Building

Building Jokes

America Twin Tower: Hey have you seen the Malaysian Twin tower i have but only since 1971 to 2001 Malaysian Twin tower: I STOOD LONGER

Why did the rapper become a construction worker?

Because they were always BUILDING UP their RHYMES

Three men are working on a building site.

Everyday, they sit down to eat their lunch together at the top of the building.

The first man opens his lunchbox to reveal a ham sandwich.

“By god,” the man exclaims, “I hate ham sandwiches. I’ve been working in construction for twenty years, and everyday, despite me telling her how much I despise it, my wife gives me a ham sandwich. If I get a ham sandwich in my lunch again, I will throw myself off the top of this building and kill myself.”

The second man opens his lunchbox, revealing a cheese sandwich.

“Holy crow, another cheese sandwich! I hate these things, I tell you. Everyday, I tell my wife how much I despise cheese sandwiches, but I still get them in my lunch. I’m with you buddy—if I ever get a cheese sandwich in my lunch again, I’m killing myself.”

The third man, having opened his lunchbox, now pipes in.

“I don’t believe it—another tuna sandwich! If I had a penny for every time I’ve told my wife how much I hate these, I wouldn’t have to work on this sordid site no more! I’m sick of it—count me in, if I get a tuna sandwich in my lunchbox again, I’m killing myself.”

The next day, the three men regroup at the top of the building and open their lunchboxes: the first man – a ham sandwich, the second – a cheese sandwich, the third – a tuna sandwich.

The three men exchange solemn looks before jumping in unison from the height of the building.

At the funeral for the three men, their grieving wives turn to each other.

“If only I’d known how much he didn’t like ham sandwiches,” says the first man’s wife, “I always thought he was being ironic!”

“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like cheese sandwiches,” says the second man’s wife, “I always thought he was being sarcastic!”

“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like tuna sandwiches,” says the third man’s wife, “but I don’t know what good it would have done—the fool made his own lunch!”

Dear Victims.....äh Passengers, we are flying now from Ryadh to New York. Amazing Building...äh Amazing City. Theres online but 2000 there ware two Towers.....äh Restaurants. We Hijack the plane....äh Hi Jack. Jack is my Co-pilot and i said hello. Don‘t scream...History Repea..äh.. History never comes back, we are now flying back to the Airport“💀

How to catch Bigfoot: 1. Dig a large pit. 2. Build a fire in the pit and let it burn all the way to ashes. 3. Place small green peas all around the rim of the pit. 4. Hide in the bushes and wait. When Bigfoot goes to take a pea, kick him in the ash hole.

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 pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.

What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.

From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.

With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.

The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.

Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.

But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.

Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.

So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.

So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.

Bin Laden’s kid comes sad from school. “Dad I got an F in Geography class!” “Why is that?” “The teacher asked me what’s the tallest building in New York and I said ‘Empire State Building’” Bin Laden waits a moment and then replies, “Let dad handle this one.”