Path jokes

If possible, I refrain from brunching celebrities. My path is smooth. The table receives the branching.

When I arrived at my friend's house and, after a long time, I was given permission to pick from the branches and graze the dog, I agreed. Then the work begins. "No, no money," I replied, "that's why I'm a burden to the world that hurts me."

And when I told them, they told me and said they were there. If I had a job, I would be fired on the first day for bad behavior. The best solution is to avoid this situation.

Why did Blitzkrieg work so well in France?

Because lightning always follows the path of least resistance.

Two nuns are riding their bikes down a cobblestone path.

One nun turns to the other one and says, "I’ve never come this way."

The other one says, "Neither have I. It must be the cobblestones."

What do planes and offices have in common?

They both tend to cross paths at the wake of disaster.

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.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

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.

Jayden March, a name so bold, Never knew the joy of cookies untold. In a world of sugar and sweet delight, He stood apart, an unusual sight.

While others indulged in sugary bliss, Jayden abstained, dismissing the kiss Of chocolate chips and dough so divine, His willpower strong, his resolve intertwined.

No oatmeal raisin or double fudge, Could tempt his taste buds, not even a nudge. For Jayden March, a different path he took, In a world of cookies, he never partook.

His reasons unknown, a mystery untold, Perhaps he sought something purer than gold. Or maybe he craved a different kind of treat, One that couldn't be found in a cookie sheet.

But as the years passed by, curiosity grew, Whispers of wonder, questions anew. Why did Jayden March deny such delight? Was there a secret hidden in his resolute fight?

Some say he found solace in nature's embrace, In the rustle of leaves and the wind's gentle pace. Others believed his heart sought a different reward, In acts of kindness, love freely poured.

Jayden March, a man of mystery and grace, Marched to a beat only he could embrace. In a world of cookies, he found his own way, Leaving us wondering, pondering day by day.

For though he never tasted the sweetness of a treat, Jayden March's story remains incomplete. A reminder to us all, to explore and define, Our own desires, our own paths to find.

So let us celebrate Jayden's unique choice, And listen to the whisper of our own inner voice. For in a world of cookies, may we remember, That sometimes it's the journey, not the taste, we treasure.

In the realm of Danny, Ben, and Paxton, A trio of souls intertwined, Their stories woven with grace and might, A tale of friendship, ethereal and fine.

Danny, the dreamer with stars in his eyes, Chasing visions that danced in his mind, With every thought, a world he'd create, A poet, an artist, one of a kind.

Ben Power, the steadfast, a force to behold, With strength that could move mountains high, His heart, a fortress, unyielding and bold, A protector, a guardian, forever nigh.

Paxton, the wanderer, a spirit untamed, Roaming free wherever the wind blew, In every step, a new adventure claimed, A seeker, a nomad, forever anew.

Together they stood, a harmonic blend, Different paths converging as one, In the depths of their bond, a love unfurled, A symphony played, forever sung.

Through trials and triumphs, they faced the storm, Hand in hand, against the tempest's might, With laughter, tears, and hearts so warm, They shared the darkness, embracing the light.

Oh, Danny, Ben, and Paxton, forever bound, Through the pages of life, your stories unfold, In the tapestry of friendships profound, Your spirits, like poetry, forever bold.

Was threatened with legal action off my postman this morning!! I was stood havin a smoke when he asked if my dog bites, I said no. Halfway down my path the dog jumped up and bit him on his testicles!! Screaming out in pain he Said I was a lying bitch cos I told him my dog didnt bite!! Told him mine doesnt!! that wasnt my dog!!!

Your hairline has a huge path between it, looks like Moses had something to do with it.

So Johnny Depp made an appearance on the MTV Video Music Awards as an astronaut. It really looks like he wants to be the new Elon Musk, whatever career path is most viable for Depp. I got to admit, if launching crystal meth into your nostrils and your anus is as viable as launching rockets to Mars, Johnny Depp would surpass Elon Musk in net worth.

Then again, the money Depp spends on alcohol each month, he could have bought all of Michael Bloomberg's penthouses in Manhattan. Sure sounds like he also shares the same financial advisor as Donald Trump, who thought it was a magnificent idea to launch Trump Airlines and Trump Ice. He already shares the same pro-Kremlin lawyer, by the way.

Yo, hairline looking like a flight trajectory path.

President Joe Biden was jogging through some different jogging paths around this great county we live in and was jogging through Alabama and fell off into a swamp filled with killer alligators, and these 3 boys named Willie, Roman, and Little Johnny saw him fall in and jumped in and drug him to safety, and the president was like "Thank you, thank you, thank you SOOO much. I'm gonna give you boys a reward for saving my life," and asks them what their names were and what they wanted. The first boy said, "My name's Willy, and I want to go to Disneyland," and the president said, "No problem, and I'll take you personally." The 2nd boy said, "My name's Roman, and I want an autographed pair of Air Jordan Nikes," and the president said, "No troubles at all," and the 3rd boy says, "My name's Little Johnny, and I want a power wheelchair with an awesome stereo and killer wheels," and the president says, "You don't look handicapped, Little Johnny," and Little Johnny said, "I'm not, but as soon as I tell my parents who I saved, I will be"🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle. "BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!"

Science flies you to the moon, but religion flies you into 2 skyscrapers.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”

Why did the orphan commit mass murder?

To be on top of the wanted list.

Myrtle Beach has a clear blue sky and sunny weather, a pleasant place to visit as a family. Don't you think they are not evil creatures, and do you think they have them?

"No, there are no ghosts or evil creatures." You can say that, but don't be surprised when Gina Claw Scare comes for you, aka GCS for short. Gina Claw Scare was born in North Carolina in August 1991. She died in 2000. No, that's not real. WRONG. Gina's real name was Gina Clawien Scaren. Yes, that's why her name is Gina Claw Scare. Why did she die? I know, right? She died from a curse from her bad companions. We never knew their names. The curse sent her down a dark path, demons and hate comments from people on Instagram, Facebook, and the worst jokes on the site.

Gina Claw Scare loved fire, which means she was a pyromaniac. She would rise from the grave in which she was buried. Did what? Stop, for real this time!

They buried her on a lawn in the forest that caught fire. "HARSH MAN!" I know, right? She rises from that grave, she comes for the people who call her by name four times. Then she beat the drums and set your house on fire! A fire so harmful that you can feel hurt, friends. You can hear everyone's screaming, and then become like her. Never say her name. NEVER.

You went the wrong way. Always choose the right path.