Why do they call matches, matches?
They all look the same.
An LDS preacher knocks on the door with a chalice of wine offering to do the sacrement
The person living there points and says, "begone fowl blood-drinker"
And promptly the preacher bursts into flames leaving nothing but ash.
Why do candles đź•Ż like birthdays?
Because they can get lit.
therapist: and what is it about this generation that bothers you?
satan: i give them the intro tour and they just say shit like “ooo spooky lol”
therapist: that's not so bad
satan: when i showed one girl the pit of everlasting flame, she sighed and said “big mood”
FUCK FUCK FUCK MY CLOTHES CAUGHT THE FLAME OH MY GOD IT BURNS SO MUCH
Did you hear that nursing homes keep returning the new Paul Walkers?
They let the elderly move fast, but then burst into flames and burn the patients alive.
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
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..."
