If Canada had to apologise for Bryan Adams on several occasions, it's only fair that Americans are tortured and waterboarded for bringing Katy Perry and Carrie Underwood to the world!
How did Teddy Roosevelt swing all the ladies?
He spoke softly and carried a big stick.
Me: *sprays some perfume on myself*
Friend: Omg, that smells so good! You’re so aromatic, how do you not have a bf yet?
Me: ... I’m aromantic and aromatic. I do not desire romantic relationships with others although I do enjoy carrying lovely scents with me.
Why did the rapper always carry a pencil?
In case he had to draw a crowd.
A black lady goes inside the drug store and asks the pharmacist, "Do you carry tampons?" Then the pharmacist asks the black lady, "Do you want the mini pads or the maxi pads?"
And then the black lady asks the pharmacist, "What is the difference?"
And then the pharmacist asks the black lady, "What is your flow like?"
And then the black lady tells the pharmacist, "Linoleum."
My father told me to always carry a women's bag, but I don't know why he called the cops on me when I helped Mom's bag when we went parachuting. :(
Why did the hip-hop artist always carry a pencil?
For those FREESTYLE DRAFTS!
Why did the rapper always carry a map?
Because he was afraid of getting LOST in the BARS.
Why did the rapper carry an umbrella?
For some sick DRIZZLE on his tracks.
Why did the rapper carry a notebook everywhere?
To jot down his RAP-SODIES.
Why did the rapper always carry a flashlight?
To SHINE A LIGHT on his talent!
Why did the rapper carry an UMBRELLA?
Because he heard there was a 50% chance of "Lil Wayne."
Why did the rapper always carry a camera?
Because he wanted to "capture" the rap star!
Why did the rapper always carry a map?
So he could navigate his way through the rap game.
Why did the rapper carry an umbrella?
In case of ill rhymes!
Why did the rapper carry an umbrella?
For when he made it RAIN in the club.
An old man goes to church.
One Sunday morning, an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt, and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand, he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn-out Bible.
The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories.
As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.
As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship."
The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.
The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again, he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."
"I did," replied the old cowboy.
"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.
"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church."
This pastor decided to skip church one Sunday morning and go play golf.
He told his assistant that he wasn't feeling well. He drove to a golf course in another city, so nobody would know him.
He teed off on the first hole. A huge gust of wind caught his ball, carried it an extra hundred yards and dropped it right in the hole, for a 450 yard hole in one.
An angel looked at God and said "What'd you do that for?" God smiled and said "Who's he going to tell?"
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."
In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.
With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.
His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.
With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.
He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.
Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.
The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.
For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.
Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.
