Shit jokes
Does that neverending forehead of yours go all the way to Mars, holy fucking shit?
Today, there was a big test for Little Timmy. During the test, Timmy had to take a really huge shit. So, he rushed to the bathroom. He took a while in there.
When he was done, he realized there was no more toilet paper left. Since there was nothing around him to use, the only thing he could do was wipe with his hand. His time in the bathroom was up, and he needed to finish that test! He didn’t have time to wash his hands. So, he hurried back. The problem was, the hand he wiped with was his right hand. He used his left hand to complete the test, which made him fail. When he got home, his mother was standing there crossing her arms. “Timmy, the teacher had called and said you wrote sloppy on your test. Why is that?” Timmy replied, “Oh, it’s because I caught a leprechaun with my right hand, but if I opened it, my classmates would scare him away, so I had to use my left.” Timmy’s mother glared at him with disbelief. “Timmy, I don’t believe you. Now open your hand!” Timmy did so and opened his hand. “See, mother? I said you’d scare the shit out of him!”
What do you call Jan[uary] 6th?
White people smearing shit on the walls of the capitol!
So a cupcake walks into a bar and sits down. The bartender says to himself, "Damn, this is some good shit."
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)
You know shit is going down when anything pumped up kicks related is brought into school.
I asked my nan if she wouldn't mind shitting in a bucket when we went camping. She replied, "Why the fuck would I want to sit in a bucket?" So eventually she did, and I took the best shit I have ever had!
I wonder if Stephen Hawking heard the song "Gangster's Paradise." Oh, shit, he can't!
When the quiet kid lost a game of basketball and reaches into his bag,
other people in the gym: "Oh shit this nigga bout to shoot."
Chuck Norris doesn't flush the toilet.
He scares the shit out of it.
A girl walks up to her dad to ask for a dress for prom and he says, "Suck my dick and I'll buy you a dress." She does it and says to him, "Dad, your dick tastes like shit." And he says, "Yeah, your brother wanted a car."
Why are Deepika Amar's jokes so shit? Because he is a smelly cunt.
When a woman removes polish with chemicals, no one bats an eye, but when Hitler removes the Polish with chemicals, suddenly people lose their shit?
A man's daughter comes home from school and asks her dad if she can borrow the car.
The father replies, "No, it's too late at night."
The daughter says, "C'mon, Dad. I'll do anything."
The dad says, "OK, suck my dick."
The daughter says, "No, that's disgusting."
The dad says, "You want the car. You said you'll do anything."
The daughter agrees. Just as she is about to put her father's dick into her mouth, she stops and says, "Eww, Dad, your dick smells like shit."
The dad replies, "Yeah, well, your brother borrowed the car about an hour ago."
A girl and boy are in bed after sex. The boy goes, “I can’t believe they got together after all that shit.” The girl says, “Who?” The boy goes, “My ass cheeks.”
You should never suppress a fart. It travels up the spine high into the brain. That's where the shit ideas come from.
Go on the quintillionaire morning routine now!
1. Wake up. 2. Take a shit. 3. Eat. 4. Get out of bed. 5. Have breakfast.
There was an exam music quiz question about Gary Glitter. Now, if there's anyone you don't want to associate with the phrase "shh, turn over, you've got an hour," it's him.
Shit, my bad. I should leave him alone, he just wants to settle down and have kids.
How do you know you broke into a gay man’s house?
The weird moaning sounds when you try to slide in the back door.
Followed by slipping in Kentucky (KY) Jelly.
Followed by landing in deep shit.
Followed by being totally covered in sea men.
Yo, I feel like shit when you're around.