Give Jokes

A UN survey asked the following: Please, in your honest opinion, could you give your thoughts on the food shortages in the rest of the world?

It was a failure because:

South Americans don’t know the word “please.”

Eastern Europeans don’t know the word “honest.”

Middle Easterns don’t know the word “opinion.”

Balkans don’t know the word “give.”

Chinese don’t know the word “thoughts.”

Africans don’t know the word “food.”

Western Europeans don’t know the word “shortage.”

Americans don’t know the words “the rest of the world.”

Then they simply explained “just donate healthy food to the global south to help.” But that still didn’t sit right with everyone, because Israelis do not know the word “donate,” and Pacific Islanders do not know the words “healthy food.”

When Pope Pius IX died, he went to Heaven, knocked at the door, and St. Peter opened it: "Who are you? What do you want?”

"I am Pope Pius. I want to come to Heaven.”

“Where do you come from?"

"Rome."

“What do you mean? Rome, Massachusetts, or Rome, New York?"

"No, Rome, Italy, of course."

“I'm very sorry, but I do not know you!”

To make sure not to erroneously deny access to an authorized person, Saint Peter takes the telephone, calls up God, and asks: "Hello, Boss, here is a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome, do you know him?"

"What do you mean: Rome, Massachusetts, or Rome, New York?"

"No, Rome, Italy, of course."

"No, sorry, I don’t know him.”

Saint Peter makes another telephone call and rings up Jesus: "Hello, Junior, here’s a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome, do you know him?"

"Rome, Massachusetts, or Rome, New York?"

"Rome, Italy."

"No, sorry, never heard of him.”

Saint Peter still does not give up and finally calls up the Holy Ghost and asks: "Hello, Smoky, here is a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome. Do you know him?"

"What does he mean, Rome, Massachusetts, or Rome, New York?"

"He says Rome, Italy."

"No, sorry, I’m afraid I do not know this guy." But then, after a very short while, he continues: "Wait, wait, tell me, is that the guy who invented the damn story about Mary and me?"

An Indian has a seat between two Pakistani's on board an airplane.

It's quite obvious to each of the three men where they are from. The Indian asks, "Pardon me gentleman, you wouldn't mind me sitting between you, do you? This is my seat, after all."

The Pakistanis look at each other, and then look back at him. One of them smiles and says, "Not at all! After all, Pakistanis and Indians are brothers! Are we not?"

The Indian is delighted at how warm and friendly they are, and he takes his seat. Shortly the plane takes off and the three guys are just chilling until the Indian says, "You know it's going to be a long ride and I am getting thirsty. Brothers, can I get any of you like a drink?" Then one of them says, "Yes brother, I would like a Coke!"

The Indian slips off his shoes and walks barefoot to where the stewardess is at, and when the Indian is out of view, one of the Pakistanis spits into his shoe. The Indian comes back and gives him a Coke.

Then the other Pakistani says, "You know what brother? I would also like a Coke too!" The Indian happily obliges, and as soon as he is out of view, he also spits in his shoe before the Indian gives him a Coke.

Finally, the Indian slips on his shoes and suddenly realizes how wet they are. He shakes his head and says, "Brothers! Why must we do this to each other, spitting in each other's shoes and peeing in each other's Cokes?"

I was staying over at my friend's; for the purpose of the joke, he shall be called Kian. It was 03:00 am and everyone else was asleep when I heard a soft banging on the wall. I left the room to inspect it. Kian lived with his grandad John Hauge; it was thought he had a huge slong.

The banging was getting louder, and so too was my heartbeat. I opened John's door and ventured into the room. John was fully naked. There was a glory hole through the wall where I could make it Kian's ass. This is what I have been waiting for. I rip off my shorts, which Ali G bought for me, and silently moved towards John. I shoved [my] 1-inch wonder in his ear. John furiously turned around and slapped me with his cock, "You little gimp, get on the bed."

Kian came in the room with a 2-litre bottle of Irn Bru. He demanded, "What the fudge are you doing?"

I replied smoothly, "Kian, you tracksuit warrior, you have a camel toe!"

Kian fires back, "Shut it, Paul, you have genital warts!"

John screams, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He then gives us it so rough I can't walk the next day, but [I] feel pleasured for eternity.

By Lewis

"Hey man, what's that, a dynamite you have in your hand? Ok, well hold it over. I'll give it right back."

"Oh no, I won't!"

"Oh yes, you will!"

"Oh, I won't!"

"Oh yes, you will!"

"Ok fine, then you take it or I'll blow our your butt before it farts."

Tata

A shirtless man, Andrew Tate, is walking towards the street while a text overlay says, "Andrew Tate on his way to give the worst possible opinion in the history of mankind."

One time my boyfriend and I were playing the tickle game and I tickled him on his thighs by accident, and I said, "Oh no, I am dead."

Then he started tickling me on my thighs up to my vagina, and then I moaned while laughing and told him, "STOP, please."

Then he said, "That's what I thought," and I was like, you cheated. He was like, "You first did it."

So he went to the restroom and pulled down his pants. Then I jumped on him and pulled his dick five times, and he screamed, and I quickly ran out and laughed. Then he ran to me, and I screamed, and he started eating my pussy and fingering me while I said, "Okay, okay, stop."

And he stopped and started sucking my boobs and giving me hickeys while I said, "Please stop," and then I pushed him off, and he turned me around and put his dick in my hole, and I said, "Owwwwwwww."

Then he said, "Play with me, I'll fuck you up."

I said, "Ughh," and slapped him.

Kid: Dad, I want Santa to give me an iPhone.

Indian poor dad: Son, Santa is deaf.

Kid: No, he is not. I saw him on TV yesterday.

Indian poor dad: Oh, actually, I asked him for a new wife. Maybe he is wearing AirPods.

Kid: You are my Santa, daddy.

Indian poor dad: Pull down your pants, son.

Kid: It's not an Apple product.

Indian poor dad: It's a banana.

There is only one thing I have to give my enemies.

A bucket full of dead baby heads and semen so they can replenish their spawn.

What do you call the most fucking racist and obnoxious country in the fucking entire fucking omniverse? NORTH AMERICA!

And if you disagree just 'cus you're American, I don't give a fuck, you low life cunts. Plus, if you don't think you're racist, um, hello people? Motherfucking George Floyd!