he looks around him for a better seat, and to his surprise he finds an empty seat right next to the field.
He approaches the older guy who’s sitting in the seat next to the empty one and asks if the seat is taken.
The man replies, “No.”
The young guy is very surprised to hear this and asks, “How could someone pass up a seat like this?”
The older guy replies, “It’s my wife’s seat. We’ve been to every Super Bowl together since the day we were married but she’s passed away.”
“Oh, how sad,” the young guy says, taken aback. “I’m sorry to hear that, but couldn’t you find a friend or relative to come with you?”
“No,” the man replies, “They’re all at the funeral.”
Yo mama's so fat, she brought a spoon to the Super Bowl!
What's the difference between an orphan and a bowl of apples?
The apples got picked!
Are you a Chipotle bowl? Because I wanna eat you out.
How do you get a baby into a small bowl?
A blender.
How do you get it out? Tostito chips.
What's the difference between a truck full of babies and a truck full of bowling balls?
You can only unload one of them with a pitch fork.
How do you make Alabama cookies?
Put them in a big bowl and beat for three hours.
Who are the best at bowling?
Terrorists, they always throw strikes.
Yo mama's so stupid, when they said it was chilly outside, she grabbed a bowl.
My hemorrhoids are so bad, I’ve had toilet bowls that looked like abortions.
I got a bowl of rice that you're formed like, an ice cube.
What's the difference between a blonde and a bowling ball?
I can only fit three fingers inside the bowling ball.
When I found out that 10 billion bowls of soup are consumed each year in AMERICA, I thought to myself, "I thought soup was healthy. Apparently not!"