A Biologist, a Chemist, and a Statistician are out hunting.
The biologist shoots at a deer and misses five feet to the left.
The chemist shoots at the same deer and misses five feet to the right.
The statistician shouts, "We got him!"
Hunt Jokes
I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.
I took out my wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?"
"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless man replied.
"Will you use it to go fishing instead of buying food?" I asked.
"No, I don't waste time fishing," the homeless man said. "I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive."
"Will you spend this on hunting equipment?" I asked.
"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't gone hunting in 20 years!"
"Well," I said, "I'm not going to give you money. Instead, I'm going to take you home for a shower and a terrific dinner cooked by my wife."
The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for doing that?"
I replied, "Don't worry about that. It's important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up drinking, fishing and hunting."
In a world of feline folly, There lived a cat with a secret, A taste for adventure and mischief, And a love for KFC's golden treat.
With eyes like emerald jewels, And fur as black as night, This feline prowled the streets, In search of a savory delight.
Oh, how it yearned for chicken, Crispy and finger-lickin' good, But the cat knew it had to be sly, To satisfy its craving like it should.
Through alleyways it stealthily tiptoed, With nimble paws and a stealthy glide, Until it stumbled upon a secret, That made its hunger amplified.
A stash of KFC's golden eggs, Hidden away from prying eyes, An accidental treasure trove, A feast fit for a feline paradise.
With each stolen egg devoured, The cat's satisfaction grew, The taste of crispy breading, And juicy chicken, it knew.
Word soon spread of this food bandit, A legend of a cat so bold, Whispers echoed through the town, Of the one who stole the KFC gold.
But the cat with the KFC get eggs, Remained a mystery to all, A phantom of the night it became, Leaving no trace, no trail to recall.
And so, it continues its nightly quest, For chicken that satisfies its soul, The cat with the KFC get eggs, Forever on the prowl, never to be controlled.
Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He doesn’t seem to be breathing, and his eyes are glazed.
The other guy whips out his phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps, "My friend is dead! What can I do?"
The operator says, "Calm down. I can help. First, let’s make sure he’s dead."
There is a silence, then a shot is heard. Back on the phone, the guy says, "OK, now what?"
I hate it when I go to the shop and people are like, "Oh, hey what are you doing here?"
Me: "Oh, you know, just hunting elephants."
Me: I found a group of furries in the woods.
Voice in back: Well, it looks like we're going huntin'.
Shit, if somebody invades America, the Crips and the Bloods are gonna call a truce so that they can get the big toys out and call Geneva achievement. White women would ride into battle riding lions, tigers, and bears while claymore-strapped rhumbas swept the streets. There's a reason Putin keeps threatening to boom boom us with the boom booms and make you see x-rays before you go go.
We have freaking cannibals still. Hell, we have more guns than people. Dodging bullets has become a rite of passage. Just look at how we raise our kids on caffeine and M16s playing Call of Duty. Then we send them into the warzone known as the American public education system with no weapons. No means to protect themselves other than with their fists. Here Timmy, fight off the bullets with your bare fist and hope you can zig-zag. Hell, the quiet kids in this country start dropping bodies just cause you teased them. The fuck you think's gonna happen when Timmy can't get his damn chicken nuggets and you took his internet out?
Hell, the gangs in America would no longer make their money off the drugs illegally. They'd be our medics and taking bets on kill shots. Don't even get me started on the unhinged millennials the moment they can't get their mood stabilizers. War crimes would become an art form and we'd run around like we playing Pokemon. GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL! Americans would turn war crimes into an extreme sport while the military stands back and records it just so they can show the rest of the world the example of why not to fuck with us. Shit, Geneva Convention would turn into a to-do list on every American household fridge. We take that shit so seriously we'd have Comedy Central sending Kevin Hart to tell us rules for engagement. Racism in America would be single-handedly by ended as Billy Bob and Tyrone high five because they think they just unlocked the super secret duck hunt level with foreign paratroopers. Shit somebody please threaten us with a good time. Invade the United States. Let us show you why the first color in our flag is red.
All people on here, what's your least favorite hunting rifle? Mine's Sako-85.
A man went hunting with his son and shot an animal.
The father asks the son to identify the animal he just shot, and the son answers: "Holy Cow!"
Father: "What do you mean, 'Holy Cow?'"
Son: "You shot a hole in the cow, of course!"
Ahhhhh shit! IT’S HUNTING SEASON y’all!
This dad went out hunting, he killed a deer. He came home and he and his wife decided to have it for dinner but not tell their kids. Instead, they made them guess. The dad said, "It's something that daddy calls mommy." The little girl yells to her brother, "Don't eat it! It's an ass!"
You're so ugly that when you came out of the haunted house, you had a job offer.
"I’m on a hunt for my wife’s murderer, have been for years."
"Oh my God! Your wife’s been murdered?!"
"No no, you misunderstand. I’m still looking for him."
I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.
I took out my wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?"
"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless man replied.
"Will you use it to go fishing instead of buying food?" I asked.
"No, I don't waste time fishing," the homeless man said. "I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive."
"Will you spend this on hunting equipment?" I asked.
"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't gone hunting in 20 years!"
"Well," I said, "I'm not going to give you money. Instead, I'm going to take you home for a shower and a terrific dinner cooked by my wife."
The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for doing that?"
I replied, "Don't worry about that. It's important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up drinking, fishing and hunting."
I was hunting at night for deer, and then I found one and shot it. I realized the deer I shot was actually my ex...
Man: I'm here for the job interview.
Employer: Oh good, good. Sit down. We don't get many people for the interviews.
Man: Just anywhere?
Employer: Yeah, make yourself comfortable. Jackson, right?
Man: Yeah, that's me.
(Shakes hands and sits back down)
Employer: So what makes you eligible for the job, Jackson?
Man: Well, I'm really good at capturing the perfect shot and angle. It really takes dedication to do this type of job. Concentration and willpower, sir.
Employer: I like you already, you're hired!
Man: Wow, thanks, sir. I know I won't do you wrong. I'll work hard for this job!
Employer: You start now! Your first person is a man named John F Kennedy.
Man: What? You want me to just take pictures of him during the parade?
Employer: No.
Man: This... This is a photography job, right?
Employer: No... this is a job employment for man hunting.
There is this fish, and this fish thinks if that fly drops 6 inches, I’m gonna jump out the water and eat that fucking fish!
Then there is a bear, he thinks if that fly drops six inches, that fish jumps up - I’m gonna run out there and eat that fucking fish!
This huntsman also thinks to himself 🧐 if that fly drops six inches, fish jumps up, bear runs out, eats the fish. I’m gonna shoot that fucking bear.
Unbelievably there is a tiny little brave mouse, who also thinks to himself 🧐 if that fly drops six inches, fish jumps, bear runs, huntsman shoots,
He’s bound to drop that cheese sandwich in his back pocket!!!!
I’m gonna eat that fucking cheese sandwich!!
Meanwhile...
there’s This cat!!!’ He sees what’s going on - if they fly drops six inches -the fish =bear =huntsman =mouse eating the cheese sarnie....
Easy pickings...
Anyway bang 💥 the fly drops six inches. Fish jumps up. Bear grabs the fish. Huntsman shoots the fucking bear,
DROPS HIS CHEESE SARNIE!!
Cat runs after mouse trying to get the cheese sarnie
The cat slips over him (stacks it) cat falls in the river...
LONG STORY I KNOW BUT THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS...
every time a fly drops six inches a pussy get wet)
WALLOP... try remembering all that in A pub pissed. Xx
Wolf looks like a fox.
It has the sharpest claws.
It has a bushy tail.
To eat, it doesn't fail.
It has a coat of red.
My grandmother has said,
It hunts in search of food.
It is never, never good!
Which is the best sport at making fat people lose weight?
Canned hunting.
Don't Touch My Truck-By: Breland and Sam Hunt
You can drink my liquor. You can call my lady. You can take my money. You can smoke my blunt. Scuff these Jordans. You can say you hate me. You can call me crazy, but Don't touch my truck (skrrt, skrrt) Skrrt (yeah, yeah) Skrrt Don't touch my truck (brrp, yeah) Skrrt (woo-oh) Skrrt Don't touch my V8 engine with the windows tinted Boy, we came from the bottom, got it out the mud Whole block jumpin' 'cause the subs stay hittin'. If they roll up on me, know I keep one tucked (ooh, yeah) Woo Tell them boys come and get me. I be ridin' through the city. Young, rich and I'm pretty. Homie, don't get it twisted. Keep a semi in the hemi (oh) Red cup full of Henny. My hitters come in plenties, for real. You can drink my liquor. You can call my lady. You can take my money. You can smoke my blunt. Scuff these Jordans. You can say you hate me. You can call me crazy, but Don't touch my truck (skrrt, skrrt) Skrrt (yeah, yeah) Skrrt Don't touch my truck (brrp, yeah) Skrrt (woo-oh) Skrrt Don't touch my Wood grain dash with the matte black finish And it match my shawty with the big ol' butt. Know them boys soft 'cause they got hard feelings. You can try me if you wanna go and test your luck (woo) Tell them boys come and get me (get me) I be ridin' through the city. Young, rich and I'm pretty (yeah) Homie, don't get it twisted (yeah) Keep a semi in the hemi (in the hemi) Red cup full of Henny (yeah, we drinking) My hitters come in plenties, for real. You can drink my liquor. You can call my lady. You can take my money. You can smoke my blunt. Scuff these Jordans. You can say you hate me. You can call me crazy, but Don't touch my truck Skrrt Skrrt Don't touch my truck Skrrt Skrrt Don't touch my Woo, ooh, woo, ooh, woo, ooh Don't touch my truck (woo, ooh) Don't touch my truck
