ID jokes

Hey JFK, what would you do if you were in a fight?

JFK: Well, I'd give them a piece of my mind.

What did Chris Brown say when he saw Rihanna?

"I'd hit that."

A man walks into the library. “Hello ma’am, I’d like to borrow a book about committing suicide.” The librarian replies, “No, you won’t give it back.”

I'd tell you a joke about unemployed people, but none of them work.

A guy walks into a bar and sees a 1-foot piano player over by the door. He goes over to the bartender, orders a beer, and says, “Man, how’d you get such a short piano player?” The bartender says in response, “There’s a genie in the back of the bar.” The man finishes his beer and runs to the back, looking for the genie. He finds it and says, “I wish for a million bucks.” Suddenly, a million ducks fly out of the bar. The customer looks confused and goes back to the bartender and says, “What just happened?” The bartender replies, “The genie is half deaf, do you really think I’d ask for a 12-inch pianist?”

Father: "I don't trust you. You poured your seed in my daughter's belly."

Son: "But Paah, you can't fire me."

Father: "You're lucky you're my brother too, or I'd kill you."

What turns red, blue then white? The last person that I'd strangle.

I'd hit you, but I don't want to go to jail for animal abuse.

A Blonde walks into a hospital claiming that everywhere she touches hurts. So she goes into the examination room and the doctor says, "Okay, I'd like you to point to wherever it hurts." So the Blonde pokes her cheek and says, "Here. Ow." She then pokes her arm and says, "Here. Ow." She then repeats this with different parts of her body until the doctor finally says that she should stop.

The doctor says, "I know what's happened to you." "What's happened to me?" The Blonde says, concerned. The doctor simply replies, "You have a broken finger."

If I were an object in this world, I'd be a glass! Because if you leave me when I'm too close to the edge, I will likely shatter and break.

If I was a pizza topping, I would be pineapple! Because everybody doubts me.

I'm a star! Because one of these days, I'm going to crash and burn...

If I could choose what creature I come back as after I die, I'd be a panda, because people would give a shit if I went extinct.

I'm like the sun; I'm painful to look at.

If I was a food, I would be chopped liver because nobody likes me.

I'm like an eggshell... broken and empty.

If I was a mythical creature, I'd be a unicorn! Because nobody believes in me.

I'm like a flashlight with old batteries inside because my inner light died a long time ago.

My soul is a raisin because it's dried up, shriveled, and not everyone likes it.

I'm like the moon because you only get to see one side of me.

I'm like the moon because as the month progresses, my life becomes covered more and more by darkness.

I'm like an extremely powerful fan! Because I push everyone away.

I'm like a disposable camera! People use me once and then just throw me away.

I'm like a shitty book cover... because people think they have the right to judge and label me before they read my pages.

My brain and body is essentially a really old married couple that can't afford to go through with the divorce, and now they are stuck in a toxic relationship they are desperate to escape, but the more they try, the more they sink into the quicksand that is my depression and anxiety.

Help me....

A politician dies. So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.

"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"

"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...

And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?

"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...

And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.

The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"

"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."

I'd tell a joke about my abusive dad, but I only remember the punch line.

My neighbor has been mad at his wife for sunbathing nude. I personally am on the fence.

I'd rate the food in Afghanistan a 9/11. That shit was bomb.