Will glass coffins be a success? -- Remains to be seen.
In death, what is the only organ in a woman's body to remain warm?
My dick
Setting: Funeral Home
Customer: Yes I was considering what would be the best option for cheap cremation but I feel that's silly to ask.
Funeral Director: Oh! We do have these nice urns over hear at a discounted 75 percent off. Customer: Okay? What's the catch. That's almost 300 dollars off?
Funeral Director: I assure you these are top of the line urns and will keep your loved ones remains secure and dry. Customer: Okay?
Funeral Director: Yep these have only been used once so it's is absolutely worth the purchase.
By: MiniMemorials.com
an assassin threatens a planet the planet remains calm the assassin:"do you not realize the gravity of this situation?
A dog walked into a tavern and said, "I can't see a thing. I'll open this one." The humor of it is probably related to the Sumer way of life (and has been lost), but the words remain.
For me, the best part of depression is remaining charming around strangers but saving the misery for the ones who love you.
Do you know what organ remains warm even after a woman dies? My penis (or rather my neutron laser priming its firing sequence)
Why was one afraid of every number in the world?
Because ONE wanted TWO get something THREE FOUR FIVE at the yard sale, but SIX was not there. SEVEN EIGHT NINE as well. When all but ONE remained, it got TENse.
your mama so fat that she doesn't get crushed by cars, she crushes cars and babies in strollers on the sidewalk when she falls and doesn't see any remains so there is no evidence.
one day there were these 3 cow boys sitting next to a fire and they were telling each other about their adventures well the first cow boy said i tangled with a bull that killed 6 people so i wrestled that son of a bitch to the ground with my bare hands the second cow boy said that's nothing yesterday i was walking on a trale and came across a rattler so i picked it up ,bit its head off and drank all his venom in one gulp the third cow boy remained quiet stering the embers of the fire with his penis
Here in I hop, we serve pancakes not pie cakes if so we can always bring in a chart that will Power the customer, his smile will remain at its current form, and police surely resisted when I said the word surely.
Why are emo jokes so infamous?
They cut deep.
Why isn’t the Moon Emo anymore?
Turns out it was just a phase.
How many emos like anagrams?
Some.
What do you call those who remain My Chemical Romance fans?
Emold.
What is the connection between Emos and Darth Vader?
They both dress in all black and none of them has a father.
What do you call flat-chested emo?
A cutting board.
How many emo kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
Who cares, let them cry in the dark.
Why did the emo kid leave the food on the table?
It was the Happy Meal.
Anthony went into the bakery and ordered Emo Cake.
“Emo cake?” says the baker. ” What exactly is it?”
Anthony says, “It’s the cake that cuts itself.”
How do you pull an emo from a tree?
Cut the rope.
What’s the similarity between emos and unsalted popcorn?
They’re both white and flavourless.
What do emo birds call their mouths?
Bleaks.
What do you call an obese emo teen?
An edgelard.
Recommended: Fat Jokes
What do you call a gang of emo kids?
Suicide Squad.
How are cats and emos different from one another?
The cat still has 8 other lives.
Why does emo get tattoos of fruits on their arms?
They are playing Fruit Ninja.
What will you call Sonic if he’s an emo?
Sonic the Edgy hog.
Why would the emo swallow a clock?
So he could wake up inside.
Why are Emos still around?
Because the suffering never ends.
What is the best way to get an emo off your balcony?
You encourage them.
What kind of bath bomb does an Emo prefer?
A toaster.
What is the favourite game of an emo?
Hangman.
Why do people wish their lawn grass was emo?
So it could cut itself.
A group of friends started an emo salsa band.
They call themselves HisPanic at the Disco.
What is the difference between pizza and emo pizza?
Emo pizza kind of cuts itself.
A local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around, that they offered a standing bet of one thousand dollars that their bartender can squeeze a lemon dry until all the juice ran into a glass, and anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out would win the money. Many people had tried but failed. Over time Weight Lifters, Lumberjacks, men in the Army, and Etc. But still, nobody could do it. One day, a scrawny little man came in wearing thick glasses and a cheap suit and said in a tiny squeaky voice, "I'd like to try the bet". After the laughter had died down the bartender said "okay" and he grabbed a lemon and squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the Rhine to the little man. But the crowd's laughter turned to Total silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon and six drops fell into the glass. As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the one thousand dollars and asked the little man, "What do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack a weight lifter or what?". The man simply replied, "I work for the IRS".
"The rise of atheism is going to lead to a break down of social morals and lead to all kinds of filth including an increase in child abuse" said the village priest. The village scientists did some fact checking. In prison they found roughly 70% of child abusers were hyper religious before committing the crimes, and another 20% converted to religions to look 'remorseful'. The remaining 10% preferred not to say. They presented the findings to the media. "Scientists slander good religious folk and ignore the weight of evidence!" "Is Science biased against religion? You decide in this survey". they reported
The village priest is living at his majesties convenience and tells the others he committed armed robbery.
"Why is this a joke, its not even funny?" Said the person reading this, breaking the forth wall.
What is funny is you got to the end of this post and didn't cringe. Why not?
In a world of feline folly, There lived a cat with a secret, A taste for adventure and mischief, And a love for KFC's golden treat.
With eyes like emerald jewels, And fur as black as night, This feline prowled the streets, In search of a savory delight.
Oh, how it yearned for chicken, Crispy and finger-lickin' good, But the cat knew it had to be sly, To satisfy its craving like it should.
Through alleyways it stealthily tiptoed, With nimble paws and a stealthy glide, Until it stumbled upon a secret, That made its hunger amplified.
A stash of KFC's golden eggs, Hidden away from prying eyes, An accidental treasure trove, A feast fit for a feline paradise.
With each stolen egg devoured, The cat's satisfaction grew, The taste of crispy breading, And juicy chicken, it knew.
Word soon spread of this food bandit, A legend of a cat so bold, Whispers echoed through the town, Of the one who stole the KFC gold.
But the cat with the KFC get eggs, Remained a mystery to all, A phantom of the night it became, Leaving no trace, no trail to recall.
And so, it continues its nightly quest, For chicken that satisfies its soul, The cat with the KFC get eggs, Forever on the prowl, never to be controlled.
A politician dies So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...
And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?
"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...
And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"
"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."
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.
