Every jokes
Today was like every other day. It was so terribly long and so terribly dreary. I fear these feelings will never end. I’ll always feel so dark, feel so hopeless. Sometimes all I want is for it to end. For all of it to end, for all of my thoughts to end. I despise the way that always comes to mind. But I feel so lost, feel so hopeless. If something would just work. But nothing has worked. Nothing can fix this. These feelings will pass. These days won't feel so endless... or so absolutely heavy. Just give it some time. Just give it some hope... and some belief. The ‘happy pills’ will work. The doctor says they'll help... they'll help it go away. Just dump the pill in your hand. Let yourself place the little white thing on your tongue... Let yourself throw your head back and swallow. It'll make this better. It should make me feel better.
Everything has changed! The world is so bright— The world is so loud! I don’t know how I never noticed! The sun is so warm— The grass is so green! I feel so awake! I feel so content— I feel so happy! It’s so strange! I’m not anxious— I’m not overthinking! I guess those pills really worked! I think I’m really getting better— I think I’m really going to be happy!
Are you a lollipop? Because I can suck on you all day.
Are you an Oreo? Because I eat the cream first.
Are you a microwave? Because I’m trying to keep you quiet at 3:00 am.
Are you a sprinkler? Cause every time I see you I get wet.
Are you makeup? Cause I’d spend hours doing you.
Are you a guitar? Because I’d love to hear the noises you make when I play with you.
Are you an elevator? Cause I wanna ride you up and down.
Most restaurants are closed at night, but your legs aren’t.
I’m not a cashier, but you got a couple of things I wanna check out.
Are you Cinderella? Because I can see that dress coming off at midnight.
Are you a calendar? Because I want to pin you against the wall.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but I hope it’s you.
Are you a doughnut? Cause I wanna fill you with cream.
Are you a garden? Cause I want to plant some seeds inside of you.
Do you sing in the shower? Because if so, I need a private ticket of your concert.
Are your legs the twin towers? Because I’ll bomb what’s in between.
Are you a blanket? Because you’re on top of me every night.
Are you a phone? Cause I like to be on you 24/7.
Are you a roller coaster? Because the faster you go, the louder I scream.
I’m so jealous of your heart right now because it’s pounding inside of you and I’m not.
Are you a popsicle? Cause all I want to do is lick you up and down.
Are you a construction worker? Because you got me all bricked up.
Are you a fireman? Because you came in hot and left me wet.
A man needs to leave for a lengthy business trip, but his wife is saddened by this. She explains to him that if he isn’t home every night, there will be no way to satisfy herself if she feels horny. The man claims that she doesn’t need sex, because a dildo should work just fine.
He quickly runs to the local gift shop and asks the cashier if the store carries anything really special. The cashier quietly pulls out an old box and removes a wooden penis from inside. The cashier states that the dildo has been passed down in his family for generations and was crafted by a witch deep within the Amazon jungle. The cashier sits up in his chair and shouts, “Voodoo Dick, the door!”
The wooden penis flies across the room and begins to rapidly thrust itself in and out of the front door keyhole. “Voodoo Dick, the lamp!” The wooden penis flies up inside of the lamp on the cashier’s desk and, once again, begins to thrust in and out. “Voodoo Dick, return to your box!” The wooden penis flies back into the box, and the cashier closes the lid.
The man chooses to buy the wooden penis, and just as he is about to leave, the cashier tells him a very important bit of information regarding the Voodoo Dick: “The cursed dildo can only be controlled through verbal commands, it is far too powerful to be moved by hand,” says the cashier. “You must never forget that!”
The man nods and heads home.
Later that day, the man explains to his wife how the sex toy works, and then leaves for his trip.
A few days later, the wife becomes very horny and opens up the box. She proceeds to shout, “Voodoo Dick, my pussy!” The dildo zooms into her vagina and pleasures her for roughly 6-8 hours. She soon begins to grow tired and attempts to pull the dildo out of her. She pulls as hard as she can but just can’t get it out. The wife panics and begins driving to the hospital with the wooden penis still inside of her vagina. A police officer pulls her over for speeding and asks to see some identification. The wife exclaims, “Help, help, there is a Voodoo Dick inside of my vagina and it won’t come out!”
The officer raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Voodoo Dick my ass, bitch.”
The first time you have a new phone, you have a different one. You can change your phone to a new phone, but it doesn’t change the phone, it’s just different. I think it will work. I just think it would look good, and then it would work, but you don’t know if it’s the right thing for the new one. You just know it’s the wrong. It’s a bad phone. It’s a new thing. It’s the same for different every day, but it doesn’t look, and I think so it’s not a good, but it works, so it’s different, so it’s different for the new phone, and it doesn’t have to work on it. It doesn’t matter to the same for you know it’s just the one but it doesn’t have the one that I can do a lot better and I can just use my new one, but it is not that the new iPhone, so you have the one that’s the other is that I have the same thing and it’s the same phone, but I have to get the new iPhone. I just want it and then you have a good and it’s a different number so it’s just like so it’s just one, but you know it’s not like I have the new iPhone so you know it’s just one so it’s a little more than just the one and it will get the new phone so it’s just easier and cheaper for the money but it won’t cost much more to pay off your car than to get the phone for the next two weeks weeks or even two years to to have the car car fixed so it’s easier and quicker and I will be happy I’m happy happy I’m so excited excited thank y all and I will talk soon and have you have an update as to the results soon thank ya again so far hope all goes all are good hope to be in your class today love and have you been in your dreams hope all your day too bye.
Shit, if somebody invades America, the Crips and the Bloods are gonna call a truce so that they can get the big toys out and call Geneva achievement. White women would ride into battle riding lions, tigers, and bears while claymore-strapped rhumbas swept the streets. There's a reason Putin keeps threatening to boom boom us with the boom booms and make you see x-rays before you go go.
We have freaking cannibals still. Hell, we have more guns than people. Dodging bullets has become a rite of passage. Just look at how we raise our kids on caffeine and M16s playing Call of Duty. Then we send them into the warzone known as the American public education system with no weapons. No means to protect themselves other than with their fists. Here Timmy, fight off the bullets with your bare fist and hope you can zig-zag. Hell, the quiet kids in this country start dropping bodies just cause you teased them. The fuck you think's gonna happen when Timmy can't get his damn chicken nuggets and you took his internet out?
Hell, the gangs in America would no longer make their money off the drugs illegally. They'd be our medics and taking bets on kill shots. Don't even get me started on the unhinged millennials the moment they can't get their mood stabilizers. War crimes would become an art form and we'd run around like we playing Pokemon. GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL! Americans would turn war crimes into an extreme sport while the military stands back and records it just so they can show the rest of the world the example of why not to fuck with us. Shit, Geneva Convention would turn into a to-do list on every American household fridge. We take that shit so seriously we'd have Comedy Central sending Kevin Hart to tell us rules for engagement. Racism in America would be single-handedly by ended as Billy Bob and Tyrone high five because they think they just unlocked the super secret duck hunt level with foreign paratroopers. Shit somebody please threaten us with a good time. Invade the United States. Let us show you why the first color in our flag is red.
Yeah
I can't help myself I put it down on paper All the different stages, memories of us That's the only way I know that I can shake it Writing all our pages, every single thought I know you don't like when I'm nostalgic No, you've never tried to understand Say you're doing fine, don't think about it Like I do.
Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to
I can't wait for you to recognize the stories Like when you said i was beautiful Will you act as if you haven't even heard it? Nothing of it really matters 'Cause I know you don't like when I'm nostalgic Go back to the start to get an end Say you're doing fine, don't think about it Like I do.
Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to
Just to get over what we lost, what we lost I put it in words to clear my thoughts And just to get over, over us I had to, I had to
Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to
sorry kenny?!
Three men are working on a building site.
Every day, they sit down to eat their lunch together at the top of the building.
The first man opens his lunchbox to reveal a ham sandwich.
"By god," the man exclaims, "I hate ham sandwiches. I’ve been working in construction for twenty years, and every day, despite me telling her how much I despise it, my wife gives me a ham sandwich. If I get a ham sandwich in my lunch again, I will throw myself off the top of this building and kill myself."
The second man opens his lunchbox, revealing a cheese sandwich.
"Holy crow, another cheese sandwich! I hate these things, I tell you. Every day, I tell my wife how much I despise cheese sandwiches, but I still get them in my lunch. I’m with you buddy—if I ever get a cheese sandwich in my lunch again, I’m killing myself."
The third man, having opened his lunchbox, now pipes in.
"I don’t believe it—another tuna sandwich! If I had a penny for every time I’ve told my wife how much I hate these, I wouldn’t have to work on this sordid site no more! I’m sick of it—count me in, if I get a tuna sandwich in my lunchbox again, I’m killing myself."
The next day, the three men regroup at the top of the building and open their lunchboxes: the first man – a ham sandwich, the second – a cheese sandwich, the third – a tuna sandwich.
The three men exchange solemn looks before jumping in unison from the height of the building.
At the funeral for the three men, their grieving wives turn to each other.
"If only I’d known how much he didn’t like ham sandwiches," says the first man’s wife, "I always thought he was being ironic!"
"And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like cheese sandwiches," says the second man’s wife, "I always thought he was being sarcastic!"
"And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like tuna sandwiches," says the third man’s wife, "but I don’t know what good it would have done—the fool made his own lunch!"
Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin', doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom You know we straight with doin' your mom I like your mama's big butt, and I cannot lie. You other brothers can’t deny that she’s fly. We make sexy time, yes and every night I tap that. She saw me butt-naked, now she thinks I’m half black. But your moms the best, the super M.I.L.F. Cause she loves to toss the salad even though she ain’t a chef And I blame it on the al-al-al-cohol But if I were you, I wouldn’t kiss your mom on the mouth at all. She likes the Donkey-Punch. She likes the Dirty Sanchez. Sometimes she even likes to fool around in your bed. She likes rough sex with handcuffs and I’ll be honest She likes me to Chris Brown her when she acts like Rihanna. She’s so therapeutic. When I need to cure my restlessness I br-br-br-br-br-br-br-br motorboat your moms breastestess. I didn’t wanna tell you, but I had to write this song Cause I’m in your house every night doin' your mo-om.
Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin', doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom You know we straight with doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin', doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom You know we straight with doin' your mom
I’m havin' sex with your mother That makes me better than you. I’m havin' sex with your mother That makes me better than you.
Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin', doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom You know we straight with doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom Doin', doin' your mom, doin', doin' your mom You know we straight with doin' your mom
Momma's House-By-watersharky Productions and Dustin Lynch- I see your face on every street, every corner, couple trees. Even got her name on 'em. I feel your love, I hear your laugh, got them take me way on back. Hurt me memories, I don't want 'em. Up and down the boulevard. In and out of every bar. I'd burn this whole town down. Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground. Baby, I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house. Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that? Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass. I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house. I would start it where we started, at the downtown party Where you kissed my lips and stole my beer. The city park in the dark where we looked up at the stars Watched them fireworks pop last year. It started under that Texaco sign where you said goodbye I'd get some gas and drop a match right there. I'd burn this whole town down. Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground. Baby, I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house. Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that? Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass. I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house. Fire red flames, sunsets in the sky Going out, staying in, staying up long nights. Now I'm waking up alone, wishing I could move on Blocked your number in my phone, thought it help but it don't. I'd burn this whole town down. Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground. Baby, I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house. Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that? Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass. I'd burn this whole town down. If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house.
31. During a recent password audit, it was found that a blonde was using the following password: "MickeyMinniePlutoHueyLouieDeweyDonaldGoofySacramento".
When asked why such a long password, she said she was told that it had to be at least 8 characters long and include at least one capital.
32. Two crows were in a field when they noticed a figure that looked like a man in the distance.
"See that over there? What is that?", says the first crow.
The second crow takes a long look, "That's a scarecrow. Looks authentic, doesn't it."
"How can you tell it's a scarecrow and not a person?", replies the first crow.
"Look at its hand. No cellphone", says the second crow.
33. Three friends stranded on a deserted island find a magic lamp. Inside it is a genie who agrees to grant each friend one wish.
“I want to go home,” says the first friend. The genie grants her wish.
“I want to go home, too,” says the second friend. And the genie sends him back home.
“I’m lonely,” says the third friend. “I sure wish my friends were back here.”
34. A cruise ship passes by a remote island, and all the passengers see a bearded man running around and waving his arms wildly.
“Captain,” one passenger asks, “who is that man over there?”
“I have no idea,” the captain says, “but he goes nuts every year when we pass him.”
35. After Sunday church, the priest would hand us each an orange and a big cookie. A little girl once lied and took two oranges, but the priest told her she mustn't lie because God is watching. Then, the girl took two cookies and lied about it. When asked why she had done that, she said because she thought that God was only watching oranges.
36. I was in my garden when I got the news that my father had fallen from a 20 feet ladder and was in the hospital. I rushed to the hospital expecting that my father had some major fractures, but he was alright except for some minor cuts. When I told him that it was a miracle, he disagreed and told me, "Son, I had just fallen from the first step of the ladder."
I'm just gonna say it, and don't get offended, but I'm so sick of the media being on the female side. It never shows what life is like for a male.
Yes, women do have it hard in life because they have to give birth, etc.
But men have it pretty hard too, if not harder. Males are criticized for showing emotions.
Men have to go to war on the front lines.
Boys have less support from their friends because showing any emotion is a sign of weakness.
Boys have to wear trousers in schools where they practically burn to death in summer, meanwhile girls get to wear dresses and skirts. And now we hear girls complaining about them not being allowed to wear trousers. Yet we haven't ever heard anything about boys protesting about wearing shorts to school. It's because no one will take a man's protest seriously because the media is always against the men.
Man-rape is unheard of in the media, and I've never seen anything in any form of news accusing a woman as a rapist.
We are expected to gather up our guts [and] ask a girl to be their girlfriend. We have to take them on dates, pay the bill, [and] buy them gifts when the girls never do anything like that for us males. We have to get a job while they put on makeup and go out with their friends and spend 3 months' worth of the money the man has made.
And the women say we only rape women and that we restrict women from doing certain things like fighting in world wars.
It's because most males do not want females to get hurt, yet we are criticized for this.
I propose an idea that on the 19th of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work, etc.
Who's going to put out all the fires? The two "firewomen" at the local fire station? Who is going to work in the major corporations? The secretary's and the receptionist?
Women are always saying that the world will be a better place if they're are no men around. Let's show them how wrong they are.
(This event can be done worldwide.)
Share this with as many people who still believe in the rights of the males.
(I'm not against feminism; it's just that everything in the media is about some stupid problem women are complaining about + hatred for males everywhere.
But I think that nowadays women have more rights than men because they can wear what they want, do what they want, and never get criticized or face any consequences.)
Can't anyone relate to this? BEAT WATERSHARKY!!! -Oops!-By- Air Attack Productions and Yung Gravy-Ayy, supercalifragilisticexpiali dope shit Supercalifragi lick my ex be on some ho shit Superman, I get dem bands but ain't gon' buy you roses Super-duper get them cougars, took my wrist and froze it Super-duper hoes Y'all got Oompa Loompa hoes I ain't never knew ya hoes Prolly still ran through 'em, though.
Oh, wait, wait, I, I do know your ho? You talkin' 'bout, you talkin' 'bout Tracy? Nah, you mean like, like, Tracy with the ass? Tracy with the, with the Honda? Shit, well.
Oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby. Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby.
Lil' bitch, I'm happy and I know it so I clap them fuckin' cheeks, yeah I'm happy and I show it to your momma in the sheets And I'm happy she's a freak ho, happy so my teeth glow Yeah, my bitch elite, I be clapping every week My neck, my back, got your momma on my sack My checks, my racks, it's the return of the motherfuckin' mack And I stay with the pack, though. Clap, clap, then I'm out the backdoor. Lil' Pillsbury, I stack dough. Walkin' with a limp, like a crack ho.
Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the Coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby. Yeah, I said oops, baby. Fuck up on your bitch, like oopsy daisy. Never knew that was your boo, baby. Hit her five times in the Coupe, Mercedes, whoopsie daisy. Oops, baby. Gravy hit my bitch, yeah, whoopsie daisy. I just tryna hit, it's my duty, baby. Sippin' on the goose, like Boosie, baby.
The Yo Mama song to end all yo mama jokes.
If you know what song this is parodying, you get a cookie.
Well, it’s a oooh, yo mama.
Ohhh, Yo Mama.
oh wop oh wop...YO MAMA!
Yo mama so fat, she gotta bathe in Sea World.
Well, it’s a oooh, yo mama.
Ohhhh, YO MAMA!
Oh woo ohhh, YO MAMA!
Yo mama so slow she took 9 months to get the joke.
Your own motheeer makes me giggle.
Her struggling to do taaaasks, see her belly wiggle.
HEY!
Yo mama so fat she on both sides o’the family.
Yo mama so inbred her own fam’ly tree
Looks like a spider web an’ yo mama so hairy
I thought it was King Kong I saw, that bitch is scary.
Yo mama so dumb a kid said “gimme a fag”
And in response she kidnapped Ricardo in a giant bag.
Yo mama so blind, she drove through puppies in a blunder
I swear I almost thought the driver was Stevie Wonder.
Yo mama so old, she’s nostalgic for the big bang.
Drier than Sahara, that crusty old thang.
Well, it’s a oooh, yo mama.
Ohhh, Yo Mama.
oh wop oh wop...YO MAMA!
Yo Mama so fat her picture still printing out.
Well, it’s a oooh, yo mama.
Ohhhh, YO MAMA!
Oh woo ohhh, YO MAMA!
Yo mama so ugly I thought you had two dads.
MMMMMMM
ahhhhhh
ohhhohoh
Your own motheeer, your own motheeeeer’s pussy is tight.
It’s not too dryyy or weeet it’s just right.
Hey Mama!
I fucked her so hard, the bitch done passed out
but not before I creamed all over her and shout
“I’M FUCKING THESE MOMS ALL THE WAY TO HEAVEN!
Don’t care if she’s 20 or 77!
I’m doing all the moms all over the worl’
Even if they weren’t ‘riginally born a girl.
A pussy’s a pussy no matter who its from
Don’t care if that woman is smart or dumb!”
That’s the truth there, baby! Even if
yo mama too stupid to tell apart her own kid
or if she’s so fugly, she’s the reason why
Helen Keller, poor soul, went deaf and blind.
I want to fuck every MILF on Earth
it don’t matter how much her ass is worth
or if she’s so poor, coal on Christmas is a treasure
Would I fuck her anyway? It would be my pleasure.
My body count so high can’t nobody top me
She said, “I’ll call you Freddie Mercury cause I want you to rock me.”
I said, “aiight bet! Can’t nobody stop me!”
Well, it’s a oooh, yo mama.
Ohhh, Yo Mama.
oh wop oh wop...YO MAMA!
But yo mama still so poor Africans donate to her!
So do you guys know those waterslides that you stand in, and then they suddenly drop you straight down onto the water slide? If not, look them up on YouTube, there's nothing like them.
Ah yes, the sweet memories of my first time on one of these. I feel that my mental/emotional scars have healed enough to tell this gem.
At the time my girlfriend, now Fiancée, worked as a photographer for one of those resorts with the indoor and outdoor water parks. One of her perks was that her and a family member/friend could get into the waterpark for free, so one hot summer day she had off and we both decided it'd be fun to go there and cool down for the day.
While we were there, I discovered one of there most "Thrilling" looking waterslides. Basically you stand in this tube, and then the slide operator presses a button and this slide drops you straight down a good 90 FEET, before you actually start going down the water slide. Me, being a thrill seeker, of course had to try it. So I made the great climb up to the top of the slide, stood in line, and finally it was my turn. Once I got in the tube, the operator told me to keep my legs crossed. Now I'm a pretty big heavy guy, so I was like "That's uncomfortable as fuck, I'm not doing that."
So there I was standing in the tube, having a panic attack from anticipation, with my legs not crossed. The operator finally presses the button, the bottom opens and I fall straight down the water slide. Very quickly I realized why they have you cross your legs. Water shot so far up my ass, so fast, I swear I tasted it in my mouth. My body raced down that slide, as I questioned every life choice that I have ever made.
Once I made it to the bottom, I sat there for a moment, absolutely violated. I felt like someone in an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I built up the courage to finally stand up, and all I could feel was the nice warm stream of water mixed with shit, and maybe a little bit of blood shoot out of my ass faster than the Steamboat Geyser at Yellowstone National Park. I quickly got off the slide and ran to the bathroom, with a trail of shitty water tailing me as the slide operator stared in awe. They had to shut down the slide for the rest of the day :'), but man was my asshole clean after that!
Moral of the story: Keep your damn legs crossed on waterslides.
Same thing goes when you are at bible study with a handsy priest.
As I’m lying down on the table for a radiation treatment, a small angel lands on one shoulder, a tiny devil on the other shoulder. And then the mind game begins:
Angel: This won’t last long. You are perfectly lined up. The treatment only lasts a few mins. Remember, stay absolutely still.
Devil: Did she just twitch?
Angel: No. She didn’t twitch.
Devil: I think I saw her finger twitch.
Angel: Well, even if it did, it’s her thigh the techs are aiming at.
Devil: She wants to scratch her face.
Angel: Stop it! She can handle staying still a few minutes.
Devil: But her cheek has an itchy spot.
Angel: She can just let it itch. She doesn’t need to scratch every itch. She will just have to think about something else.
Devil: Wow...that cheek is really itchy...
Angel: Think about: Flowers. Acrylic painting. Did the trash get picked up this morning? Her grandson Oliver’s smile...
Devil: How about a song?
Angel: Good idea!
Devil: How about... “Never going to give you up. Never going to let you down....”🎶
Angel: OMG! You just Rick-rolled her! She’s in the middle of a treatment! You know that’s the only part she knows!
Devil: That’s okay. She’ll just repeat the words she knows over and over and over and....
Angel: Don’t be so mean!
Devil: “Never going to give you up...🎶”
Angel: Stop it!
Devil: Her toe! Her big toe! Did you see that? She just twitched it!
Angel: No, she didn’t.
Devil: I bet it screwed up the test and they have to start over....
Angel: She didn’t screw anything up!
Devil: She totally screwed the test up and they were more than halfway done. If they start over at the beginning, she will get too much radiation, and they will end up slicing her whole leg off!
Angel: That’s not how it works...
Devil: Or they just stop all together and she only gets a partial treatment and her tumor won’t get enough radiation.
Angel: They know what they are doing!
Devil: ...And it won’t shrink the tumor and the whole thing fails. And the doctor will have to amputate her leg.
Angel: No! No! No! That’s not how any of this...
Devil: ...And when they amputate, it will be at the hip and not below the knee because the tumor is in her thigh.
Angel: Stop this right now!!
Devil: “Never going to give you up....🎶”
Angel: Stop!
Devil: “...never going let you down....🎶”
Angel: I’m not going to let you...
Devil: “Never going to give you up...🎶”
Techs: Okay. That’s it, Tammi! We are finished! How are you doing?
Tammi: ...Oh, I’m fine.....
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the chicken had 4 chicks and a cheating hen who all sucked out all his money he got from his extremely boring job, and he finally got some peace for himself and was going to the local bar, which was on the other side of the road.
He walked in the door, wings sagging, feathers catching on his claws. The bartender eyes him as he sits on a bar stool. "Chuck, how ya doin'? The missus doin' good?"
"Just give me the hardest stuff you got. I'm done."
This caught the bartender by surprise. "Chuck, come on, don't be sayin' that. Just look to the future and you'll be fine."
"What future?" Chuck replied in a huff. "My wife and chicks are so goddamn pestering sometimes, you know? But if I leave, they'll all suffer, and I don't want that either. Oh, God, Phil, I don't know what to do."
"You know, you've got a good heart for a rooster your age," Phil answered. "We need that in these parts. I'm tellin' ya, there will be more than what's happenin' right now, ya know, life's got all its gears turning for ya, and there's just a bit slow right now. The gears haven't been oiled in a while, but who's the only one who can fix that?"
Chuck knew the answer. "Me."
Phil returned with his drink. "McClucken's Whiskey, on the house."
Chuck glanced at his glass. He held it up to the light. His face reflected in an aura around it, neither looking forward to the light and not backward, either.
"No thanks, Phil," Chuck sighed, "But thanks anyways."
He went to get up out of his chair. Phil called as he walked out the door, "Just remember to oil the gears every now and then, eh?"
Chuck's comb flapped in a cool breeze brought in by the season. A bench was nearby, staring across to the other side. And he just sat there, sat there thinking. Cars blurred to a colorfully colorless nothingness as he thought in silence.
He could see an open window in his mind, full of chickens: a sassy hen, two identical sportish chick; another, older than the two, and body bristling with blue comb-dye and the latest thing he watched online fresh on his Chickstagram page; finally, the first of the bunch, shy, bookish, with a secretly courageous soul. They all looked... worried, worried for the rooster who guided them, helped them grow, supported them... and all looking out of the window back at him.
A single tear welled in Chuck's eye.
The chicken walked back across the road to his family, to his friends, and to the life he was content with.
Stressed Out - By - Twenty One Pilots and watersharky Music Productions - I wish I found some better sounds No one's ever heard. I wish I had a better voice That sang some better words. I wish I found some chords In an order that is new. I wish I didn't have to rhyme Every time I sang.
I was told when I get older All my fears would shrink. But now I'm insecure And I care what people think. My name's Blurryface and I care what you think. My name's Blurryface and I care what you think.
Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out We're stressed out
Sometimes a certain smell will Take me back to when I was young How come I'm never able to identify Where it's coming from? I'd make a candle out of it If I ever found it Try to sell it, never sell out of it I'd probably only sell one. It'd be to my brother, cause we have the same nose Same clothes, home grown The stone's throw from a creek we used to roam But it would remind us of when Nothing really mattered Out of student loans and tree house homes We all would take the latter My name's Blurryface and I care what you think My name's Blurryface and I care what you think
Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out
Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face singing "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship And then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face singing "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah
Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out
We used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship And then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face saying "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah
Chocolate rain. Some stay dry and others feel the pain. Chocolate rain. A baby born will die before the sin. Chocolate rain. The school books say it can't be here again. Chocolate rain. The prisons make you wonder where it went. Chocolate rain. Build a tent and say the world is dry. Chocolate rain. Zoom the camera out and see the lie. Chocolate rain. Forecast to be falling yesterday. Chocolate rain. Only in the past is what they say. Chocolate rain. Raised your neighborhood insurance rates. Chocolate rain. Makes us happy 'livin in a gate. Chocolate rain. Made me cross the street the other day. Chocolate rain. Made you turn your head the other way. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. Seldom mentioned on the radio. Chocolate rain. It's the fear your leaders call control. Chocolate rain. Worse than swearing worse than calling names. Chocolate rain. Say it publicly and you're insane. Chocolate rain. No one wants to hear about it now. Chocolate rain. Wish real hard it goes away somehow. Chocolate rain. Makes the best of friends begin to fight. Chocolate rain. But did they know each other in the light? Chocolate rain. Every February washed away. Chocolate rain. Stays behind as colors celebrate. Chocolate rain. The same crime has a higher price to pay. Chocolate rain. The judge and jury swear it's not the face. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. Dirty secrets of economy. Chocolate rain. Turns that body into GDP. Chocolate rain. The bell curve blames the baby's DNA. Chocolate rain. But test scores are how much the parents make. Chocolate rain. Flippin' cars in France the other night. Chocolate rain. Cleans the sewers out beneath Mumbai. Chocolate rain. 'Cross the world and back it's all the same. Chocolate rain. Angels cry and shake their heads in shame. Chocolate rain. Lifts the ark of paradise in sin. Chocolate rain. Which part do you think you're livin' in? Chocolate rain. More than marchin', more than passing law. Chocolate rain. Remake how we got to where we are. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again.
A politician dies. So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...
And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?
"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...
And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"
"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)