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When you hear Michael Jackson talk about his "perfect 10," make sure you hide your 10-year-old son.

I was in a school shooting a few years ago, 3 people died.

I guess that’s what you get when you’re bad at hide and seek.

Why don’t rappers play hide and seek?

Because good luck finding someone who’s always in the booth!

Why do orphans hate hide and seek?

Their parents went to play hide and seek years ago.

Why don't rappers ever play hide-and-seek?

Because good luck hiding when your name's always dropping!

A housewife takes a lover during the day, while her husband is at work, not aware that her 9-year-old son was hiding in the closet. Her husband came home unexpectedly, so she hid her lover in the closet. The boy now has company.

Boy: "Dark in here." Man: "Yes, it is." Boy: "I have a baseball." Man: "That's nice." Boy: "Want to buy it?" Man: "No, thanks." Boy: "That's my dad outside." Man: "How much did you say the baseball was again?" Boy: "$250."

In the next few weeks, it happens again that the boy and the mom's lover are in the closet together.

Boy: "Dark in here." Man: "Yes, it is." Boy: "I have a baseball glove." Man: "That's nice." Boy: "Want to buy it?" Man: "No, thanks." Boy: "I think I just remembered something I needed to tell my dad." Man: "How much did you say the glove was again?" Boy: "$750." Man: "Fine."

A few days later, the father says to the boy, "Grab your glove. Let's go outside and toss the baseball!" The boy says, "I can't. I sold them." The father asks, "How much did you sell them for?" The son says, "$1,000." The father says, "It's terrible to overcharge your friends like that. That is way more than those two things cost. I'm going to take you to church and make you confess."

They go to church and the father alerts the priest and makes the little boy sit in the confession booth and closes the door.

The boy says, "Dark in here." The priest says, "Do not start that shit again!"

An old man goes to church.

One Sunday morning, an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt, and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand, he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn-out Bible.

The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed in expensive clothes and accessories.

As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.

As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship."

The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again, he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."

"I did," replied the old cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church."

How to catch Bigfoot: 1. Dig a large pit. 2. Build a fire in the pit and let it burn all the way to ashes. 3. Place small green peas all around the rim of the pit. 4. Hide in the bushes and wait. When Bigfoot goes to take a pea, kick him in the ash hole.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life.

Oh tissue, tender and so pure, Absorbing pain, a whispered cure. Each tear that falls, you gently hold, A conduit for the stories untold.

In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain.

But madden, oh how you disrupt, In your chaos, emotions erupt. You twist and tangle, hearts collide, Leaving us lost, unable to decide.

Yet even in your tangled mess, You bring forth growth, a rare finesse, For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day.

So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined, In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned. Through tears and anger, joy and fears, We find strength, as life perseveres.

Short and sweet, this tale of strife, Unraveling souls, seeking life. Madden, because tissue, we may be, But we'll rise above, forever free.