Side Jokes

Have you heard of the man who got all his left side chopped off?

He was all right.

wy isuranus look like a paper becuase u do see the other side

an old indian was buried on the side of a hill, what did he say.

nothing, he was dead.

Once upon a time, there were three kingdoms, all bordering on the same lake. For centuries, these kingdoms had fought over an island in the middle of that lake. One day, they decided to have it out, once and for all.

The first kingdom was quite rich, and sent an army of 25 knights, each with three squires. The night before the battle, the knights jousted and cavorted as their squires polished armor, cooked food, and sharpened weapons. The second kingdom was not so wealthy, and sent only 10 knights, each with 2 squires. The night before the battle, the knights cavorted and sharpened their weapons as the squires polished armor and prepared dinner. The third kingdom was very poor, and only sent one elderly knight with his sole squire. The night before the battle, the knight sharpened his weapon, while the squire, using a looped rope, slung a pot high over the fire to cook while he prepared the knight’s armor.

The next day, the battle began. All the knights of the first two kingdoms had cavorted a bit too much (one should never cavort while sharpening weapons and jousting) and could not fight. The squire of the third kingdom could not rouse the elderly knight in time for combat. So, in the absence of the knights, the squires fought.

The battle raged well into the late hours, but when the dust finally settled, a solitary figure limped from the carnage. The lone squire from the third kingdom dragged himself away, beaten, bloodied, but victorious.

And it just goes to prove, the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.

If I was an object in this world I’d be a glass! Because if you leave me when I’m too close to the edge I will likely shatter and break.

If I was a pizza topping I would be pineapple! Because everybody doubts me.

I’m a star! Because one of these days I’m going to crash and burn...

If I could choose what creature I come back as after I die I’d be a panda, because people would give a shit if I went extinct.

I’m like the sun; I’m painful to look at.

If I was a food I would be chopped liver because nobody likes me.

I’m like an eggshell... broken and empty.

If I was a mythical creature I’d be a unicorn! Because nobody believes in me.

I’m like a flashlight with old batteries inside because my inner light died a long time ago.

My soul is a raisin because it’s dried up shriveled, and not everyone likes it.

I’m like the moon because you only get to see one side of me.

I’m like the moon because as the month progresses my life becomes covered more and more by darkness.

I’m like an Ex streamly powerful fan! Because I push everyone away.

I’m like a disposable camera! People use me once and then just throw me away.

I’m like a shity book cover... because people think they have the right to judge and label me before they read my pages.

My brain and body is essentially a really old married couple that can’t afford to go through with the divorce and now they are stuck in a toxic relationship they are desperate to escape but the more they try the more they sink into the quicksand that is my depression and anxiety

Help me...

Today we had the best adventure ever! We started playing in the yard and doing ramps in a party van! It all started when Timmy and I were playing in the yard and a white rusty van drove up to our yard. A nice man told us to get in. We said we would love to go but our mommies wouldn't want us to go. The man said your mommies told me it was OK to come. We hopped in the back and sped away super fast! The man gave us some candy, but Timmy and I were not hungry, so we didn't eat it. We saved it for later. After a while, I was wondering where we were going. I was about to ask the man, but then there was a whooping sound and some flashing blue lights! ̈Hey they want to party with us! ̈Timmy yelled over the whooping. ̈Party van! ̈I yelled. Timmy and I started dancing and whooping and the van began driving faster, doing crazy race car stunts, and jumps! Then we noticed the lights and whooping were coming from some cars that were following us. The cars were black and white and said ̈P O L I C E” on the side. We started to wave to them, but then the van did a HUGE jump and we flew out of the back of the van to the side of the road into some dirt, but it didn't really hurt that much. The van drove off without us, and I was really sad. Then Timmy told me the dirt was perfect for making mud pies. I was happy again. We played in the dirt awhile, until some people dressed like firefighters found us and brought us home. And then you asked me what happened. ̈Isn’t that right mommy? ̈

I'm just gonna say it. And don't get offended but I'm so sick of the media bieng on the female side. It never shows what life is like for a male.

Yes women do have it hard in life because they have to give birth etc.

But men have it pretty hard too if not harder. Males are criticised for showing emotions.

Men have to go to war on the front lines.

Boys have less support from their friends because showing any emotion is a sign of weakness.

Boys have to wear trousers in schools where they practically burn to death in summer meanwhile girls get to wear dresses and skirts. And now we hear girls complaining about them not being allowed to wear trousers. Yet we haven't ever heard anything about boys protesting about wearing shorts to school. It's because no one will take a man's protest seriously because the media is always against the men.

Man-rape is unheard of in the media and I've never seen anything in any form of news accusing a woman as a rapist.

We are expected to gather up our guts ask a girl to be their girlfriend, we have to take them on dates, pay the bill, buy them gifts when the girls never do anything like that for us males. We have to get a job while they put on makeup and go out with their friends and spend 3 months worth of the money the man has made.

And the women say we only rape women and that we restrict women from doing certain things like fighting in world wars.

It's because most males do not want females to get hurt. Yet we are criticised for this.

I propose a idea that on the 19 of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work. etc.

Whose going to put out all the fires? The two fire'women' at the local fire station. Who is going to work in the major corporations? The secretary's and the receptionist?

Women are always saying that the world will be a better place if they're are no men around. Let's show them how wrong they are.

(this event can be done worldwide)

Share this with as many people who still believe in the rights of the males.

(I'm not against feminism it's just that everything in the media is about some stupid problem women are complaining about + hatred for males everywhere.

But I think that nowadays women have more rights than men because they can wear what they want, do what they want and never get criticised or face any consequences.)

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Because the chicken had 4 chicks and a cheating hen who all sucked out all his money he got from his extremely boring job, and he finally got some peace for himself and was going to the local bar, which was on the other side of the road. He walked in the door, wings sagging, feathers catching on his claws. The bartender eyes him as he sits on a bar stool. "Chuck, how ya doin'? The missus doin' good?" "Just give me the hardest stuff you got. I'm done." This caught the bartender by surprise. "Chuck, come on, don't be sayin' that. Just look to the future and you'll be fine." "What future?" Chuck replied in a huff. "My wife and chicks are so goddamn pestering sometimes, you know? But if I leave, they'll all suffer, and I don't want that either. Oh, God, Phil, I don't know what to do." "You know, you've got a good heart for a rooster your age," Phil answered. "We need that in these parts. I'm tellin' ya, there will be more than what's happenin' right now, ya know, life's got all its gears turning for ya, and there's just a bit slow right now. The gears haven't been oiled in a while, but who's the only one who can fix that?" Chuck knew the answer. "Me." Phil returned with his drink. "McClucken's Whiskey, on the house." Chuck glanced at his glass. He held it up to the light. His face reflected in an aura around it, neither looking forward to the light and not backward, either. "No thanks, Phil," Chuck sighed, "But thanks anyways." He went to get up out of his chair. Phil called as he walked out the door, "Just remember to oil the gears every now and then, eh?" Chuck's comb flapped in a cool breeze brought in by the season. A bench was nearby, staring across to the other side. And he just sat there, sat there thinking. Cars blurred to a colorfully colorless nothingness as he thought in silence. He could see an open window in his mind, full of chickens: a sassy hen, two identical sportish chick; another, older than the two, and body bristling with blue comb-dye and the latest thing he watched online fresh on his Chickstagram page; finally, the first of the bunch, shy, bookish, with a secretly courageous soul. They all looked... worried, worried for the rooster who guided them, helped them grow, supported them... and all looking out of the window back at him. A single tear welled in Chuck's eye. The chicken walked back across the road to his family, to his friends, and to the life he was content with.

There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle.

“BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!”