Give jokes
Hey bro 😭🙏 I really gotta ask: why didn't you use Tiki Phonk this time? 🗿 Honestly, Tiki Phonk would have fit the whole vibe perfectly and made the edit way more high-energy ⚡🔥 The bass, the cowbells, and the entire atmosphere would have sounded absolutely insane 🎧💥 I was really expecting that style, because it always makes the clips smoother, harder-hitting, and just way more satisfying to watch 👌💯 Don't get me wrong, the edit was still clean 🍷 but Tiki Phonk would have taken the whole thing to a completely different level 🚀 The way those distorted beats sync up with the transitions is simply unmatched 😭 Every flash, zoom, and movement would have hit ten times harder 💣 The music just gives edits a certain aura 👁️🗿 As soon as the beat drops, everything suddenly feels cinematic and dangerous 😈⚔️ Bro, your editing style fits Tiki Phonk perfectly anyway 🤝 The pacing, the transitions, the effects—everything screams for that aggressive energy 🔥 Just imagine the bass dropping at the exact moment the clips switch 💥 or the cowbells echoing during the slow-motion parts 🎶 That would have been legendary 😭🙏 People would have definitely rewatched this edit over and over because the vibe is just addictive 📈🌀 That's the thing about Tiki Phonk 🎧 It doesn't just sound cool—it transforms the entire experience 🌌 Even simple clips suddenly feel powerful and unforgettable 🗿 The atmosphere gets darker, cleaner, and way more hype ⚡ Without the sound, the edit still looks good, but *with* it? Bro... then it becomes legendary—worthy of a generation 🍷🔥 Next time, trust the vision and let Tiki Phonk carry the edit 😭🙏 Let the bass shake the screen 💣 let the transitions breathe with the beat 🎶 and let the aura take over the whole video 👁️🗿 Trust me, bro: everything will sound cleaner, hit harder, and feel way more unforgettable 💯 Capiche, boy?
A burglar breaks into a weapons engineer's house, hoping to loot the high-tech arsenal. Suddenly, the engineer yells from upstairs, "Hey! Stop right there!"
The burglar, trying to play tough, screams, "Hands up! I know you've got the goods! Open the armory or I'll shoot!"
The engineer, trembling, cries, "Okay, okay! Don't shoot! I'll give you everything, even my latest prototype!"
The burglar, eyes gleaming with greed, demands, "Prove it! Let me see this fancy new gun first!"
The engineer points to a target range. "It's a plasma blaster," he claims. "Go ahead, give it a shot."
The burglar aims at the bullseye, pulls the trigger, and—BANG!—the gun fires directly into his own chest.
As the thief collapses, the engineer cackles, "Surprise! It's not plasma; it's my new 'Reverse-Recoil Special,' specifically designed for uninvited guests!"
I have a crush on a girl and both her parents are millionaires.
I guess that gives the term "Eat the rich" a whole new meaning.
I want to be a pornstar. Even if I completely suck, they will still give me a firm raise.
Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of working girls. Call girls. Hookers. Prostitutes. And the association is a long one, going back to the very earliest legends which place St. Nick as a Greek bishop in Myra, Lycia in what is now the Turkish Mediterranean - three centuries after Christ.
Saint Nicholas is notable primarily for giving secretly to the poor, and supposedly the first to benefit were three young ladies whose poor father couldn't afford wedding or dowry to marry them off - destining them instead to a life of prostitution. St. Nick supposedly threw a bag of gold through the window to pay for the wedding but, by the third attempt, the poor father was watching to determine the identity of the anonymous benefactor. Santa outsmarted him by dropping the last bag of coins down the chimney.
So, whenever you see Santa, he always travels with his three favourite sex workers - who seemingly never grow old. On a quiet, still Christmas night you can even hear him call them.
Ho! Ho! Ho! And to all a good night.
When I finished playing my guitar, I noticed an amputee in the crowd not giving me a round of applause.
"I'd love to give everyone another shot."
Harry, 26, works at the women's clinic.
3 boys were having a debate about who had the healthiest grandma.
Boy 1: "I have the healthiest grandma. She is 67 years old and can still do a backflip!"
Boy 2: "No, I have the healthiest grandma. She is 76 years old and can still finish a marathon!"
Boy 3: "I have the healthiest grandma. She is 85 and she is in the hospital..."
Boy 1 and 2, looking confused.
Boy 1: "If she's so healthy, why is she in the hospital?"
Boy 3: "Because she's giving birth right now!"
Yo momma so dumb, the doctor wanted to give her a blood transfusion but she said no because she thought it would turn her trans.
DEPRESSION SPEEDRUN starter-kit:
* Parental issues * Money problems * Genetic likeliness * Horrible friends * Annoying neighbors/classmates * School * Being alive * Actually being a good person for once * Giving a f#ck * War-ridden area * All future options kinda suck
His neighbor asked Hodja,
"Do you have some forty-year-old vinegar?"
"I have," answered Hodja.
"Would you give me some? I need it to prepare a medication," said the man.
"No, I won't," replied Hodja. "If I had given some to everybody who asked for it, would I have it for forty years?"
What did Osama give the Windows on the World restaurant in the WTC as a rating when he ate it? A 9/11!
What’s the difference between Jesus and a prostitute?
The look they give you while you’re nailing them.
A man walks into a restaurant. The waitress hands him a menu and it says: "Hot dog: $2, Hamburger: $5, Blowjob: $10."
He asks the waitress, "Are you the one who gives the hand jobs?"
She says, "Yes, I am."
He tells her, "Good. Can you go wash your goddamn hands? Because I want a hot dog."
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)
The man had no arms and a little girl came over and said, "Give me a high-five."
He said, "I’ve got no arms," and the girl said, "Are you an eel? Cause he don’t have arms."
Q: What kind of person has 100% ambition and never gives up if someone gets in their way?
A: A rapist.
What is it you can give at Christmas and still keep? Herpes.
A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What is politics?" The dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I'm the breadwinner of the family, so let's call me capitalism. Your mother, she's the administrator of the money, so we'll call her the government. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the people. The nanny, we'll consider her the working class. And your baby brother, we'll call him the future. Now, think about that and see if that makes sense."
The little boy goes off to bed thinking about what dad had said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has soiled his diaper. The little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.
The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now." The father says, "Good son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about."
The little boy replies, "Well, while capitalism is screwing the working class, the government is sound asleep, the people are being ignored and the future is in deep shit."
I gave a homeless person a phone but did not give him a home button.