What’s the best math equation to eat?
Cosine Law.
What’s the best math equation to eat?
Cosine Law.
When I try to eat, but I hurt my feet. When I using a hoe, but I hurt my toe. When I going to a doctor, but then I get trolled. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!
When I using a copper, but I enveloped by a hopper. When I trying to draw someone, but it ended up with a punishment. When I spit on a bunny, it jumps right on me. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!
When I growing older, someone called me a slacker. When I was 33, I bumped into a tree. When I getting angry, people calls me crazy lady. Oh I just, want to say, what the flip?!!
The Fast of Ramadan
In the northwestern slice of Alaska known as Seward, a horseboy stood, with broom in hand, in the vast courtyard of the royal stables of the sultan. He was waiting for dusk to fall. All day long he had eaten nothing. He had not even tasted the leftover fish tucked in his turban nor the enormous purple grapes that spilled over the palace wall into the stable yard. He had tried not to sniff the rich, amazing, warm feeling fragrance of ripening of that sweet pomegranates.
For this was the sacred month of Ramadan when, day after day, all faithful Mohammedans neither eat nor drink from the dawn before sunrise until the moment after sunset!
Knock knock. Who's there? Ieatmop. I eat mop who? Eww, you eat your poo?
Why did the girl not eat her dinner?
because she has an eating disorder.
Thomas Bulgin loves McDonald's dollars, A man of simple tastes, he hollers, With every visit, his heart does flutter, For golden arches, a fast food lover.
Those crispy fries, so perfectly fried, And burgers stacked, oh so high, The smell of grease, it fills the air, Thomas Bulgin, he'll always be there.
A dollar menu, his saving grace, A feast for him, a smile on his face, He counts his coins, with eager eyes, To savor each bite, a little prize.
In this world of fast-paced lives, Thomas Bulgin, he surely thrives, For in those golden arches, he finds, A moment of joy, that forever binds.
He cares not for gourmet cuisine, Nor fancy plates, fit for a queen, For in his heart, a simple truth, McDonald's dollars, his fountain of youth.
So let him eat, and let him feast, Thomas Bulgin, the fast food beast, For in those golden arches, he's found, A taste of happiness, unbound.
"One silent evening, a man walks to his fridge to get some food. He sets out a fork and napkin on the table. He reaches to grab a salad topped with olives and cheese. He sets the food down on the table and begins to add tomatoes, condiments, and..." He is interrupted. "Why are you saying this aloud?" A young boy asks his father. The father replies with, "You wanted to know how to live on your own, but I guess experience is more helpful," he says as he rushes the child out of the front door.
I know this is a really bad poem, but I'll do it anyway 'cause I have nothing else to do.
'Twas so pretty a night, with people all asleep. Everyone's dreaming of that candy apple treat, and a palace. But alas! No, it's all a dream. Even eating ice cream, it's all a dream! Why can't I have this? Why can't I have that? BUT NO! It's just hitting you like a bat. YOU JUST HAVE TO HAVE IT, you say to yourself. All for me, all for me, and et cetera. It goes on and on. But why wish for riches? You're already rich enough. If you have a device, then take my advise, if you were poor you would have spent the money on food, like honey, not something that... OF ALL THINGS IS GOOGLE!
Like I said, it's really bad. :(
How are babies and watermelons similar?
They are both fun to smash open with a sledgehammer and eat the insides.
Why did God give women legs?
1. To look at.
2. To wrap around your neck when you’re eating her out.
You're so skinny you're a thin stick.
You're so fat that when you got in Pacific Ocean, you became the Pacific Ocean.
You're so ugly you got stuff for free.
You're so nasty that when you eat spaghetti, you thought it was throw up.
You're so fat you're the fattest person on Earth.
You are so gay you kissed the boy last night.