I was being interviewed by Elon Musk. He asked "where are you from" and I said Portugal. He replied, "so you are a fellow country man of a Pen merchant whose freekick ball broke my rover on Mars. Get out!!". Tears ran down my face. Shame on you Penaldo for costing me my dream job
America has white people that are terrorists and racists. They love to blame people from different countries for what they have done.
White person: We are not terrorists. Why would ever do that in our history? The rest of the people: *looks at them stupid* Yall were the first mother fuckers to be a terrorist first and then wanting to blame others for your action.
1 person: You still carrying that confederate flag. It means hatred and still trying to fight to bring back slaves again. Yall say it's heritage and not hate but clearly still a fucking loser and your flag has an X means wrong. So... Still a loser. People can't be racist to a racist. It just doesn't make sense. Im not saying all white people are racist but I am talking about the ones who voted for trump and be blind as hell. FUCK DONALD TRUMP AND THE RACIST PEOPLE>
THE REASON WHY WOMEN HAVE SUFFERED LONGER THEN MEN IS BECAUSE MEN ARE USING WOMEN AND ABUSING THEM AS TOOLS AND PROPERTY WHICH THEY AREN’T DURING WWll WOMEN WERE USED EVERYDAY BY EVIL MEN FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO HAVE SEX WITH THEIR WIVES AND MUSILM WOMEN ARE BEING RAPED, WOMEN CHILDREN ARW BEING RAPED EVERYDAY WHILE YOU FUCKING TURDS OF HUMAN SHIT ARE MAKING JOKES OF ISSUES THAT NEED TO STOP SO STO WITH THE HOMOPHOBIA, ISLAMPHOBIA, BIPHOBIA AND ALL THE OTHER PHOBIAS MAKE SEXUAL HARASSMENT, ASSAULT AND RAPE VICTIMS VOICES HEARD WE WILL NOT STAY SILENT BECAUSE OF THIS SHITTY APP! ALSO GOD CREATED WOMEN EQUALY AS MEN DO NOT MISTREAT YOUE SISTERS, MOTHERS, AUNGS, MOTHER IN LAWS HOPE ALL YOU RAPISTS SEXUAL ABUSERS, SEXUAL ASSAULTERS ROT IN HELL WHERE YOU DESERVE TO BE NOT IN THIS COUNTRY OR ANY OTHER PLACE HELL IS WHERE YOU BELONG 😡🤬🖕🏻🖕🏼🖕🏽🖕🏾🖕🏿
What do u call the most fucking racist and obnoxious country in the fucking entire fucking omniverse? NORTH AMERICA AND IF U DISAGREE JUST CUS UR AMERICAN I DON'T GIVE A FUCK U LOW LIFE CUNTS, plus if u don't think ur racist um hello people? Motherfucking George Floyd
if humanity were to nominate the gayest country in the world it would be tel aviv honestly
Which country makes me crack the fuck up?
LAUGHghanistan
Which country of the world has the poorest/most hungry people?
Ans.: Hungary
For centuries, Japan’s feudal dictators, called Shoguns, enforced strict laws that kept people from leaving or entering the country. This practice isolated Japan from the rest of the world. By the middle of the 19th century, Japan’s isolationism was creating problems for the United States’ whaling industry whose ships needed coal, food, and water available in Japanese ports. And sailors who were shipwrecked on the coast of Japan needed protection from mistreatment. In November 1852, President Millard Fillmore sent an expedition to Japan to solve these problems. Led by Commodore Matthew C. Perry, the the expedition had both steam-powered and sail-powered warships and several hundred men. Perry’s task was to persuade the Japanese to sign a treaty with the United States that would open Japanese ports and protect shipwrecked sailors. On July 8, 1853, the Perry expedition sailed into Edo Bay about thirty miles from the city of Edo (modern Tokyo). During talks with the Shogun’s representatives, the idea of a treaty was repeatedly rejected. But Perry didn’t give up. Finally, in February 1854, the Japanese agreed to negotiate a treaty. The Treaty of Kanagawa established peace between the two countries, opened two ports to U.S. shipping, and protected shipwrecked sailors. It was signed on March 31, 1854. Perry’s expedition also opened Japan to the rest of the world. Within two years, Japan signed similar treaties with Russia, Holland, and Britain.
One day the Pope is coming to America in his Limo and he said to the driver, „Why don’t you let me drive for ones.“ The driver thinks to him self, „Well I can’t say no to this guy, he’s the pope.“ So the driver pulls over and they change places. The Pope was having fun, hauling butt down the freeway, dogging cars. After a while the driver taps on the window and tells the Pope, „slow down a bit, you might get pulled over.“ The Pope says, „Ahhh, don’t worry about it, I’m the Pope.“ So he rolls up the window and continues to drive very fast. After a few moments he gets pulled over. The cop walks to the car and the Pope rolls down the tinted window. The cop sees the Pope and says, „Oh, I, ehhh, sorry, can you hold on a minute.“ The Pope says, „Sure.“ The cop walks back to his car and radios back to the station. He says, „Guys I just pulled over some one really important.“
They ask who, „The President?.“ „No more important.“ „The president of another country.“ „No more important.“ „An ambassador.“ „No even more important.“ „Well who is it.“ „I don’t know, but the Pope is the chauffeur.“
1. Full name: John 2. Proverb: work is not a rabbit, does not run. 3. Favorite meal: the sphinx with the sour cream. 4. Sexual orientation: sexually disorientated. 5. Mental health: mentally retarded. 6. Previous careers: funeral undertaking, after that two years in the circus as the main brown bear, after that in the church school for two years, after this experience five years as a screw in the jail for the worst criminals with the top degree of supervision and now working for the secret services in my home country after gaining the top-secret audit. 7. Favorite pets: dog, bumble bee named Maxo, a butterfly named as Redwing and the lizard named as Notail 8. Favorite activities: washing the dishes, cutting the woods, vacuuming and playing hard rock. 9. Working motivation: none.
I hope that you will accept my curriculum vitae and that we will see each other soon already as new colleagues, I wish more or less. Kind regards, John
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in
There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle.
“BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!”
This city slicker broke down on a country road, he look around and in the distance he spotted a farm house. When he finally got there he asked the farmer if he has a phone he could use because his had no reception. The farmer told him he could use it if he married his daughter. The guy said he really didn’t wanna get married and the farmer said if you marry my daughter I’ll give you half my farm...the guy said lemme see her...the farmer hollered “hey you” get over here...and she said duh ok. The ol boy looked at her and said nooo thank you. The father said I’ll give you all my farm and my bank account if you’ll marry my daughter....the ol boy thought for a minute and said “we’ll I guess I can put a sack over her head” So they married and the farmer kept his word and gave him everything. One day the guy was up fixin the roof and Holland hey you get me some nails...his wife said duh nails, nails he said yes nails and showed her one she said “oh dun nails nails” he said yes nails. So she got him some. He was hammering away when he hit his thumb and he yells oh F. . . It! and she turned and Hollered Duh A Sack A Sack Duh A Sack!
