New Say Jokes - Page 13 - Worst Jokes Ever

A policeman walks up to a van with two priests and says, "We're looking for two child molesters."

The priests both look at each other for a moment and then say, "Okay, we'll do it."

A little boy decided to burn a house down. The father put his arm around his wife, tears in his eyes, saying, "That's arson."

Once a man goes to a restaurant. Then, he was waiting until the waitress comes and tells him that they don't have food.

He was grumpy, but the waitress make him relaxing by unbuttoning her pants and undressing her panties and uncovering clothes from her pussy until everything get striped, then she say to him: "Good meal."

Seeing one of her students making faces at others in the playground, Mrs. Matthews stopped to gently reprove the child. Smiling sweetly, the teacher said, "When I was a child, I was told if I made ugly faces I would stay like that."

The student looked up and replied, "Well, you can’t say you weren’t warned, Mrs. Matthews!"

This lady has 2 parrots that only say one thing: "Hi, we're prostitutes, wanna have some fun?"

So she goes and tells her pastor. He responds with, "I have two parrots as well, they are always praying, and they have everything that a parrot needs to be a Christian. Maybe if we put our parrots together, mine will fix yours."

They proceed to do so, and the lady's parrots say, "Hi, we're prostitutes, wanna have some fun?" and the pastor's parrots reply with "Johnny, drop your beads and lift your heads, our prayers have been answered!"

Little Johnny comes down for breakfast because he lives on a farm, and his mother asks if he has done his chores or not.

"Not yet," says little Johnny, so he goes to feed the chickens, cows, and pigs. He ends up kicking the chickens, cows, and pigs and goes inside and asks why he got a dry bowl of cereal. His mother responds with, "I saw you kick the chickens, so no eggs for a week. I also saw you kick the pigs, so no bacon for a week either. I also saw you kick the cows, so no milk for a week either."

Little Johnny's father comes downstairs and kicks the cats. Little Johnny looks at his mother and says, "You want to tell him, or should I?"

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

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.

What did one ocean say to the other ocean?

Nothing, it just waved. This was the worst joke ever.

I walked in on my little sister when she was naked.

The thing I have to say is that my little sister is a big sister with big tits & ass with juicy lips upstairs & downstairs. I say whoever is going to be my brother-in-law is going to be a very happy person.

So basically Star25/AG3.0 and GG miller are the same person since I found some evidence.

On one post, AG3.0 asked GG miller what’s his name.

Post right here: worstjokesever.com/community/p/6509c2cbefa8ad0a8dfd8dc5

So gg miller replied, “MILLER IS MY REAL LAST NAME, AND GG IS MY REAL MIDDLE NAME”

So, we already know Star25’s real name is Adrian Gorges because when he had the AG3.0 account, he said that AG stands for Adrian Gorges. And we also can back this up with his tik tok. www.tiktok.com/@adriangorges2010?lang=en

But, there’s an important factor. Gorges can also be shortened to GG.

So, we know that GG miller is AG3.0, but let’s back this up even further. If you search up adrianmiller2010, it pops up with AG3.0’s new account’s videos. Since GG Miller’s name says, “Miller” in it, that means that GG Miller IS ag3.0

So taking all of this evidence, we can conclude that AG3.0’s full name, which is, “Adrian Gorges Miller”.

Lmk if you have any more things abouts ag3.0 so we can expose him even more.

What did the hurricane say to the coconut tree?

Hold on to your nuts, this ain't no ordinary blow job!

Yo mama's so ugly that even Hello Kitty had to say goodbye.

Little Johnny is with his dad behind a garbage truck when a dildo thumps the windshield.

To protect Little Johnny's innocence, he says, "That was an insect."

Little Johnny replies, "I'm surprised it could get off the ground with a cock like that!"

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

My name shows it all if you can't see, IDC AT ALL, you can ban me.

But let me tell you one thing, Without God, Isr-el is nothing.

So let me say it again, one last time, Free Free Palestine!

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

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.

In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.

Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.

Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.

Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.

Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.

So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.