Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool. – I gave him a glass of water.
An Irishman, Englishman and Scotsman go into a pub and each order a pint of Guinness. Just as the bartender hands them over, three flies buzz down and one lands in each of the pints. The Englishman looks disgusted, pushes his pint away and demands another pint. The Scotsman picks out the fly, shrugs, and takes a long swallow. The Irishman reaches in to the glass, pinches the fly between his fingers and shakes him while yelling, “Spit it out, ya bastard! Spit it out!”
If I was an object in this world I’d be a glass! Because if you leave me when I’m too close to the edge I will likely shatter and break.
If I was a pizza topping I would be pineapple! Because everybody doubts me.
I’m a star! Because one of these days I’m going to crash and burn…
If I could choose what creature I come back as after I die I’d be a panda, because people would give a shit if I went extinct.
I’m like the sun; I’m painful to look at.
If I was a food I would be chopped liver because nobody likes me.
I’m like an eggshell… broken and empty.
If I was a mythical creature I’d be a unicorn! Because nobody believes in me.
I’m like a flashlight with old batteries inside because my inner light died a long time ago.
My soul is a raisin because it’s dried up shriveled, and not everyone likes it.
I’m like the moon because you only get to see one side of me.
I’m like the moon because as the month progresses my life becomes covered more and more by darkness.
I’m like an Ex streamly powerful fan! Because I push everyone away.
I’m like a disposable camera! People use me once and then just throw me away.
I’m like a shity book cover… because people think they have the right to judge and label me before they read my pages.
My brain and body is essentially a really old married couple that can’t afford to go through with the divorce and now they are stuck in a toxic relationship they are desperate to escape but the more they try the more they sink into the quicksand that is my depression and anxiety
This guy in a trench coat walks up to a kid, opens the trench coat and has glasses inside. He says to the kid, “Hey kid, want some extra-see”
Friend: Why did you touch me? Me: That guy in the corner with no hair , glasses, really nice, white button up shirt, that drives a white van slow by school zones told me to and he would give me hard candy.
The Trump cocktail .Take a large glass + fill it with a ounce of everything behind the bar . Top it with whipped cream and a cherry . Now for the hard part Finding a Mexican to pay for it .
The optimist think the glass is half full The pessimist think the glass is half empty The feminist think the glass is raping them
Break a wine glass: I give you bad luck for a year. Break a mirror: Funny wine glass, i give you bad luck for 7 years. Breaking a condom: Haha so funny mirror.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
The chicken was in 666 pieces after being molested by gerard brutally with a rail gun covered in spears covered in his lymph his beak was ripped open and shoved in his feet after glass shards were shoved into his eyes until they came out the other side. His feet were nailed to the ground.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because the chicken had 4 chicks and a cheating hen who all sucked out all his money he got from his extremely boring job, and he finally got some peace for himself and was going to the local bar, which was on the other side of the road. He walked in the door, wings sagging, feathers catching on his claws. The bartender eyes him as he sits on a bar stool. “Chuck, how ya doin’? The missus doin’ good?” "Just give me the hardest stuff you got. I’m done." This caught the bartender by surprise. “Chuck, come on, don’t be sayin’ that. Just look to the future and you’ll be fine.” “What future?” Chuck replied in a huff. “My wife and chicks are so goddamn pestering sometimes, you know? But if I leave, they’ll all suffer, and I don’t want that either. Oh, God, Phil, I don’t know what to do.” “You know, you’ve got a good heart for a rooster your age,” Phil answered. "We need that in these parts. I’m tellin’ ya, there will be more than what’s happenin’ right now, ya know, life’s got all its gears turning for ya, and there’s just a bit slow right now. The gears haven’t been oiled in a while, but who’s the only one who can fix that?" Chuck knew the answer. "Me." Phil returned with his drink. "McClucken’s Whiskey, on the house." Chuck glanced at his glass. He held it up to the light. His face reflected in an aura around it, neither looking forward to the light and not backward, either. “No thanks, Phil,” Chuck sighed, "But thanks anyways." He went to get up out of his chair. Phil called as he walked out the door, "Just remember to oil the gears every now and then, eh?" Chuck’s comb flapped in a cool breeze brought in by the season. A bench was nearby, staring across to the other side. And he just sat there, sat there thinking. Cars blurred to a colorfully colorless nothingness as he thought in silence. He could see an open window in his mind, full of chickens: a sassy hen, two identical sportish chick; another, older than the two, and body bristling with blue comb-dye and the latest thing he watched online fresh on his Chickstagram page; finally, the first of the bunch, shy, bookish, with a secretly courageous soul. They all looked… worried, worried for the rooster who guided them, helped them grow, supported them… and all looking out of the window back at him. A single tear welled in Chuck’s eye. The chicken walked back across the road to his family, to his friends, and to the life he was content with.
A man enters a bar with some friends, and they all sit down to a drink. After not too long, a man with glasses comes through the front door saying “Anyone who wants to fly off the third story balcony, come upstairs with me!” When no one listens, he shrugs, and everyone watches him go up the stairs. Ten seconds later, he comes back in through the door, again saying “Anyone who wants to fly off the third story balcony, come upstairs with me!” Everyone is amazed, and a few people leave to go fly with him. He keeps coming back into the bar, bringing more and more patrons to join him. The man at the bar is about to join in when the bartender finally sighs. "For the last time Superman, get out of my bar, you’re drunk and the only person here that can fly!" The man with glasses frowns. “Where did all the others go, then?”
An 80 year old blind man ask his grandson can you grab my glasses Then the grandson say did you get in the flour again Grandpa said no it was the weed