Really jokes
Really feeling suicidal is basically having a mental breakdown, but realizing you have nothing nice and sharp to use
A toaster and a slice of whole wheat bread sit together in the sauna.
After five minutes, the bread starts to sweat extremely and says: "Oh, I think I'm going to be a toast in here!"
The toaster just looks at it bored from the side and replies: "Don't get upset. I'm just here to really switch off."
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)
Two hunters are in the woods when one of them collapses. He's not breathing and his gaze is blank. The other hunter grabs his phone and calls emergency services: "My friend is dead! What do I do?"
The emergency dispatcher replies: "Calm down. I can help you. First, make sure he's really dead."
Silence on the other end, then a gunshot. Back on the phone, the hunter asks: "Okay, now what?"
In Junior High, we had to do a report on euthanasia. I misunderstood the report and wrote about how I'd really like a Korean girlfriend.
They call me Mr. Distracted, truly a spastic. Can't talk to my folks cause they say I'm pro- problematic. Really fantastic. Can't focus unless I take meds then it's magic. My brain is like traffic, always fucking active. But never at the right time, pretty fucking tragic it happens.
Cheer for fun on the telephone and singing, "We are family!" Even then, your dad, really, he's fat, just like your dad. And your mom's fat ass, b**** ass, looking like an Oompa Loompa self, looking like an ugly.
Why is it so hard to find people defending suicide in any discussion?
Because they are really committed to their cause.
Bro sat down too close for comfort. I told him to move or he would get hurt.
Come on, how hard could it possibly be To move a few inches? You’re touching my D.
A guy really needs his personal space. Disobey and I’ll shove it in your face.
What's red and spins really fast?
Kurt Cobain's ceiling fan.
I got told I'm too mean and that I need to think before I speak. So now I take a couple minutes and think of what will REALLY piss the other person off.
Q. What's red and pink and spins around really fast? A. A baby in a blender.
What's Michael Jackson's favorite things to say to little boys? "I'd really love to see you-hoo-hoo tonight," and "I can't smile without you-hoo-hoo."
Man, this walk is really good. Oh wait, you can't.
I hooked up with my German girlfriend. It was really distracting when she kept saying her age.
What's the difference between a sheet and a baby?
One of them is really loud when you iron it.
Did you hear about the guy who died by lethal injection and writhed on the stretcher for 20 minutes?
I guess it really IS all in the execution.
In Jr. high, we all had to do a report on euthanasia. I misunderstood and wrote a report on how I'd really like a Korean girlfriend.
This guy goes to a bar and pulls out a little guy playing the piano. The bartender asks him where he got a small man with a piano.
The guy points outside to a genie granting people wishes. The bartender runs out and 1 million ducks appear.
The bartender yells at the genie saying, “Are you fucking deaf? I asked for 1 million bucks, not 1 million bucks!”
The guy from the bar says, “No shit! You think I really asked for a 12-inch pianist?”
You really seem like you don't want to be laughing at that rape joke, but somewhat ironically, I'm forcing you.