Kiss Jokes

Me: I kiss my mom on the lips Friend: Uh, I guess that's somewhat nor- Me: Lower lips Friend: I gotta go

Momma's House-By-watersharky Productions and Dustin Lynch- I see your face on every street, every corner, couple trees Even got her name on 'em I feel your love, I hear your laugh, got them take me way on back Hurt me memories, I don't want 'em Up and down the boulevard In and out of every bar I'd burn this whole town down Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground Baby, I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house I would start it where we started, at the downtown party Where you kissed my lips and stole my beer The city park in the dark where we looked up at the stars Watched them fireworks pop last year It started under that Texaco sign where you said goodbye I'd get some gas and drop a match right there I'd burn this whole town down Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground Baby, I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house Fire red flames, sunsets in the sky Going out, staying in, staying up long nights Now I'm waking up alone, wishing I could move on Blocked your number in my phone, thought it help but it don't I'd burn this whole town down Pick a spot, dig a hole, put them ashes in the ground Baby, I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house Damn girl, why'd you have to break it like that Leaving pieces of my shattered heart scattered like glass I'd burn this whole town down If it wasn't for my momma's house, my momma's house

What leaves a bigger memory than a passionate kiss?

a stab wound

Peaches-REMAKE-By-Justin Beiber and watersharky Music Productions- I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it) And I see you (oh), the way I breathe you in (in), it's the texture of your skin I wanna wrap my arms around you, baby, never let you go, oh And I say, oh, there's nothing like your touch It's the way you lift me up, yeah And I'll be right here with you 'til the end I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it) You ain't sure yet, but I'm for ya All I could want, all I can wish for Nights alone that we miss more And days we save as souvenirs There's no time, I wanna make more time And give you my whole life I left my girl, I'm in Mallorca Hate to leave her, call it torture Remember when I couldn't hold her Left her baggage for Rimowa I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it) I get the feeling, so I'm sure (sure) Hand in my hand because I'm yours I can't, I can't pretend, I can't ignore you're right for me Don't think you wanna know just where I've been, oh Done being distracted The one I need is right in my arms (oh) Your kisses taste the sweetest with mine And I'll be right here with you 'til end of time I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it) I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) (I get my light right from the source, yeah, yeah) I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it) I got my peaches out in Georgia (oh, yeah, shit) I get my weed from California (that's that shit) I took my chick up to the North, yeah (badass bitch) I get my light right from the source, yeah (yeah, that's it)

A man with a gun and a sword walks into a bar, sees a girl, and falls in love with her. Man: Hey, you are one beautiful girl. Will You be my girlfriend? Girl: No, because you have a gun and a sword. Man: But I am already in love with you. And then the man leaves to get the girl flowers and candy. The girl is glad that the has gone, until thirty minutes later, when he shows up again. Man: Here are some flowers for you, beautiful girl. And the girl throws the flowers in his face, and then everyone in the bar laughs, even the bartender. Man: And here is some candy. And the girl throws the candy in his face, and everyone in the bar laughs again, and some teenagers walking down the street see it as well, and then they start laughing too. One of the teenagers says "Hahaha, that is so funny. Seeing a man give a girl candy, and the girl throwing it in his face to show him that she hates him." Girl: I hate you, ugly man! Man: Bartender, can I get some candy for my girl? The bartender laughs when he hears that, and then he says "Are you crazy? We don't serve-" And then the man shoots the bartender with his gun, and stabs him with his sword. An old man walking down the street can't believe what he just saw. So he calls the police to arrest the man who killed the bartender. 999 Service Guy: 999, what's your emergency? Old man: I just walked past a bar, and I saw a man shoot and stab the bartender. Can you please get the police to arrest him? Tell them he is the man with a gun and a sword I his bag. 999 Service Guy: Okay, no worries. 1 Hour later, the first man tries to dance the tango with the girl, and the girl kicks him in the leg, and then he tries to kiss her, and she punches him in the face. Guy sitting at a table in the bar: That man is crazy. Trying to kiss a girl who hates him. And the police show up. First Policeman: Which man has a gun and a sword in his bag? The girl points to the man and says "This man." Second Policeman: Let's arrest him. Man: No, wait! I can explain. Third Policeman: Get in the back of the car. When the police get to the Police Station with the man, the first policeman says "You will stay in prison for 10 years." One week later, the man breaks the bars and escapes prison. The police see him and run after him. Third Policeman: Come back here! The man doesn't listen, and he keeps running. So the police shoot him and he dies. And instead of saying rest in peace on his gravestone, it says rest in pieces.

The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"

Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!

The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.

For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!

The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!

In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.

"The little horse wins!"

"Lath, an easy winner!"

"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"

People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.

Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.

"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."

Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.

A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.

"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"

Agba leaned forward in his saddle.

There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."

How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.

The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.

Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.

He had kept his word!

For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.

The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in

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..."