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Why don't rappers ever get lost?

Because they always find their way with their flow.

Why can't a woman find a glory hole inside of the lady's room?

Because piss comes out of a woman's pussy.

You can find perfectly cooked Kobe in a Japanese restaurant, but you can only find burnt Kobe in Calabasas.

Did you know Disney is making a movie for suicidal people?

They're calling it Finding Emo.

Why did the rapper bring a map to the concert?

To find his way to the top of the CHARTS.

My friend's dad went to jail. He's just surprised because he can finally find him!

A Canadian, an American, and a Mexican were tasked by a billionaire with teaching his stubborn pet parrot how to speak within 2 weeks.

They were given everything they needed to succeed, and a large sum of money was offered to the one who made the parrot talk first.

The Canadian played documentaries for the parrot through the whole duration. He spent all his time citing the alphabet and reading stories for the parrot.

The American showered him with the finest food, brought him all the females that he can mate with, and made sure to spoil the parrot as much as he can.

The Mexican locked the parrot in a dark room, barely gave him any food or water, and beat the shit out of him every single day.

When the time was up, the billionaire returned to find the parrot still unable to speak, so he asked the 3 trainers about their progress.

The Canadian goes: "I have tried everything. I spent all my time and energy teaching him the alphabet and reading books to him! Nothing worked."

The American agrees: "I have spoiled him beyond belief, gave him all the luxury he can possibly get, and yet he won't speak!"

The Mexican confirms: "I have showered him with love and luxury as well, tried to teach him words day and night, spent all my time and energy spoiling him with everything I had!"

The parrot looks at the Mexican with disbelief and yells out: "You lying motherfucker!"

Dolly Parton and Queen Elizabeth went to the Pearly Gates on the same day.

They both met with an Angel to find out if they would be admitted to Heaven.

The angel said, "Unfortunately, there's only one space in Heaven today, so I must decide which one of you will be admitted."

The Angel asked Dolly if there was some particular reason why she should go to Heaven.

Dolly took off her top and said, "Look at these, they're the most perfect breasts God ever created, and I'm sure it will please God to be able to see them every day, for eternity."

The Angel thanked Dolly and asked Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, the same question.

The Queen walked over to a toilet, pulled the lever, and flushed it without saying a word.

The Angel immediately said, "OK, your Majesty, you may go into Heaven."

Dolly was outraged and asked, "What was that all about? I showed you two of God's own perfect creations, and you turned me down. She simply flushed a commode, and she got admitted to Heaven! Would you explain that to me?"

"Sorry, Dolly," said the Angel, "but even in Heaven, a royal flush beats a pair - no matter how big they are."

In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.

"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.

In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.

But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.

So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.

And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.

In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.

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.

In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.

It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.

It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.

This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.

So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat.

With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.

Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see.

Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.

Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires.

They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.

Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air.

Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.

Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas.

In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.

And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star.

Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.

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.