A woman went into her garden and danced in front of her vegetables.
The next morning, her corn didn’t grow, and the tomatoes didn’t blush or turn red, but the cucumbers grew four inches.
Normal girl stating her opinion.
My name is Jade Harris. I don’t know if you guys know it, but “rape” jokes are really starting to get sexist and could lead to people getting raped. IT IS MY OPINION PEOPLE DON’T HATE ME! 😡. People are talking about how men are better than women, but men and women are both good. Someone posted about how they hate the media being about women and other bull crap, but fuck it, I hate the media being about both genders. And people sound like fucking rapists here!!! Some boy did story time and then said women are weak and I can rape a women if I feel like it and shit! But no one knows what it feels like to be a women? Only women do. 😠. Women have to have kids with men of course, but it is hard to be a like that. 1. We grow up just the same as men, and men don’t always get judged for dressing except for that stupid pants were we can see your underwear shit, which is pt style. Women are the ones who pay the bills, lose half of there energy and MOST of the time take care of the kids and work for a living men do too. But women get raped and harassed and molested and sexual assaulted/battery/abuse, and when a women wants to dress up how she feels she gets slut shamed for it. So really being a women is harder will being both genders are. Facts!!!
Aiden and Gwen! Are Aiden and Gwen dating? 'Cause if they are, then oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Kenya says: Yes, they are deep in love!
Tenya says: Yeah, but I think he would be good with Hoochie girl 101!
Gwen says: Guys stop! You really think that!
Tenya and Kenya say: Yes!
Kariah says: No! I belong with him. He is MINEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!
Mariah says: Girl, you need to grow up!
Tenya says: Yeah! When are you guys getting married?
Lariah says: YEAH!!!!!!
Iariah says: Yeah!!!!!!!
Gwen says: Next Sunday!
All girls say: Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Next Sunday, they got married! YAYAYAYYAYAYAY!
Mariah says: Congrats!
Kenya says: Yeah!
Kariah says: Hi Aiden, super cute tux!
Lariah says: Wooohoooo!
Iariah says: Yeah! U won it!
Tenya: This is you guys' time to shine!!!!!!!!
And they lived happily ever after...in hell! The end!
A man needs to leave for a lengthy business trip, but his wife is saddened by this. She explains to him that if he isn’t home every night, there will be no way to satisfy herself if she feels horny. The man claims that she doesn’t need sex, because a dildo should work just fine.
He quickly runs to the local gift shop and asks the cashier if the store carries anything really special. The cashier quietly pulls out an old box and removes a wooden penis from inside. The cashier states that the dildo has been passed down in his family for generations and was crafted by a witch deep within the Amazon jungle. The cashier sits up in his chair and shouts, “Voodoo Dick, the door!”
The wooden penis flies across the room and begins to rapidly thrust itself in and out of the front door keyhole. “Voodoo Dick, the lamp!” The wooden penis flies up inside of the lamp on the cashier’s desk and, once again, begins to thrust in and out. “Voodoo Dick, return to your box!” The wooden penis flies back into the box, and the cashier closes the lid.
The man chooses to buy the wooden penis, and just as he is about to leave, the cashier tells him a very important bit of information regarding the Voodoo Dick: “The cursed dildo can only be controlled through verbal commands, it is far too powerful to be moved by hand,” says the cashier. “You must never forget that!”
The man nods and heads home.
Later that day, the man explains to his wife how the sex toy works, and then leaves for his trip.
A few days later, the wife becomes very horny and opens up the box. She proceeds to shout, “Voodoo Dick, my pussy!” The dildo zooms into her vagina and pleasures her for roughly 6-8 hours. She soon begins to grow tired and attempts to pull the dildo out of her. She pulls as hard as she can but just can’t get it out. The wife panics and begins driving to the hospital with the wooden penis still inside of her vagina. A police officer pulls her over for speeding and asks to see some identification. The wife exclaims, “Help, help, there is a Voodoo Dick inside of my vagina and it won’t come out!”
The officer raises an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Voodoo Dick my ass, bitch.”
========================= (pre-election 2016) Trump Hating Comedian at seedy East L.A. comedy club -
"Hey how 'bout that Donald Trump chump.... what the fuck up with that dude, man ?
"Geeeezus, he got some kuh-razy ass shit spewing endlessly out that pie-hole, 24/8!" (< leap week, muthafukas !)
. . . "I mean, even his last name rhymes with shit that's synonymous for bein' fucked up, for instance ....
STUMP : TEENY DICK
BUMP : TINY TIT
GUMP : DIMWITTED MOVIE IDIOT GUY
MUMP : A FUCKED UP CHILDREN'S DISEASE
LUMP : IF IT'S MALIGNANT, YOU'RE KINDA FUCKED
UMP : OFTEN MAKES TERRIBLE CALLS
RUMP : AN ASS
DUMP : A PILE OF SHIT THAT CAME OUT OF AN ASS
HUMP : SOMETHING DADDY DID TO HIM DAILY THROUGHOUT CHILDHOOD
PUMP : SEE "HUMP"
. . . and last, but definitely not least --
JUMP : JUMP INTO A DEEP VAT 'O SCAT MOTHER FUCKER, AND GO STRAIGHT TO HELL BITCH !! ....
HA!HA!HA!HA ! YESSS !!
.... well boys and girls, that's gonna be about it for me, as I think my explosive diarrhea is about ready to take a big turn for the worse !"
......(splort !, plop !, drip !) ....... OOOOPS ! 'snif, snif' ........
..... ewwwwww !!
(audience growing uneasy and unruly)
"Fuhhk ! ... I better go now , 'cause I just went ! ... ha! ha! ha! ...... Yikes !!
GOOD NIGHT LAZIES, AND GERBILMEN ! PLEASE DRIVE RECKLESSLY !
(curtain drops)
(continuous laughter, guffaws, cheers, jeers, queers, beers, pants peeing, beaters beating, pepper sprayin', fists fuckin', guns poppin', blood pumpin')
"OH LORDY !!... I THINK HELL HATH FINALLY COMETH,
... AND ARMAGITTIN' THE FUCK OUTTA HEEE !!"
(one very quick curtain call, and swiftly out the back door to an awaiting taxi ............ with ALL the windows rolled down) Whew ! ............ Amen. ==============================
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.
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...
