Shorts

Shorts Jokes

I crashed into the back of a car at the lights today. A really short guy got out of it and said, “I’m not happy.” I said, “Well which one are you then?”

I went to go mine for some gold, but then I saw some shorts :Friend " Your jokes are to short" Me: "Zip it, my jokes are always golden." :Friend "Your such a ingot, don't forget your jokes are always Aurum." Me: "I know my jokes are Aurum, it's always because I always glitz" :Friend "at lest I have luminescent" (Get it? Lu mines cent)

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.

When Pope Pius (IX.) died, he went to Heaven, knocked at the door, St. Peter opened: "Who are you, what do you want?” "I am Pope Pius. I want to come to heaven.” “Where do you come from?" "Rome." "What do you mean? Rome Massachusetts or Rome New York?" "No, Rome Italy of course." "I'm very sorry, but I do not know you!"

To make sure to not erroneously deny access to an authorised person, Saint Peter takes the telephone, calls up God and asks: "Hello Boss, here is a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome, do you know him?" "What do you mean: Rome Massachusetts or Rome New York?" "No, Rome Italy of course." "No, sorry, I don’t know him."

Saint Peter makes another telephone call and rings up Jesus: "Hello Junior - here’s a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome, do you know him?" "Rome Massachusetts or Rome New York?" "Rome Italy." "No sorry, never heard of."

Saint Peter still does not give up and finally calls up the the Holy Ghost and asks: "Hello Smoky, here is a guy who says he is the Pope of Rome. Do you know him?" "What does he mean, Rome Massachusetts or Rome New York?" "He says Rome Italy." "No sorry, I’m afraid I do not know this guy." But then, after a very short while he continues: "Wait, wait - tell me, is that the guy who invented the damn story about Mary and me?"

god: why is the teenager so short angle: I don't know God: I said strong as a bear angle: no you said ass hair god: no I didn't