My friend: Ess, stop with the self-harm jokes it's not funny Me: C'mon it's not that deep
Why did the blind man fall down the well?
He couldn't see that well.
Person 1: stop making suicidal jokes!? Person 2: okay okay, I’ll cut it out. Person 1: really? Person 2: their not even that deep.
Apparently rock bottom has a basement.... :\
My heart says to stop because it hurts Bro chill its really not that deep
How do you drown a blonde? You tape a mirror to the bottom of a 13 foot deep pool.
My mom tells me to stop with the suicide jokes and I replied with its not that deep
Why did the ocean break up with the pond?
Because the pond was to shallow
I like my women like I like my diving pools. Wet and deep.
A guy and girl had sex poem competition. Guy: "Two times two is four, four plus five is nine. I can put mine in yours, but you can't put yours in mine." Girl: "Two times two is four, four plus five is nine. I know the length of yours, but you won't know the depth of mine."
for every blonde in the world
Scratch and sniff at the bottom of the pool
I've seen more depth in a kiddie pool than in BLESSEDBRIAN’S jokes
What is the biggest butt in the world?
The bottom of the ocean
r u a toaster? cuz i wanna take a bath wit u r u a knife? cuz u make me wanna kms r u a painting? cuz i hang u r u the flu? cuz u make me wanna hurl r u a newspaper? cuz u have new problems everyday r u the ground? cuz im six feet deep in u ;)
Hi there! My name is Michael Grover, and I am an explorer. Ever since I’ve been little, I’ve loved searching for new things. As a baby, my parents kept finding me in nooks and crannies around the house. “On the search” as they would say. By the age of 5, I had been to every continent on the planet, barring Antarctica. For my 12th birthday, my parents got me diving lessons, and by the time I was 13, I could scuba dive to a depth of 40 meters, as well as go cave diving. I got a pilot’s license by the age of 17, and I learned to sail just before my 18th birthday. Instead of going to university, I decided to travel around South America, exploring its rich jungles and beautiful landscapes. During my trip, I met my now wife who was also an explorer. For our honeymoon, we sailed around the Caribbean and we discovered 3 new islands which we named after the cats that I had growing up. Over the course of my life, I have come across great treasures and wondrous experiences. But in all my life, and in all my travels, I’m afraid I have never come across a single person who cared about what you just said.
Orphan: my mommy and daddy love me. Guy: were are they then? Orphan: in the eternal depths of
In the heart of a circular, creamy delight, there exists a void, a singular absence that adds to its charm. This hollow space, a perfect round, is a testament to the artistry of nature and man's culinary skills. The hole, a silent observer, bears witness to the transformation of the substance around it, from a liquid state to a firm, yet supple form. It's a silent testament to the passage of time, a symbol of patience and the magic of fermentation. The void, despite its emptiness, contributes to the overall aesthetic, making the slice a visual treat. It's a playful peek-a-boo with the world beyond, a window that adds mystery and intrigue. In the end, the hole is not just a void, but a character in the story of this culinary masterpiece, a silent protagonist that adds depth and character to the narrative. It's a testament to the beauty of imperfection, a celebration of the unique and the unconventional.
Ok boys are known to measure there dicks but do girls measure there depths?????
Fork pierces the flesh Guided by hunger's demand Savoury feast waits
Tines dig deep within Seeking the sustenance craved A mealtime delight
Belly grumbles loud Yearning for nourishment's touch Fork answers the call
Food on the platter Fork dances with anticipation To satiate hunger's plea
Digestion begins Fork's journey now complete Nourishing the soul
Why does the fork go? To bring joy to empty hearts Satiating needs
In the stomach's depths Fork finds purpose and solace A culinary bond
With each mealtime tale The fork carves memories deep In stomachs it rests
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.
