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.
Why did the ocean break up with the pond?
Because the pond was to shallow
My mom tells me to stop with the suicide jokes and I replied with its not that 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."
I like my women like I like my diving pools. Wet and deep.
for every blonde in the world
Scratch and sniff at the bottom of the pool
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.
I've seen more depth in a kiddie pool than in BLESSEDBRIAN’S jokes
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.
What is the biggest butt in the world?
The bottom of the ocean
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
Joshua White loves blue, A simple truth, tried and true. In his pocket, only six, Yet each penny a valued fix.
With eyes that seek the azure skies, He dreams of places that mesmerize. A palette of blues, a symphony of hues, Whispering secrets only he can choose.
His heart beats to the rhythm of the sea, Where waves crash, wild and free. In sandy shores, he finds solace rare, A momentary escape from life's daily wear.
In cerulean fields, flowers dance, Their vibrant petals, a timeless romance. He wanders through meadows, devoid of strife, Seeking solace in nature's vibrant life.
Joshua White, a soul of gentle grace, Embracing the world at his own pace. Though his pockets hold a mere six, His spirit soars, never to be fixed.
For in the depths of his azure dreams, The richness of life's tapestry gleams. And with every breath, he finds anew, That love is boundless, ever true.
In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.
Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.
Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.
Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.
Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.
So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.
