Life jokes
What's the difference between an orphan and a baseball?
One gets picked for games.
Is your mom a virgin?
Mine is.
How am I alive?
You tell me.
Louie being born.
I tried to calculate 3/(my life), and I kept getting zero.
What happens when there's ten people in one house and they all have to shit and there's one bathroom?
It's a motherfucking shitshow party!
At weddings, old people tell kids, "You're next!"
At funerals, little kids tell old people, "You're next!"
Beast joke ever: my life... Oh wait, I don't have one.
What's one advantage of being an orphan?
Nobody can make mama jokes about you. 🌚
My sad ass life.
Life is like a raisin cookie you expected to be chocolate.
Disappointing.
I saw a little boy sitting on a curb wearing rags.
I said: "Aww, are you an orphan?"
And he responded with "Yeah. What gave me away?"
And I said: "Your parents."
My dignity to live.
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.
My life is a lot like a game of Black Jack.
I always hit on 16, then get busted.
Every size bag of chips is a family size for orphans.
I was walking and I saw a girl crying, and she told me to take her dollhouse and I asked why. She said because I don't have one.
Sometimes I get jealous when my phone dies.
Why? You ask.
Because it only takes one charge to bring it back to life.
Yo life got no meaning, just like your dad when he left. Like if it's a good one.
Why does this exist?
I hear you like funny people. In fact, my whole life's a joke!