your mum is so slow it took her 9 months to make a joke
Why shouldn't you make fun of burn victims Because they've already been roasted
How do you make a cat sound like a dog? Pour gasoline on it then light it on fire and it will go "WOOF" How do you make a dog sound like a cat? Put it in the deep freeze until frozen solid, then run it through an electric saw and it will go "MMMRROWWWWWW"
my girlfriend wanted a marriage just like a fairy tale. fair enough. i gave her a loaf of bread and left her in the forest, telling her we can get married once she makes her way out.
Once a man goes to a restaurant.then, he was waiting until the waitress comes & tells him that they don't have food. he was grumpy but the waitress make him relaxing by unbuttoning her pants and undressing her panties and uncovering clothes from her pussy until everything get striped then she say to him:"good meal".
Seeing one of her students making faces at others in the playground, Mrs. Matthews stopped to gently reprove the child. Smiling sweetly the teacher said, "When I was a child, I was told if I made ugly faces I would stay like that." The student looked up and replied, "Well, you canβt say you werenβt warned, Mrs. Matthews."
mum: why are roses red? child: stop, mum, you never make jokes. mum: i made you.
In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.
"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.
In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.
But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.
So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.
And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.
In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.
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.
Whatβs the hardest part about making vegetable soup?
Put the wheel wheelchair in the pot
All these people on here making me wish I knew them irl
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.
Roses are red, Violets are blue, Your laughter's melody, Makes my world anew.
How do you make someone in Africa disappointed
Sing raindrops keep falling on my head
