Head jokes

I wanted to make a joke about dandruff.

People are still scratching their heads over it.

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)

Did you know Kurt had dandruff?

Found his head and shoulders behind the couch.

My uncle died from falling off a ladder and landing on his head (true story).

All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put my uncle together again.

My brother was stuck in a wheelchair after a motorbike accident. He became a swimming champion until I took the VR headset off.

What was Kurt Cobain's biggest flaw?

He had a short temper and lost his head over everything.

Kurt Cobain's last job was a blow job. He blew his head clean off.

Shortly after the hole was finished, everyone in the forest was looking for long grass to fill the hole. The upper layer covered it with short grass and scattered some grass around the hole so it didn't seem as conspicuous. The next evening, the villagers hid in their houses and turned off the lights and waited inside, while one of the farmers stood outside and, if possible, unobtrusively skimped on a cart.

Around midnight, the Headless Rider appeared with his horse in the village. He saw the seemingly single peasant scooping his hay and rode towards him. He was about to swing his axe, and while he was doing so, he overlooked the slightly more scattered grass near the farmer – and thus fell into the trap. He clumsily slumped into the prefabricated hole together with his horse and now lay there helplessly inside, together with his horse, which swayed in panic as the rider's axe was stuck in its back.

When the villagers heard this, they all stormed out of the houses to surround the hole. They saw the Headless Rider, and when he noticed all the villagers around him, he cursed: “Gaaah! You stupid villagers caught me! I can't do much down here. I give up.” The villagers took his axe away from him. Now they only needed a just punishment for the rider.

One of the villagers shouted: “We should tie him to a rope and hang him! He tried to kill us all and plagued us for a long time. So we should kill him and let him suffer for a long time!” The other villagers agreed with him. So they tied a thick rope to a branch of a large tree that stood in the village garden. The villagers took the Headless Rider out of the hole and dragged him to the rope. As they were about to hang the rope around his neck, they noticed that something didn't fit in their plan to hang the Headless Rider. Then the Headless Rider cried out: “You stupid mortals, I have no head at all! Why are you trying to hang me?”

A team of cops and a news reporter are at a home where a violent crime has been committed. The head news reporter, in front of the camera, says, "A woman in this house has killed her husband because he stepped on the floor while she was mopping." He then turns around and asks a cop, "Has the woman been arrested yet?" The cop replies, "Not yet, we're waiting for the floor to dry."

What do you call a blowjob from a girl who has autism?

Special head.

The warden gave them a choice of three ways to die: to be shot, to be hung, or to be injected with the AIDS virus for a slow death.

So the German said, "Shoot me right in the head." Boom, he was dead instantly.

Then the Italian said, "Just hang me." Snap, he was dead.

Then the Irishman said, "Give me some of that AIDS stuff." They gave him the shot, and the Irishman fell down laughing. The guards looked at each other and wondered what was wrong with this guy.

Then the Irishman said, "Give me another one of those shots," so the guards did. Now he was laughing so hard, tears rolled from his eyes and he doubled over.

Finally, the warden said, "What is wrong with you?"

The Irishman replied, "You guys are so stupid... I'm wearing a condom!"

Inside a room full of squares, buckets, and tints, there are two inspectors. One is called Mr. Right, the other one is called Mr. Wrong. Because of their names, the first one is trusted more than the second one.

Mr. Wrong eventually got tired of that and worked on a plan for how more people could trust him. He took a jigsaw and he started to cut into his brain and sawed away half of his brain. It was still working.

Then he took a loaf of toast, cut it into half and glued it on his head, and then he made a strawberry cream and sprayed it on the toast. Because people couldn't recognize him as "Mr. Wrong," he was able to solve more cases.

Say what you want about Jeffery Dahmer, but he always managed to get a head.

ISIS recently brought out their own shampoo: HEAD AND SOLDIERS.

Your hairline is so far gone that you could build a runway.

I know Marie Antoinette jokes aren't funny, but they're nothing to lose your head over.

Jokes about Marie Antoinette aren't funny, but that's no reason to lose your head.

Q. What do you call a CEO that's been shot in the head?

A. An ambulance.

What is Jeffrey Dahmer's favorite song?

"Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes."

This is two heads.

Deaf. "Deep water." ""

- "78 years."

Are you interested again? ""

"If you go ... you are there."

"No. 85 is good."

What is the most important value? It does not take cheese.