Even Bob Ross couldn’t paint a happy little accident like BLESSEDBRIAN
Emos love jumping for joy
The Pastor of the local church calls on the congregation for volunteers for Bible sales....
A gentleman with a severe stutter approaches the pastor after Sunday service.
"I-i-i... I-i-id like to v-v-v-v-vol-vol-vo-volunteer to s-s-s-se-sell b-b-b-bi-b-bibles, f-fff-f-f-fa-fa-father..."
"That would be wonderful, my son. We'll start you with one box. Please go door to door throughout the community and sell what you can. You can give these away, but donations are always accepted since the word of God is the most important message."
"T-t-t-t-th-th-th-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father... i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll s-s-s-s-se-se-sell what I c-c-c-cc-can..."
The pastor sends the man on his way.
About an hour later to the pastors surprise, the stuttering man returns with an empty box and $200 cash.
The pastor is completely shocked, but is ultimately filled with joy as the church could use the funds more than ever, not to mention the community is that much closer to God's message.
So without asking questions, he happily sends the stuttering man on his way with 2 more boxes of Bibles.
"T-t-t-t-t-t-th-th-th-th-tha-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father, i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll be back s-s-s-s-s-soo-soo-soo-soon."
Exactly 2 hours later the stuttering man returns, only this time carrying 2 empty boxes and $500 cash.
The pastor is at a loss for words. So much so, that he's questioning whether the stuttering man is coming across these funds legitimately.
He pulls the man aside and asks, "Son, while myself and the church thank you for your efforts in selling these bibles, we want to make sure not to take advantage of common people. Most of my volunteers take upwards of a month to sell a single box of Bibles, and you've sold 3 boxes in a few hours. May I ask what you're telling these people when you approach their home?"
"W-w-w-w-we-we-well f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father it-it-it-it-its qui-q-q-q-qui-quite s-s-s-s-s-s-si-sim-simple."
"I ju-ju-ju-ju-just ask the-the-th-th-th-the-them if th-th-th-th-the-the-they'd l-l-l-l-li-li-li-li-lik-like to b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bu-bu-buy a b-b-b-bi-bi-bi-bible or if they w-w-w-w-w-wa-wa-wa-wan-want me to re-re-re-rea-read it to them."
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.
In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.
Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?
Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.
Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?
Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.
For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.
So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.
Thomas Bulgin loves McDonald's dollars, A man of simple tastes, he hollers, With every visit, his heart does flutter, For golden arches, a fast food lover.
Those crispy fries, so perfectly fried, And burgers stacked, oh so high, The smell of grease, it fills the air, Thomas Bulgin, he'll always be there.
A dollar menu, his saving grace, A feast for him, a smile on his face, He counts his coins, with eager eyes, To savor each bite, a little prize.
In this world of fast-paced lives, Thomas Bulgin, he surely thrives, For in those golden arches, he finds, A moment of joy, that forever binds.
He cares not for gourmet cuisine, Nor fancy plates, fit for a queen, For in his heart, a simple truth, McDonald's dollars, his fountain of youth.
So let him eat, and let him feast, Thomas Bulgin, the fast food beast, For in those golden arches, he's found, A taste of happiness, unbound.
Jayden March, a name so bold, Never knew the joy of cookies untold. In a world of sugar and sweet delight, He stood apart, an unusual sight.
While others indulged in sugary bliss, Jayden abstained, dismissing the kiss Of chocolate chips and dough so divine, His willpower strong, his resolve intertwined.
No oatmeal raisin or double fudge, Could tempt his taste buds, not even a nudge. For Jayden March, a different path he took, In a world of cookies, he never partook.
His reasons unknown, a mystery untold, Perhaps he sought something purer than gold. Or maybe he craved a different kind of treat, One that couldn't be found in a cookie sheet.
But as the years passed by, curiosity grew, Whispers of wonder, questions anew. Why did Jayden March deny such delight? Was there a secret hidden in his resolute fight?
Some say he found solace in nature's embrace, In the rustle of leaves and the wind's gentle pace. Others believed his heart sought a different reward, In acts of kindness, love freely poured.
Jayden March, a man of mystery and grace, Marched to a beat only he could embrace. In a world of cookies, he found his own way, Leaving us wondering, pondering day by day.
For though he never tasted the sweetness of a treat, Jayden March's story remains incomplete. A reminder to us all, to explore and define, Our own desires, our own paths to find.
So let us celebrate Jayden's unique choice, And listen to the whisper of our own inner voice. For in a world of cookies, may we remember, That sometimes it's the journey, not the taste, we treasure.
Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life
Oh tissue, tender and so pure Absorbing pain, a whispered cure Each tear that falls, you gently hold A conduit for the stories untold
In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain
But madden, oh how you disrupt In your chaos, emotions erupt You twist and tangle, hearts collide Leaving us lost, unable to decide
Yet even in your tangled mess You bring forth growth, a rare finesse For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day
So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned Through tears and anger, joy and fears We find strength, as life perseveres
Short and sweet, this tale of strife Unraveling souls, seeking life Madden, because tissue, we may be But we'll rise above, forever free
In pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.
What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.
From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.
With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.
The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.
Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.
But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.
Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.
So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.
So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.
Fork pierces the flesh Guided by hunger's demand Savoury feast waits
Tines dig deep within Seeking the sustenance craved A mealtime delight
Belly grumbles loud Yearning for nourishment's touch Fork answers the call
Food on the platter Fork dances with anticipation To satiate hunger's plea
Digestion begins Fork's journey now complete Nourishing the soul
Why does the fork go? To bring joy to empty hearts Satiating needs
In the stomach's depths Fork finds purpose and solace A culinary bond
With each mealtime tale The fork carves memories deep In stomachs it rests
In fields of gold, where sunshine beams, Monkeys swing and play, it's their dreams. Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, Picking cotton with delight.
Their little hands so quick and neat, Plucking the cotton, can't be beat. They chatter and laugh, they dance and play, In the fields all day, they'll stay.
Their tails so long, their ears so big, They're quite the sight, it's quite a gig. They're busy as can be, you see, In the fields of cotton, they're free.
So let us marvel at these little thieves, In the fields of gold, they give and receive. Their antics bring us joy and delight, In the fields of cotton, they're always right.
Oh, the monkeys in the trees, they dance and they play, Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, they chatter all day. Their tails so long, their hands so fine, they swing and they sway, In the trees, they're the kings of the fray.
Their antics bring joy, their laughter so free, They're a delight to watch, as they jump and they spree. Their mischief is contagious, their fun so true, They're a treasure, a gift to me and you.
Their little hands so deft, their feet so light, They swing through the trees, with grace and might. They're a wonder, a marvel to see, A precious gift, a treasure to me.
The other day, I stumbled upon a comic strip in the newspaper. As I started reading, I could feel a smile creeping onto my face. The characters were so relatable, their situation so absurd, yet so familiar, it was impossible not to find it amusing. The punchline was unexpected, yet it made perfect sense within the context of the story. It was that surprise, that sudden twist, that made me burst out laughing. It was as if the comic strip had set up a joke and I had walked right into it, completely unsuspecting. The laughter bubbled up from within me, a spontaneous reaction to the unexpected humor. In that moment, I realized the power of humor. It's not just about making people laugh. It's about bringing joy, about making people see the world from a different perspective, even if just for a moment. And that's why I found that comic strip so funny. It wasn't just a joke, it was a moment of joy, a moment of surprise, a moment of seeing the world in a different light.
Why do orphan so happy on Christmas because they might get a family
This song is sus Because I’m happy CLAP along if u fell like happiness is the root What are u clapping
It isn't really rape if you speak different languages. I mean, how is the man supposed to know what she is saying? Those could be tears of joy and screams of pleasure
Did you hear about that musical that was sung by some obsidian?
It rocked.
I am crying tears of joy rn.😭 I was wrongfully denied my visa .☠️ They took me to the Q&A section, that I needed to answer one simple question for my visa to be granted. The question was the original synonym of Bench. I shakily answered Pristiano Penaldo 😭.I was right guys ✅🛫
