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A German priest went to America for a few months. Unfortunately for him, he did not speak the best English. He stayed with a beautiful, young single woman who worked at a nearby orphanage.

Every day, he visited her in the orphanage, and he always brought her small gifts, and of course to the young children.

The young woman thought the priest was flirting with him, and she knew he was not married. She left that thought in the back of her mind for a few weeks.

A few weeks later, she finally brought up her nerve to ask him. She asked him why he always visited her, and why all the gifts for her and the children.

Of course, due to his bad English, he struggled a bit with his sentence, but he said in his thick German accent, "Vell, I visit you and your, your littles, because the kind girls here are very beautiful and cute.

She was quite amused, and blushed a bit. The man was also a bit nervous, and appeared to want to leave her office. The Priest then excused himself, and went to read the orphans a bedtime story.

He then muttered to himself, "Ach, she's catching on to me! Stupid! Zey are called little girls and boys, not child boys and girls."

Q: What is the difference between two bottles of Whiskey and 2 pretty feminist girls?

A: You don't leave the bottles in the cold and dark forest after you and your 9 friends are finished with them.

A teacher wanted to teach her students about self-esteem, so she asked anyone who thought they were stupid to stand up. One kid stood up, and the teacher was surprised. She didn’t think anyone would stand up, so she asked him, “Why did you stand up?” He answered, “I didn’t want to leave you standing up by yourself.”

Dave got a new job at the suicide hotline.

The manager shows him to his desk and Dave has a seat.

The manager says, "Remember! Your job is to make sure that the person at the other end of the line does not kill himself, no matter what! That's the one thing you have to do!"

Dave says "No problem! I will do exactly what you just told me!" and the manager leaves him to his job.

A few minutes, later Dave's phone rings.

"Hello?" Dave answers. No response for a few seconds, then a voice appears.

"My wife cheated on me," a man says. The man on the other end of the line is clearly depressed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dave says.

"I found out that she's been doing it for months; she says I don't treat her well enough. She's filing for divorce and threatening to take the kids from me. I don't know what to do. I just took up drinking and gambling, the pain goes away at first but it always comes back. I don't think I can even afford to see a psychiatrist; money is tight as it always is. I wish I could manage my finances better... I just don't see any way out. I think the only thing I can do that makes sense is to just kill myself."

Dave pauses for a moment, thinks, and then he asks:

"Wouldn't it make more sense to kill her?"

A man walks into a bar and asks the bartender, “Are there any girls here?” The bartender says, “No, only women.” The man then leaves.

The boss wondered why one of his most valued employees was absent, but had not phoned in.

Needing to have an urgent work problem resolved, he dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted by a child's whisper, "Hello."

"Is your Mummy home?" he asked.

"Yes," whispered the small voice.

"May I talk with her?"

The child whispered, "No."

Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your Daddy there?"

"Yes."

"May I talk with him?"

Again the small voice whispered, "No."

Hoping there was someone with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, "Is anyone else there?"

"Yes," whispered the child, "a policeman."

Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May I speak with the policeman?"

"No, he's busy," whispered the child.

"Busy doing what?"

"Talking to the ambulancemen and the Fireman," came the whispered answer.

Growing more worried as he heard a loud noise through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, "What is that noise?"

"A helicopter," answered the whispering voice.

"What is going on there?" demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.

Again, whispering, the child answered, "The search team just landed a helicopter."

Alarmed, confused, and a little frustrated, the boss asked, "What are they searching for?"

Still whispering, the young voice replied with a muffled giggle..."Me!"

I wasn't going to tell another emo joke, but I didn't want to leave anyone hanging.

Old man goes to church

One Sunday morning an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn out old hat and an equally worn out Bible.r> The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed with expensive clothes and accessories.

As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.

As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship." The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."

"I did," replied the old cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church "

A Chinese Drunk and a Jewish Drunk are sitting together on a park bench...

After finishing his drink the Jew takes his bottle and *smashes* it over the head of the Chinese drunk.

"What the hell was that for?" ask the Chinese man, rubbing his head.

"That was for Pearl Harbor!" replies the Jewish drunk.

"Pearl Harbor? That was the Japanese! I'm Chinese!" he exclaims in return.

"Eh, Chinese, Japanese, Korean... you're all the same to me," the Jewish man explains as he gets up to leave.

The next day, the two drunks are back on the same park bench. The Chinese drunk suddenly takes his bottle, and *smashes* it over the head of the Jew.

"Why the hell did you do that?" the Jewish man stammers.

"That was for the Titanic!" explains the Chinese drunk.

"The Titanic? What are you talking about? No one attacked it, it sunk when it hit an iceberg!" the Jew replies.

"Eh, Iceberg, Goldberg, Greenberg.... you're all the same to me," the Chinese drunk happily retorts.

Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.

His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.

A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.

No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.

In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.

With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.

Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.

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.

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.