Hold jokes
Watersharky Music Productions Presents As It Was by Harry Styles.
Holdin' me back Gravity's holdin' me back I want you to hold out the palm of your hand Why don't we leave it at that?
Nothin' to say When everything gets in the way Seems you cannot be replaced And I'm the one who will stay, oh-oh-oh
In this world, it's just us You know it's not the same as it was In this world, it's just us You know it's not the same as it was As it was, as it was You know it's not the same
Answer the phone "Harry, you're no good alone Why are you sitting at home on the floor? What kind of pills are you on?"
Ringin' the bell And nobody's coming to help Your daddy lives by himself He just wants to know that you're well, oh-oh-oh
In this world, it's just us You know it's not the same as it was In this world, it's just us You know it's not the same as it was As it was, as it was You know it's not the same
Go home, get ahead, light-speed internet I don't wanna talk about the way that it was Leave America, two kids follow her I don't wanna talk about who's doin' it first.
What did the octopus say to the other? "Let’s hold hands by hands by hands by hands by hands by hands by hands by hands."
Fun fact! You can hold your breath till the rest of your life.
A blonde was down on her luck. In order to raise some money, she decided to kidnap a kid and hold him for ransom.
She went to the playground, grabbed a kid, took him behind a tree, and told him, "I've kidnapped you."
She then wrote a note saying, "I've kidnapped your kid. Tomorrow morning, put $10,000 in a paper bag and put it under the pecan tree next to the slide on the north side of the playground. Signed, Blonde."
The blonde then taped the note to the kid's shirt and sent him home to show it to his parents.
The next morning the blonde checked, and sure enough, a paper bag was sitting beneath the pecan tree. The blonde opened the bag and found the $10,000 with a note that said, "How could you do this to a fellow Blonde?"
What has 182 teeth and holds back a monster?
My zipper.
A young blonde woman fears her husband is having an affair, so she goes to a shop and buys a handgun.
The next day she comes home to find her husband in bed with a beautiful redhead. She grabs the gun and holds it to her head. The husband jumps out of bed, begging and pleading with her not to shoot herself. The hysterical blonde tells her husband: "Shut up... you're next!"
Joshua White loves blue, A simple truth, tried and true. In his pocket, only six, Yet each penny a valued fix.
With eyes that seek the azure skies, He dreams of places that mesmerize. A palette of blues, a symphony of hues, Whispering secrets only he can choose.
His heart beats to the rhythm of the sea, Where waves crash, wild and free. In sandy shores, he finds solace rare, A momentary escape from life's daily wear.
In cerulean fields, flowers dance, Their vibrant petals, a timeless romance. He wanders through meadows, devoid of strife, Seeking solace in nature's vibrant life.
Joshua White, a soul of gentle grace, Embracing the world at his own pace. Though his pockets hold a mere six, His spirit soars, never to be fixed.
For in the depths of his azure dreams, The richness of life's tapestry gleams. And with every breath, he finds anew, That love is boundless, ever true.
How many blondes does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
5
4 to turn the table, and 1 to hold the bulb.
How do you stop a skunk from smelling?
Hold its nose.
Worst joke ever.
My boyfriend and I were playing baseball last night with some of our friends. Halfway through the game we took a break and he asked me to hold his balls for him whilst he went to the toilet.
All our friends were shocked when I went into the boys' bathroom with him.
Touch your toes and hold them. Then spell "run." It will say, "r.u.n."
I only remember my father's last words before he died. He said, "Are you still holding the ladder?"
I met a kid at the park. He was holding a picture of his parents in his hands. They had died on 9/11.
So, I went to comfort him. I said, "Hey, I lost my grandpa on 9/11. He was great. At flying a plane."
Me: John, what did he do earlier?
John: Hold on, I’m trying to think.
Me: I thought I smelled poop.
In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.
It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.
It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.
This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.
So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.
"Hold my beer, watch this."
A woman delivers a baby. The doctor takes the baby and throws it, smashing it around the hospital room, drop-kicking it, etc. The mother starts freaking out, being held back by nurses, begging, “WHYYYY!!??”. The doctor holds the baby upside down by the ankle and says, “I’m just fucking with you, it was born dead”.
9/11 jokes are that deadly not even the towers could hold themselves up.
What did the hurricane say to the coconut palm tree?
Hold on to your nuts, this one's gonna blow!
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...