Secret Jokes

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.

What do you call a cow that is secret?

AnonyMOOus.

1st graders: ay yo girl I think you’re beautiful let’s get married!! 2nd graders: uhh don’t tell my mom that we’re dating!! She won’t let me date! Let’s keep this a seeeeecret heeheehee. 3rd graders: uh my teacher told me to stay after school because I wrote a poem about you and I’m 9 years old, we have to break up sweetie. 4th graders: hey I think you’re cute!! Wanna date? I don’t think my girlfriend will mind....... 5th graders(they start wearing makeup): ay girl your eyelashes are pretty I like you now, wanna date? Here’s my numberrrrrr. 6th graders: heyyyyy I gotta tell you a secret I got a crush on you!! Don’t tell anyone!! Byeee, ooh I’ll text you later! 7th graders: we need to make Peyton jealous because she broke up with you!! Wanna date? I mean, you’re not hot, but still, great personalityyyyy alright bye now 8th graders: hi sweetheart I got STARRRBUCKKKSSS Me: UGLY AF AND LITERALLY NO BOYFRIEND.....

What did the mama cow say to the baby cow? moooooooo my secret is that it's pasture bedtime, but not pasture bedtime

1. Full name: John 2. Proverb: work is not a rabbit, does not run. 3. Favorite meal: the sphinx with the sour cream. 4. Sexual orientation: sexually disorientated. 5. Mental health: mentally retarded. 6. Previous careers: funeral undertaking, after that two years in the circus as the main brown bear, after that in the church school for two years, after this experience five years as a screw in the jail for the worst criminals with the top degree of supervision and now working for the secret services in my home country after gaining the top-secret audit. 7. Favorite pets: dog, bumble bee named Maxo, a butterfly named as Redwing and the lizard named as Notail 8. Favorite activities: washing the dishes, cutting the woods, vacuuming and playing hard rock. 9. Working motivation: none.

I hope that you will accept my curriculum vitae and that we will see each other soon already as new colleagues, I wish more or less. Kind regards, John

In the realm of whispers and shadows, Where dreams dance on the edge of reality, There resides a peculiar soul, Known as Alexander Fisher.

With eyes that hold secrets untold, And a heart that beats to its own rhythm, He tiptoes through the night, On a quest to embrace the extraordinary.

His hands, delicate as a feather's touch, Reach out to the heavens above, Grasping at ethereal strands of wonder, In the form of vibrant, floating balloons.

With each step, the balloons whisper, Carrying tales of forgotten dreams, And the untamed yearnings of the heart, Alexander Fisher's silent companions.

He creeps through moonlit streets, An enigma in a world seeking answers, As the balloons trail behind him, Painting the night with magic's hues.

Together, they wander through the darkness, Where imagination blooms and thrives, In a delicate ballet of dreams, Alexander Fisher's fantastical symphony.

The world watches, captivated, By this balladeer of whimsical desires, As he weaves his spell, one balloon at a time, Enchanting souls with his ethereal art.

For in his delicate grasp, balloons become more, They transcend their earthly existence, Becoming vessels of hope and joy, Guiding hearts towards the realm of possibility.

Alexander Fisher, the dreamer, the poet, Creeps through life, a gentle force, With his balloons as his faithful companions, He reminds us to embrace the extraordinary.

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.

you know what I hate about rape? Keeping it a secret.

How do you becomes with Nato. Promise no more world wars, by secretely peforming miltiary practises behind their back

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