Why did Shakespeare only write using quills?
Pencils confused him: 2b or not 2b.
Did you hear about the guy who drank invisible ink? He's at the hospital waiting to be seen.
Why is hangman always done in black ink?
To make it more realistic.
Friend: Did your tattoos hurt?
Me: Nah, not really.
Friend: What did they feel like?
Me: 7th grade.
Friend: 😶😶😨😰😰😰😨
When my son was little, he loved to draw. Although he would always rip up the paper whenever there was one little slip up. Too bad he became a tattoo artist.....
Why shouldn’t you write with a broken pen? Because it’s pointless
What do orphans like about tattoos? They stick around.
I now know what my first tattoo should be, zebra stripes! Not like anyone would know the difference between them.
After long consideration, I've decided to get a zebra tattoo on my wrist. Not like anyone will notice the difference.
What game can an emo play on their wrists without an ink pen?
Tic-tac-toe.
I called the suicide hotline, and he suggested I draw on myself to distract myself.
I replied I'd get ink poisoning.
Wouldn't recommend, the police came.
I will remember my classmate's last words: "Ahh, my pen's ink spilled on my computer!"
Three unlucky jungle explorers were captured by a band of cannibals. Whilst being tied to three respective stakes, the chieftain announces that the hapless adventurers were about to die.
"After you're dead, you'll be skinned. The skin will be used to increase our canoe armada, and the rest of you will be food for us and our families."
This announcement was met with gasps of despair from the bound trio.
"There is one small favor I can offer you," the chief went on. "We'll let you choose your own method of death from what we have captured from other explorers."
Some of the tribal members begin walking by, displaying various implements of war and death.
The first explorer chose a crusty-looking musket. Thankfully, the powder load still fired, and he was dispatched without much fuss.
The second chose a knife and quickly drew it across his throat.
Both carcasses were hauled off by various tribesmen.
The third explorer stood there resolute and deep in thought.
After a few moments, the chieftain said, "There is no escape, you need to decide now, or I'll decide for yo..."
"Do you have a fountain pen in any of that junk?" the explorer interrupted?
Baffled, the chieftain sent two of his men to rummage. They came back bearing the pen and a bottle of ink.
When the explorer noticed the ink was Noodler's Baystate Blue, his grin spread from ear to ear.
Gathered round the explorer, spears in hand, the cannibals looked on as he was released and set to work filling the pen with ink.
Confused, the chief began to speak, "I'm afraid we have no paper, and even if you wrote a final letter, we'd have no way of sending it anywh..."
Cackling with triumphant glee, the explorer raised the pen into the air and began ramming it into his torso, nib first, again and again. He then fell upon the ground gasping a death rattle.
Horrified, the chief drew close as the man beckoned him for one final word.
"But why this painful death? When you had so many other more merciful options?" the chief asked.
Laughing, the man gasped his last statement into the chief's ear, "You'll make no boats from me now, and your mouths will be blue for months!"
I live inside my own world of make-believe. Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities. I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach. Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep. I love everything. Fire's spreading all around my room. My world's so bright. It's hard to breathe, but that's alright. Hush, shh.
Tape my eyes open to force reality (oh no, no). Why can't you just let me eat my weight in glee? I live inside my own world of make-believe. Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities. Some days I feel skinnier than all the other days, And some days I can't tell if my body belongs to me. I love everything. Fire's spreading all around my room. My world's so bright. It's hard to breathe, but that's alright. Hush, shh.
I wanna taste your content. Hold your breath and feel the tension. Devils hide behind redemption. Honesty is a one-way gate to hell. I wanna taste consumption. Breathe faster to waste oxygen. Hear the children sing aloud. It's music 'til the wick burns out. Hush.
Just wanna be carefree lately, yeah. Just kicking up daisies. Got one too many quarters in my pockets. Count 'em like the four-leaf clovers in my locket. Untied laces, yeah. Just tripping on daydreams. Got dirty little lullabies playing on repeat. Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep.
Why did the pen stop writing?
'Cause the pen wasn't very dependable.
I brought a new pen that can write underwater. It can also write other words.
Why did the farmer name his pig Ink?
Because he kept on running out of the pen.
Sans: I like eating ketchup, don't believe me? It's ASRIEL as it gets!
UT Sans to UT pap: You FORGHETTIE the spaghetti!!!
Ink sans: umm lust? That's INKAPPROPRIATE!
Fell sans: I hate these double standards...if you burn a body at a crematorium you're doing "a good job," do it at home and your "destroying evidence."
Error sans: Every time you make a typo, the errorists win.
What do pigs and ink have in common?
They both go in a pen.
Did you hear about the guy who got a tattoo of an octopus?
He got inked up.
