Soul jokes
Q: What's the difference between a nun and a woman in a bathtub?
A: One has hope in her soul and one has soap in her hole.
If I were 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 extremely 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 shitty 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....
Do you want to give your life to God and be in Heaven?
A Souls fan raped me. He said, "Try finger, but hole."
Madden Whiffen, a curious soul, With an appetite beyond control, A bottomless pit, never satisfied, Ingesting all that's placed beside.
From dawn till dusk, he feasts his way, Devouring meals without delay, With gusto he consumes, without restrain, Every morsel, every crumb, he'll obtain.
No dish too large, no portion too small, His hunger insatiable, devouring it all, From succulent meats to delicate greens, He relishes the flavors, savoring each scene.
A culinary adventure, forever he embarks, Sampling cuisines from all walks and arcs, From street food to gourmet, he seeks it all, His palate an explorer, on a constant sprawl.
He savors the spices, the textures, the taste, In a gastronomic journey, no time to waste, For Madden Whiffen, the food is his muse, A symphony of flavors, he'll never refuse.
But caution, dear friends, in this feeding spree, For gluttony can lead to a troublesome plea, Madden Whiffen, beware the consequences, For overindulgence brings no recompenses.
In the realm of cuisine, he reigns supreme, A legend of eating, a man of extreme, Madden Whiffen, the one who eats it all, In his gastronomic pursuit, he stands tall.
So let us marvel at his voracious might, As he devours dishes, day and night, For in Madden Whiffen, we witness the feat, A man who eats everything, a culinary elite.
Water bottles, strong, Standing tall, like sturdy men, Quenching every thirst.
Clear and transparent, Reflecting strength and resolve, Resilient and pure.
In hand, they offer Refreshing relief, like hugs, Soothing every soul.
Water bottles, like men, Nourish and hydrate our lives, Simple yet vital.
Carrie Underwood and ChatGPT are not the same. ChatGPT is able to create a soul.
Your secret is safe with me. I walnut tell a soul.
My dad died in 9/11, and that was the second worst thing that happened to me with a plane, next to Soul Plane.
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.
Chesley, in horror, runs out of the cockpit of the plane coming from London, "I'm so very sorry, everyone. I punched the wrong buttons, and we are heading to DC instead of New York, and we are about to run out of fuel." He opens the door and turns around to the five passengers and exclaimed, "I've parachutes but miscounted. We only got four for the passengers." He jumps off.
Donald faced the other four and orders:
"I'm the greatest leader of the world, and I'll make the decision. Tony, you go first. Our country needs you. The whole wide world needs you. Pandemic is raging."
Tony jumps off.
"Francis, my friend, you go next. Pandemic is ravaging the mind and body of millions. Their soul needs saving. Save Vladimir's and Xi's for me."
Francis jumps off.
Hillary faced Donald furiously. "Who are you to make decisions for us? I should have been president. I'm the smartest woman in the whole world in history."
Hillary jumps off.
Donald gazed at the young woman and started talking: "I'm an old man. I have already lived a full life - beautiful wives, children, just a beautiful life. Just beautiful. I've become president of the most powerful country, the most beautiful, the richest. Regrets? I've made a few but did it my way. Greta, go on. Your future is bright. I just wish I can make my country great again and have the chance to help save the world with you. I believe in second chances. Look at my bankruptcies, believe me. And I wish I've played more golf and..."
Greta interjected, "Just shut the f* up. The plane is about to crash. Let's go and save the world. The smartest woman in history took my backpack!"
Have you heard about the dyslexic devil worshipper?
He sold his soul to Santa.
Why was 6 afraid of 7? Because 7 murdered 37 children and 41 adults during the ages of 31-35 years old.
She was then sentenced to a 35 year sentence (Colombian stuff) and came out 70 years old. She then continued to go on a spree and murder 41 more people, in 2 months. 3 years later, 6 stabbed 7 as they were friends. 6 was not sentenced, but deemed a hero. He never forgets that moment. Her soul not floating above, but screaming from the torture it's receiving.
Fork pierces the flesh. Guided by hunger's demand, Savoury feast waits.
Tines dig deep within, Seeking the sustenance craved, A mealtime delight.
Belly grumbles loud, Yearning for nourishment's touch, Fork answers the call.
Food on the platter, Fork dances with anticipation, To satiate hunger's plea.
Digestion begins, Fork's journey now complete, Nourishing the soul.
Why does the fork go? To bring joy to empty hearts, Satiating needs.
In the stomach's depths, Fork finds purpose and solace, A culinary bond.
With each mealtime tale, The fork carves memories deep, In stomachs it rests.
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.
His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.
A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.
No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.
In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.
With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.
Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.
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.
I put my heart and soul in my report, then my teacher says:
"Hey KIDS were going to repeat making current events about our state til we DIE."
....No wonder when kids leave school they're soulless.
RIP Meh Soul.
Do you know what a reverse exorcism is?
It's when the demon tells the priest to exit the child's body.
A man was kneeling on the church floor, crying desperately in front of the large wooden statue of Christ.
"My headphones are broken, Lord... I'm desperate... What should I do? Guide me!"
And the Lord appeared in the form of bright light, and the strong, deep voice filled the man's soul.
"WELL BUY NEW ONES, YOU DUMBASS!"
And so he did.
In the realm where words wander free, A tale unfolds, unbounded and carefree, Jayden, a curious soul, embarks on a quest, An enigmatic journey, where desires manifest.
Marching through the corridors of cyberspace, He delves into realms of passion and grace, With a click and a glance, a world awakes, As pixels dance, his curiosity takes.
In the dimly lit room, shadows play, Jayden surrenders to this clandestine display, A voyeur to fantasies, unspoken and raw, He gazes upon screens, an uncharted draw.
Whispers of temptation echo in his ears, As he navigates through fantasies and fears, The allure of the forbidden, an intoxicating call, Jayden's senses entangled, in a mesmerizing thrall.
But amidst the symphony of moans and sighs, A realization dawns, awakening his eyes, For behind the allure, a truth is revealed, In the depths of this world, a heart left concealed.
Within the flickering scenes of pleasure's masquerade, Lies a yearning for connection, a soul's crusade, Jayden, march forward, beyond the screens, Seek the embrace of love, where true beauty gleams.
For within the realm of flesh and bone, A deeper fulfillment can truly be known, In the tender touch, in the warmth of a kiss, Lies a bliss beyond pixels, a love that won't dismiss.
So, let Jayden march, with newfound grace, From the fantasies that once held his embrace, For the world awaits, with its wonders untold, Where love reigns supreme, a story yet to unfold.