Paint jokes
What does Kurt have in common with painters?
They paint walls.
How many babies does it take to paint a wall?
Depends on how hard you throw them.
Why did Bob Ross die?
Because the paint brush stabbed him.
I hate how politically correct the world is these days, you can't even say "black paint."
You have to say, "Leroy, please paint that wall!"
Are you a toaster? 'Cause I wanna take a bath with you.
Are you a knife? 'Cause you make me wanna KMS.
Are you a painting? 'Cause I hang you.
Are you the flu? 'Cause you make me wanna hurl.
Are you a newspaper? 'Cause you have new problems every day.
Are you the ground? 'Cause I'm six feet deep in you ;)
In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat.
With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.
Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see.
Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.
Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires.
They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.
Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air.
Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.
Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas.
In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.
And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star.
Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.
If half of Stephen Hawking's house was painted red and half was painted blue, what color were the stairs?
He didn't have any.
God, people are so sensitive these days. You can't even say, "Paint the wall black," you have to say, "Jamal, could you paint the wall?"
So I went to a church the other day and I asked my friend, "Is that painting of Jesus and is it through the wall with one with three nails?" Oh wait, I wasn’t even Jesus, he’s not doing the T post that he invented.
What’s the difference between Hitler and Steven Hawking?
Nothing, they're both dead, one painted the walls and the other committed suicide by pressing ALT + F4.
So I painted my laptop black, hoping it would run faster... Now it doesn't work.
I asked a black man on the street if a white person paints their face black, it’s considered racist, but if a black person paints their face white, will the cops treat them better?
What do Bob Ross's painting and the orphanage have in common?
They're both filled with happy little accidents.
How many dead babies does it take to paint my room?
It depends how many bullets you have.
I went to the orphans to paint a picture of their parents so they can actually talk to them.
Yes, sir.
Four big guys and they grab on my thighs. Blow up my guts like the 4th of July. If they keep fuckin' my butt then I might just cry. Poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.
He lick my dick and the cum start sprayin'. Charging up my dick I'ma go super saiyan. When he cum the fuckin' booty I don't do much playing. Then I whispered in his ear, like hey are you stayin'? He said yeah I'm not leavin'.
I guess he George Floyd, cause always leavin'. Not breathin' he chew on my dick like a baby. That's teathin' I'm fuckin' a nigga I think it's named Steven. Hawkin' f*ck him 'til he ain't walkin', dick stone-cold call him BBC. Austin It's a booty massacre when I visit him in Boston. Bought him new titties I don't care what they costin'.
Bitch, hop on the dick do a split. Shout out Lil Baby. My dick is as real as it gets, I'm not fuckin' on him if he don't have tits. I'm catchin' his balls like my name Kyle Bitz.
There's four Big guys, they're grabin' on my thighs. They blow my guts like the 4th of July. If he keep fuckin' my butt then I might cry. There's poop and semen sprayin' on my eyes.
Yes sir, that is a fact tho, take out my dick slip it in his asshole. Swinging my dick through the air like a lasso. Painted his face like Apollo Pocasso (ugh). But I'm not a very good artist, f*ck 'em all good 'til that. Nigga farted planted my seeds in his ass like a garden. The way I play with balls, you should call me James Harden.
Yeah, DigBar is elite, there's four big guys and I'm takin' their meat. I eat the boy's butt, Then I chase him with skeet. And I charge for booty, I promise DigBar Isn't cheap. And I count dudes when I sleep, not sheep, get up in my sheets. And I'm beatin' on my meat.
Bitch. We got four big guys and they grab on my thighs. And they gon' bust on my eyes.
Ex Of Johnnys: I have a question.
Johnny: What?
Ex Of Johnnys: Am I pretty?
Johnny: Yes ofc jesus made everybody wonderfully!
Ex: Awhh!
Johnny: But whoever made you was painting Thomas the Train while making your face.
Little Johnny likes to play with toy guns.
Little Johnny paints them black.
Little Johnny went to a gun store.
Little Johnny made a big mess.
The cemetery people were getting paid.
Did you hear about that one guy who dipped his balls in paint?
My friend said they were “Pretty nuts!”
BlessedBrian's autobiography would be titled "The Adventure of Watching Paint Dry."