Existence jokes

Yourself.

If you read this, your life is a joke.

What do you call a dead human?

A DEAD HUMAN! HAHAHahahah ha.. ha.. ha Am I the only one laughing?

What's the only gun that doesn't exist in Africa? The water gun.

Life sucks, and so does the vacuum, and other things.

I will tell you a joke--your life.

Wow, this group is a joke, like my life.

What is the difference between a human and a human?

"Morbidity, the story of my life in one joke."

Wanna hear a joke?

My life.

Wanna hear a funny joke?

My life.

Caley's life.

Lachlan's life.

My life, get it, 'cause I don't got one.

Yo life.

Once I was 7.

A boy asked his dad: "Why didn’t you make love with my mom, Daddy?"

Dad: "Because I’m gay."

*Son started making out with his daddy and sucking his daddy’s big peepee.*

Son: "W- Wait a minute. So how did I exist if you didn’t make love with my mom if you’re not straight?"

Dad: "Because you are not real, and I didn’t even have a wife."

The son woke up from his horrible nightmare, and he looked so scared. He did leave his bed to check out his dad, but he didn’t find his dad, until his dad entered the house, and he said to his son: "Why did you look so worried? I’m just bringing some food for breakfast."

Son: "Well, but why are your hands full of cum ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ?"

Dad: "Because I did it with you last night. Did you forget?"

Son: "But it was a nightmare..."

*Dad turns into a monster*

Dad: "I’m your nightmare!"

The son woke up, and he seemed too scared, and he found himself beside his dad torturing him after he discovered he’s gay.

The son with himself: "Wake up, b*tch, wake up, b*tch!!!!!!"

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

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.

You are the reason why child abortion still exists in the world.

Your hairline is like Mr. Clean's... nonexistent!