They say they'll stay but i left firstt
Knock knock Who's there? Di Di who? See, easily forgotten.
heyo my children hope you haven't forgotten about our cult!
John Cabot was the first to explore the Coast of Labrador. After he left, he realized that he had forgotten something and had to go back to get whatever it was. This made him the first Labrador Retriever.
Why are people acting like Kamala Harris is the first woman to obtain such a high ranking position in the US Government?
Have we all forgotten that Monica Lewinsky was directly under Bill Clinton?
Asian Grading scale A- Average B- Half Average C- Stupid idiot D- FAILURE! CANT EVEN DO CALCULUS! F- FORGOTTEN FAILURE! CANT EVEN GET A JOB AT A MCDONALDS!
an apple and a emo are at the top of a tree, they both fall at the same time who hit the ground first? the apple won because the emo had forgotten to connect the internet
Chinese takeout $15 . 00 gas to get there $1.50 . Getting home to find they,very forgotten one of your dishes RICELESS
I like my vegetables like I like my women Forgotten at the bottom of my freezer
A friend of mine told me this joke a long time ago and I never forgotten it... A worm was crawling over a train track, and a train ran over him and cut off his ass...the worm turned around to get the piece of his ass back & another train ran over him and cut off his head... BAD IDEA & a lesson to us all... NEVER LOSE YOUR HEAD OVER A PIECE OF ASS!! LMAO (literally, kind of)( pretty sure you get it)
A boy asked his dad for a some money to buy an ice-cream with. So he went to an icecream van. Whilst he was in the queue 2 boys asked him what flavour he was getting he told them strawberry. The two boys were shocked and beat him up. The icecream man felt bad and gave him his strawberry ice-cream for free. When he got home his dad also asked what flavour he bought the boy said strawberry. His dad then kicked him out of the house. The boy confused walked down the street and was stopped buy the police who were looking for a boy who had been eating strawberry ice-cream. The boy said thats me and the policeman arrested him. A week later in court the boy was on trial. The judge asked, ''can you tell me what were you doing on the fith of may''(the day he was arrested) the boy said I was eatimg ice-cream. Yhe judge decided he was innocent. On the way out the judge asked him what the flavour was (he had forgotten to ask during the trial). Of course he answered with strawberry the judge horrified realised he had given the wrong verdict and the boy should have been executed. Unfortunately he couldn't change what had happened so the boy walked out and crossed the road but was hit by a car and died. The moral of the story is look left and right before crossing the road
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.
There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle.
“BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!”
