Dream jokes
I told a diabetic boy to have sweet dreams, and he died the next morning.
Dream tweeted, and I quote, "Babies kick pregnant women all the time, but I do it one time and I’m the one arrested."
One time in my dream, I had a dream that all people in wheelchairs could walk. It was awesome; I could walk!
What shows do orphans dream of?
Full House or Fuller House.
Me: I have a dream.
Mom: What?
Me: For you to fucking shut up.
Are you an abstract manifestation of my childhood traumas and recent memories combined? 'Cause damn, you look like you came out of a dream!
"Dream, yo mama so ugly, when she went in the bathtub, the water jumped out!"
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.
"Mommy, Mommy! Are we going to live forever?"
"Only in your dreams."
Roses are red, Violets are blue, In your eyes' reflection, My dreams come true.
Falco: Dreaming of a day when I don’t hear people say I’m a knockoff Fox, knockoff Fox.
Fox: Dreaming of a day when you die in a fire and I get all your aerial skills.
Falco: Wat…
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.
His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.
A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.
No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.
In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.
With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.
The Eagles when they actually thought they were gonna win the Super Bowl. 😹
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.
"Just killed a woman, feeling good."
- Tommyinnit
What do you call a fake speedrunner?
Dream.
What is an orphan's dream?
To get on top of the wanted list! 🤣
When Caesar’s wife told him she dreamed he should beware the Ides of March, he scoffed and said, “What? It’s not like I’m gonna be stabbed 23 times by my best buddies!”
When you fall asleep on the couch and wake up in your bed.
But you know you live alone.
It was an important knockout game for Al Nassr. I came to Riyad to see my idol Cristiano Ronaldo play. It was my dream for a long time. I took a cab to the stadium, but the driver dropped me off at a haunted house instead.
As soon as I entered the house, I saw a ghost, but the very next moment I realized it's my idolo Ronaldo. Thank you Ronaldo for meeting me!