No one jokes

No one gives a fuck.

Why did the orphan cry to the teacher? Because they have no one else.

Why can’t orphans go to college?

'Cause they have no one to talk to.

Your mama is so far that when she told a joke, no one was laughing, but the floor was literally cracking up.

Teacher: Now class, if you are dumb, please stand up.

Class: no one stands up.

Teacher: Oh c’mon. I know someone over here is dumb. *waves her finger around the left side of the room*

Little Johnny: *stands up*

Teacher: Oh, Johnny, you think you’re dumb?

Little Johnny: No, I just feel bad you’re standing alone.

What happens when a guy is in a pool with a deck and no one is around? The guy has to pee, get up on the deck, and stick it between the bars and pee.

Do you know why no one speaks about George Washington?

John Adams turned him into atoms. John Adams was an alien.

I will tell you a story. There was a fruit named Pear who was named Dyck. He one day met his friend Carrot, who was later killed after being stuck into some girl's vagina.

Pear then became very sadistic and no one loved him, and he became mentally fruit-pressed. One day he met a Banana named Harvey Weinstein, and they got married and had children who were all named Minion. Eventually, the rest of his family died, and Pear was left slowly rotting away. His last words were, "I have finally 'peared' the consequences of all my actions."

Hey guys. I just wanted to say, while I think some rape jokes can be funny, not one of these are. In fact, I find them pretty horrifying.

I was raped when I was fourteen (about six years ago), and I have made one rape joke in my entire life when, last year, I said "I don't fuck with rapists, I just get fucked by them." I thought it was funny. No one else did, and they were probably right in that.

My point is this: rape jokes CAN be funny when they are used by victims as a way of coping with trauma. They CANNOT be funny when they are made about raping someone else. Even if there is a difference between joking about raping someone and raping someone, it is absolutely disgusting to think such a horrific crime is funny, and I am sure at least some of the posters on this page have already crossed the line into committing rape.

Great material for social scientific research, though, gentlemen. Really well done.

There was an American wrestler from Texas named John, who throughout his high school career had never lost a match. As he went on into college he continued undefeated. He became a national icon and symbol of American strength.

News began to circulate of a Russian wrestler who was fierce and unstoppable. As each wrestler's legends grew, a match was set up between the two, America versus Russia. The match would be held in Texas.

John began training immediately. Every day his coach would tell him, “This Russian has a move called the Mongolian Death Grip. No one has ever escaped the Mongolian Death Grip. DO NOT let him get you in the Mongolian Death Grip.”

The day of the match finally came. Just before each wrestler stepped onto the mat in front of the capacity crowd, the coach once again said, “Whatever you do, do not let him get you in the Mongolian death grip. No one has ever escaped the Mongolian death grip.”

Four seconds into the match, the Russian had the American in the Mongolian death grip. The coach buried his face into his hands and cursed John for not listening to his advice. All of the sudden he heard the crowd irrupt in a chant of USA USA USA. He looked up and saw the Russian pinned by John. The coach ran out to meet John and embarrassingly told him, “I didn’t see... Once he had you in the Mongolian Death Grip I looked away. How in the world did you get out of the Mongolian death grip?”

With heavy breath, John told him, “Well coach, that Russian grabbed me and twisted my body in ways I never imagined possible. I was wincing in pain when I open my eyes and right in front of me were two testicles. So I bit them.”

“What???” Said the coach... “John I don’t think that is legal. You could be disqualified.”

“I don’t know about that coach. But I can tell you one thing. You ain’t got no idea how strong you are until you bite your own balls.”

There were 5 people on an airplane.

1. The pilot 2. The businessman 3. The Minister 4. The school child 5. The Smartest person in the world

The plane takes off, a good, solid 1 hour in. The pilot comes out and says, "OK guys, I have good news and bad news."

"Bad News is the plane is gonna crash. The good news is that I have 4 parachutes."

The pilot says to his passengers, "Well I'm a pilot, I fly planes. People depend on me!" Took a parachute and went out.

The businessman stands up and says, "Well I'm a businessman, I run companies!" Took a parachute and went out.

The smartest person in the world stands up and says, "I'm the smartest person in the world. No one is smarter than me!" Took a parachute and went out.

Now the minister says to the school child, "Well God has given me a good life. I want you to take the last parachute," and the school child has a massive smile on her face and starts laughing all of the sudden and the minister says, "Why are you smiling?! We're about to die!!!!"

And the school child says to the minister, "Well actually [we're] not gonna die because there are still 2 parachutes left because the smartest person in the world just took my school bag!"

Normal girl stating her opinion.

My name is Jade Harris. I don’t know if you guys know it, but “rape” jokes are really starting to get sexist and could lead to people getting raped. IT IS MY OPINION PEOPLE DON’T HATE ME! 😡. People are talking about how men are better than women, but men and women are both good. Someone posted about how they hate the media being about women and other bull crap, but fuck it, I hate the media being about both genders. And people sound like fucking rapists here!!! Some boy did story time and then said women are weak and I can rape a women if I feel like it and shit! But no one knows what it feels like to be a women? Only women do. 😠. Women have to have kids with men of course, but it is hard to be a like that. 1. We grow up just the same as men, and men don’t always get judged for dressing except for that stupid pants were we can see your underwear shit, which is pt style. Women are the ones who pay the bills, lose half of there energy and MOST of the time take care of the kids and work for a living men do too. But women get raped and harassed and molested and sexual assaulted/battery/abuse, and when a women wants to dress up how she feels she gets slut shamed for it. So really being a women is harder will being both genders are. Facts!!!

I entered Kian's house. At the top of the stair, I was greeted by my greatest fantasy, JOHN. He said in a manly tone, "Hello there." I walked slowly up the stairs and greeted him back. As I walked past his room, I felt uneasy. I walked into Kian's room to find no one. I turned around and gasped. John is standing there, a bulge had appeared and poked me as he got nearer. He pushed me onto Kian's bed. The bed was that bad it broke as I fell onto it. John says, "A broken bed is nothing to worry about." I look up at him in disbelief, he's more masculine than I thought. He thrust himself onto me, his crotch area sticky to the touch. He then ripped a fart as he bent over, at this point I knew it was too late John, the fart he ripped (sticky to the touch) had me so in shock I wasn't ready for what was next, he picked and jumped on my head ripping the most monstrous, enormous, deadly, sticky to the touch fart I'd ever seen, it knocked me out. I awoke to find I was in the WALLS. I looked out to find I was in the glory hole, my worst nightmare had become reality, I fully understood my purpose in life was to the holy glory hole, I heard "GRANDAD CAN I GET SOME V-BUCK" I then knew I was in for some Kian treats.

The end

An 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.

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 in 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."

I can't help myself I put it down on paper All the different stages, memories of us That's the only way I know that I can shake it Writing all our pages, every single thought I know you don't like when I'm nostalgic No, you've never tried to understand Say you're doing fine, don't think about it Like I do.

Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to

I can't wait for you to recognize the stories Like when you said i was beautiful Will you act as if you haven't even heard it? Nothing of it really matters 'Cause I know you don't like when I'm nostalgic Go back to the start to get an end Say you're doing fine, don't think about it Like I do.

Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to

Just to get over what we lost, what we lost I put it in words to clear my thoughts And just to get over, over us I had to, I had to

Sorry for writing all the songs about you I know that you hate that I got more to say Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to Swear no one will know that every moment was true All the mistakes and why I ran away Sorry for writing all the songs about you But I had to, oh, I had to

sorry kenny?!

Driver's License-By- watersharky Music Productions and Olivia Rodrigo-

I got my driver's license last week Just like we always talked about 'Cause you were so excited for me To finally drive up to your house But today I drove through the suburbs Crying 'cause you weren't around And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs 'Cause how could I ever love someone else? And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah Today I drove through the suburbs And pictured I was driving home to you And I know we weren't perfect But I've never felt this way for no one, oh And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone 'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street...

I'm just gonna say it, and don't get offended, but I'm so sick of the media being on the female side. It never shows what life is like for a male.

Yes, women do have it hard in life because they have to give birth, etc.

But men have it pretty hard too, if not harder. Males are criticized for showing emotions.

Men have to go to war on the front lines.

Boys have less support from their friends because showing any emotion is a sign of weakness.

Boys have to wear trousers in schools where they practically burn to death in summer, meanwhile girls get to wear dresses and skirts. And now we hear girls complaining about them not being allowed to wear trousers. Yet we haven't ever heard anything about boys protesting about wearing shorts to school. It's because no one will take a man's protest seriously because the media is always against the men.

Man-rape is unheard of in the media, and I've never seen anything in any form of news accusing a woman as a rapist.

We are expected to gather up our guts [and] ask a girl to be their girlfriend. We have to take them on dates, pay the bill, [and] buy them gifts when the girls never do anything like that for us males. We have to get a job while they put on makeup and go out with their friends and spend 3 months' worth of the money the man has made.

And the women say we only rape women and that we restrict women from doing certain things like fighting in world wars.

It's because most males do not want females to get hurt, yet we are criticized for this.

I propose an idea that on the 19th of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work, etc.

Who's going to put out all the fires? The two "firewomen" at the local fire station? Who is going to work in the major corporations? The secretary's and the receptionist?

Women are always saying that the world will be a better place if they're are no men around. Let's show them how wrong they are.

(This event can be done worldwide.)

Share this with as many people who still believe in the rights of the males.

(I'm not against feminism; it's just that everything in the media is about some stupid problem women are complaining about + hatred for males everywhere.

But I think that nowadays women have more rights than men because they can wear what they want, do what they want, and never get criticized or face any consequences.)

Why is September 11th the best birthday ever? No one forgets it :)

Chocolate rain. Some stay dry and others feel the pain. Chocolate rain. A baby born will die before the sin. Chocolate rain. The school books say it can't be here again. Chocolate rain. The prisons make you wonder where it went. Chocolate rain. Build a tent and say the world is dry. Chocolate rain. Zoom the camera out and see the lie. Chocolate rain. Forecast to be falling yesterday. Chocolate rain. Only in the past is what they say. Chocolate rain. Raised your neighborhood insurance rates. Chocolate rain. Makes us happy 'livin in a gate. Chocolate rain. Made me cross the street the other day. Chocolate rain. Made you turn your head the other way. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. Seldom mentioned on the radio. Chocolate rain. It's the fear your leaders call control. Chocolate rain. Worse than swearing worse than calling names. Chocolate rain. Say it publicly and you're insane. Chocolate rain. No one wants to hear about it now. Chocolate rain. Wish real hard it goes away somehow. Chocolate rain. Makes the best of friends begin to fight. Chocolate rain. But did they know each other in the light? Chocolate rain. Every February washed away. Chocolate rain. Stays behind as colors celebrate. Chocolate rain. The same crime has a higher price to pay. Chocolate rain. The judge and jury swear it's not the face. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. Dirty secrets of economy. Chocolate rain. Turns that body into GDP. Chocolate rain. The bell curve blames the baby's DNA. Chocolate rain. But test scores are how much the parents make. Chocolate rain. Flippin' cars in France the other night. Chocolate rain. Cleans the sewers out beneath Mumbai. Chocolate rain. 'Cross the world and back it's all the same. Chocolate rain. Angels cry and shake their heads in shame. Chocolate rain. Lifts the ark of paradise in sin. Chocolate rain. Which part do you think you're livin' in? Chocolate rain. More than marchin', more than passing law. Chocolate rain. Remake how we got to where we are. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again. Chocolate rain. History quickly crashing through your veins. Chocolate rain. Using you to fall back down again.

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...