Pore jokes

It’s raining, it’s pouring. The old man is snoring. He got shot in the head and didn’t wake up in the morning.

I went, I saw, I poop at hole. I make a portal.

PP in the poo poo.

pp

pp

pp

pp

In the heart of a circular, creamy delight, there exists a void, a singular absence that adds to its charm. This hollow space, a perfect round, is a testament to the artistry of nature and man's culinary skills.

The hole, a silent observer, bears witness to the transformation of the substance around it, from a liquid state to a firm, yet supple form. It's a silent testament to the passage of time, a symbol of patience and the magic of fermentation.

The void, despite its emptiness, contributes to the overall aesthetic, making the slice a visual treat. It's a playful peek-a-boo with the world beyond, a window that adds mystery and intrigue.

In the end, the hole is not just a void, but a character in the story of this culinary masterpiece, a silent protagonist that adds depth and character to the narrative. It's a testament to the beauty of imperfection, a celebration of the unique and the unconventional.

Pooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Poor Uranus, he is so gassy.