Hope jokes

This is to the girl/boy named Gwen: Are you okay? I see there is a bunch of haters but DON'T, I repeat, DON'T let the haters get to you. I hope you see this and respond and that you are okay. Please Gwen, be honest.

Answering a knock at my door, I see a vacuum cleaner salesman who proceeds to tip a huge bucket of shit all over my carpet, before proclaiming any trace this hoover doesn't remove I will personally eat myself.

"Well, I hope you're hungry," I replied, "'cause they cut off my electric this morning!"

In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.

With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.

His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.

With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.

He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.

Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.

The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.

For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.

Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.

So guys, I have a friend who is named Sarah, and I was riding bikes with her the other day, and she told me she is gay. I totally support her. I love that she is open about it and not scared to tell people about it. I hope you guys can support her too! I love you all! :)))

What's an orphan's favorite toy?

A boomerang, because it always comes back.

Fat teachers be like: "I hope you're paying a ten chin."

So, I tell my friend a pun about Bach. She freaks out. Then I say, "I hope that wasn't too much to Handel. Don't let it Strauss you out."

For all of my musicians out there!

When I was a kid, my hamster died, so my mum bought a new identical one, hoping I wouldn't notice. It didn't matter anyway, since I beat that one to death, too.

Why didn't R. Kelly go to Germany to fuck teens? The legal age there is 14...Like bro hop on a plane and fuck a 14 year old hooker!

What do orphans want to get for Christmas?... A mother.

Yeah, Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad, I know, yeah, I'm sad, I know, yeah. Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad I know, yeah, I'm sad I know, yeah.

I gave her everything. She took my heart and left me lonely. I think broken heart's contagious. I won't fix, I'd rather weep. I'm lost then I'm found. But it's torture bein' in love. I love when you're around. But I f**kin' hate when you leave. Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad I know, yeah, I'm sad I know, yeah. Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad I know, yeah, I'm sad I know, yeah. Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad I know, yeah, I'm sad I know, yeah. Who am I? Someone that's afraid to let go, uh. You decide if you're ever gonna let me know, yeah. Suicide if you ever try to let go, uh. I'm sad I know, yeah, I'm sad I know, yeah.

Why do emo kids sneak up on their Vietnamese grandfathers? Because they hope the war experience kicks in.

A Story:

I lived in a small house. Behind my house was a big forest. If I went in the forest, then I heard scary sounds. That was very dreadful. I had a son. He was 9 years old. One day he went into the forest and did not come back. I called the police, but it couldn't help. I went looking. I really wanted my son Robby back. I missed him so! With a flashlight and compass, I went into the dark, eerie forest. Then the noises came again, but this time I also heard a scream. A scream from a nine year old child. It was Robby, certainly! I stopped in front of a tunnel.

Sequel follows...

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

Are you a lollipop? Because I can suck on you all day.

Are you an Oreo? Because I eat the cream first.

Are you a microwave? Because I’m trying to keep you quiet at 3:00 am.

Are you a sprinkler? Cause every time I see you I get wet.

Are you makeup? Cause I’d spend hours doing you.

Are you a guitar? Because I’d love to hear the noises you make when I play with you.

Are you an elevator? Cause I wanna ride you up and down.

Most restaurants are closed at night, but your legs aren’t.

I’m not a cashier, but you got a couple of things I wanna check out.

Are you Cinderella? Because I can see that dress coming off at midnight.

Are you a calendar? Because I want to pin you against the wall.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, but I hope it’s you.

Are you a doughnut? Cause I wanna fill you with cream.

Are you a garden? Cause I want to plant some seeds inside of you.

Do you sing in the shower? Because if so, I need a private ticket of your concert.

Are your legs the twin towers? Because I’ll bomb what’s in between.

Are you a blanket? Because you’re on top of me every night.

Are you a phone? Cause I like to be on you 24/7.

Are you a roller coaster? Because the faster you go, the louder I scream.

I’m so jealous of your heart right now because it’s pounding inside of you and I’m not.

Are you a popsicle? Cause all I want to do is lick you up and down.

Are you a construction worker? Because you got me all bricked up.

Are you a fireman? Because you came in hot and left me wet.

What does the receptionist at a sperm bank say when you leave?

"Thanks for coming. Hope you come again soon."

1. Full name: John.

2. Proverb: work is not a rabbit, does not run.

3. Favorite meal: the sphinx with the sour cream.

4. Sexual orientation: sexually disorientated.

5. Mental health: mentally retarded.

6. Previous careers: funeral undertaking, after that two years in the circus as the main brown bear, after that in the church school for two years, after this experience five years as a screw in the jail for the worst criminals with the top degree of supervision and now working for the secret services in my home country after gaining the top-secret audit.

7. Favorite pets: dog, bumble bee named Maxo, a butterfly named Redwing and the lizard named Notail.

8. Favorite activities: washing the dishes, cutting the woods, vacuuming and playing hard rock.

9. Working motivation: none.

I hope that you will accept my curriculum vitae and that we will see each other soon already as new colleagues, I wish more or less. Kind regards, John.

My sister said to kill myself, so now I’m in the hospital hoping to die.

A man puts in ten jokes into a joke contest. He hopes that at least one will win. Sadly, no pun intended.

My syndrome is down, but my hopes are up.