Pocket

Pocket Jokes

The person next to me on my flight was shocked when they found out I was Arabian. I lagged so hard my gerbade almost fell out of my pocket.

Cradles-By Sub Urban and watersharky Music Productions- I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep I love everything Fire's spreading all around my room My world's so bright It's hard to breathe but that's alright Hush Shh Tape my eyes open to force reality (oh no, no) Why can't you just let me eat my weight in glee? I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities Some days I feel skinnier than all the other days And some days I can't tell if my body belongs to me I love everything Fire's spreading all around my room My world's so bright It's hard to breathe but that's alright Hush Shh I wanna taste your content Hold your breath and feel the tension Devils hide behind redemption Honesty is a one-way gate to hell I wanna taste consumption Breathe faster to waste oxygen Hear the children sing aloud It's music 'til the wick burns out Hush Just wanna be care free lately, yeah Just kicking up daisies Got one too many quarters in my pockets Count 'em like the four-leaf clovers in my locket Untied laces, yeah Just tripping on daydreams Got dirty little lullabies playing on repeat Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep

A man is pulled over by a police officer.

The policeman approaches the driver's door. "Is there a problem, Officer?"

The officer says, "Sir, you were speeding. Can I see your license please?"

The driver responds, "I'd give it to you, but I don't have one."

"You don't have one?"

The man responds, "I lost it four times for drunk driving."

The officer is shocked. "I see. Can I see your vehicle registration papers please?"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

The officer says, "Why not?"

"I stole this car."

The officer says, "Stole it?"

The man says, "Yes, and I killed the owner."

At this point the officer is getting irate. "You what?!"

"She's in the trunk if you want to see."

The officer looks at the man and slowly backs away to his own car and calls for back up. Within minutes, five police cars show up, surrounding the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half-drawn gun.

The senior officer says, "Sir, could you step out of your vehicle please?"

The man steps out of his vehicle. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner."

"Murdered the owner?"

The officer responds, "Yes, could you please open the trunk of your car please?"

The man opens the trunk, but there is nothing there.

The officer says, "Is this your car, sir?"

The man says, "Yes," and hands over the registration papers.

The officer, understandably, is quite stunned.

"One of my officers claims that you do not have a driving license."

The man digs through his pockets, pulls out a wallet and hands it to the officer. The officer opens the wallet and examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.

"Thank you, sir. One of my officers told me you didn't have a license, stole this car, and murdered the owner."

The man replies, "I bet you the lying bastard told you I was speeding, too!"

Joshua White loves blue, A simple truth, tried and true. In his pocket, only six, Yet each penny a valued fix.

With eyes that seek the azure skies, He dreams of places that mesmerize. A palette of blues, a symphony of hues, Whispering secrets only he can choose.

His heart beats to the rhythm of the sea, Where waves crash, wild and free. In sandy shores, he finds solace rare, A momentary escape from life's daily wear.

In cerulean fields, flowers dance, Their vibrant petals, a timeless romance. He wanders through meadows, devoid of strife, Seeking solace in nature's vibrant life.

Joshua White, a soul of gentle grace, Embracing the world at his own pace. Though his pockets hold a mere six, His spirit soars, never to be fixed.

For in the depths of his azure dreams, The richness of life's tapestry gleams. And with every breath, he finds anew, That love is boundless, ever true.

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!!!”