Run jokes
How to run from Iran?
Iran away!
Bend over and spell run.
A Mexican runs into a wall, what hits first?
His lawnmower.
Stop with the dead baby jokes. We're running out of babies.
Russia and Ukraine are running a marathon. Who do you think won? Russia did. Russia gave Ukraine a migraine.
Why does Mexico never hold the Olympics? Because everyone that can run, jump, and swim is already out of the country.
The orphan was playing baseball. He hit a home run. His coach told him to run home. He couldn't find it.
The reason your dad never came back with the milk is 'cause he ran 88 mph downhill.
Why are orphans bad at baseball? Because they can't hit home runs.
Mexican runs into a wall. He loses hope.
I ran into a kid today. Now I'm in jail and I lost my driver's license.
A Lew runs into a wall, what does he break? His Nose.
A Mexican runs into a wall, what does he break? His lawn mower.
Why can’t orphans play baseball?
They have no home to run to.
I saw a Black person riding a bike, so I ran back to my garage. He was still eating.
When a woman decides to abort, it is called a decision, but when I run my truck into a playground of kids, it is called murder.
Stop with the orphan jokes. We're running out of orphans to joke about.
So, Duracell batteries do run out.
Why was the man running around his bed?
Because he needed to catch up on his sleep!
In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.
"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.
In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.
But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.
So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.
And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.
In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.
Jay and Andrew are best friends who are almost alike. The difference between them both is Jay is poor and well... Andrew, on the other hand, is suck-a-dick poor. Let me explain, Jay wakes up in his room, walks to the kitchen, and asks his mom, Lisa (I call her Lisa now, btw), if there is anything to eat. "No, bitch!" she replies, so Jay drinks a glass of milk and goes back to bed.
Now Andrew... wakes up, jumps out of bed, and he's in the kitchen. He sees his mom fixing some food for work after a long hard night of giving her husband blue balls. "Anything left for me, Mother?" Andrew asks. "Sorry, Honey, I have to eat to put food on the table and to get the running again." *so she goes to work, taking her time* Andrew sits by his bedside and says to himself, "Man... I'd suck a dick for some water right now." *his mom storms back after hearing what he had said* "I'll buy you a soda if you do my first customer for me!"