My jokes

My mom is a chemistry teacher.

Mom: You can’t be attracted to something without it being attracted to you back.

Me: Tell that to my FUCKING CRUSH, BITCH!

Roses are red, violets are black, I traded my son for 10 Big Macs.

Cereal is like... breakfast soup made out of corn flakes.

Ketchup is like... a smoothie because of the tomato.

Coffee is like... a bean drink energizer.

My life is like... the shoe rack-

"This morning, I came out my front door to see my neighbor frantically trying to scrub off the word "PEDO" that had been spray-painted on his front window."

"What's been going on, John?" I asked.

"Fucking kids," came his mumbled reply.

The dirty bastard!

I stood in front of the mirror. "Joseph, I will love and protect you forever," my dick cooed. I looked down at it, a single crystalline tear sliding down my face. I was at peace.

Read my name. 👍🇮🇪

My dad was such a good man. RIP, Osama bin Laden.

So my mom sent a text saying, "I'm gonna need help carrying groceries when I get back." That was 3 months ago.

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...

Here is a story, my best friend was Chinese, his name was Chong-king. I took him to a restaurant one day and he said, "I am Chong-king." I said I know your name is Chong-king, within a few minutes he just randomly died making weird noises and turning blue by every second.

Anyone know what happened?

It’s important to establish a good vocabulary.

If I had known the difference between the words “antidote” and “anecdote,” one of my best friends would still be alive.

My therapist told me time heals wounds, so I stabbed him, and now we wait.

I know I've changed my name from tj to selfish king but know it's gunna be selfishking#781.

One day my kid with no arms came up to me and said, "Mom, what's dark humor?" I thought about it, then said, "Go wave to that blind person." He just looked at me, confused, but angry.

Your hairline shape is so badly shaped like a M, me and my friends thought it was McDonald's.

I'm funny but sad, I submit jokes you'll love. Look for my name in jokes you've read. Anyway.

What did the man with no hands get for his birthday? Gloves. Just kidding, he didn't have the chance to open the gifts.

What's the difference between a sports car and a pile of dead babies?

I don't have a sports car in my garage.

Dad: What's the difference between an ELEPHANT and a POSTBOX?

Son: I don't know.

Dad: I'd better not trust you with my post then.

What did the pelican say when he finished shopping?

"Put it in my bill."

My Mom said she's going to kill me if I don't stop using my computer.