Make jokes
Bible Verse of The Day - For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.
—Romans 8:15-16
Today, my mother was making breakfast. As she was tired, my brother asked if there was anything to do today.
She responded with a list:
- Take out the trash.
- Clean your room.
- Make lunch and be sure to butter the electrical sockets.
That’s all sweetie!
You make the juice go through my power brick.
What does a serial killer make for breakfast?
Scrambled legs and toes.
How do you make a tissue dance? You put a little boogie in it.
My wife wanted to make a joke about domestic abuse, but I beat her to it.
Your eyebrows could make the bushes outside feel jealous.
What does a baby and a hand grenade have in common?
They both make noise when you throw them.
My sister argued with me that you can't make a car out of spaghetti. You should have seen her face when I drove pasta!
A guy stuffed some cigarettes up his eyes thinking it would make him see colors.
The next day, he could see only one color... black.
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...
Yo hairline is so long it makes the Titanic look tiny.
When does a joke become a dad joke? When it leaves you and never comes back.
Why can't Indians play football? Because every time they take a corner, they make a shop.
What do parents tell little boys to make them behave?
"Be good, or when you're asleep, Michael Jackson will get you!"
Why did the cat cross the road?
To make a catastrophy on the road.
Whoever stole my Microsoft Office account, I'll make you pay. You have my word!
Three people explored the jungles, one was from France, one from Britain, and the other from America.
While exploring, they were captured by the tribe living there. The tribesmen told the three, "You three have invaded our territory, so we must kill you and use your bodies to create canoes. However, we aren't that heartless, so we'll let you choose your deaths."
So the French guy asked for a gun, pointed to his head, and said "Viva la France!" and shot himself. The Britain guy requested poison and said, "For the Queen!" and drank the poison. Lastly, the American asked for a spoon. The tribesmen were confused but still gave him the spoon. When the American got the spoon, he started stabbing himself, "Try make a canoe out of this one!"
Want to know how a joke becomes a dad joke? Just wait for it to leave you and never come back.
How do you make holy water?
You boil the hell out of it.