That jokes
Be careful, because I heard that NASA is going to send a rover to Uranus.
Dad: "I'm giving all your toys to the orphanage."
Kid: "Why are you doing that?"
Dad: "So you won't get bored there."
My family loves to have dance parties. My dad will just play music from his iPod, and I'll go to the light switch and make a nice strobe light effect. Everyone loves it, especially my younger cousin. He gets down on the floor and starts breakdancing! It makes him so happy, and he needs that extra joy in his life, especially since the doctor recently diagnosed him with epilepsy.
The only difference between you and Jesus is that Jesus believed in himself.
An old man is sitting on a park bench, crying his eyes out. A jogger stops, feels bad for him, and asks, "Sir, what's wrong?"
The old man sobs, "I'm 85 years old. I have a 25-year-old wife at home who is a supermodel. She cooks me gourmet meals every day, she keeps the house spotless, and we spend every night in total, passionate bliss."
The jogger looks confused. "Wait... that sounds amazing! Why are you crying?"
The old man looks up, tears streaming down his face, and wails: "I can't remember where I live!"
I'm going to hang myself in the bathroom at school and put a note telling kids that I'm a piñata.
How to treat someone who’s lesbian, gay, queer, transgender or bisexual?
The same way that you would treat anybody else, you homophobic bastard.
Somebody told me that black slang is just white slang in reverse. For example:
White person: Dad, you're home!
Black person: Dad?
White person: You can keep the change.
Black person: Empty the register.
What do you call a hippo that has been thrown in a pan?
Hippo-POT-amus!
When you tell your mom that she is bad at jokes, then she tells you, "Well, I made you!"
In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.
For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.
Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.
For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?
Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.
Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.
For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.
So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.
Why did Trump go to Jeffrey's secret Island?
So he could trump that little bitch!
There are multiple. That’s the joke.
Walk The Dinosaur-By watersharky Productions and Was(Not Was)-
Boom boom acka-lacka lacka boom Boom boom acka-lacka boom boom
It was a night like this forty million years ago I lit a cigarette, picked up a monkey skull to go The sun was spitting fire, the sky was blue as ice I felt a little tired, so I watched Miami Vice And walked the dinosaur, I walked the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur
I met you in a cave, you were painting buffalo I said I'd be your slave, follow wherever you go That night we split a rattlesnake and danced beneath the stars You fell asleep, I stayed awake and watched the passing cars And walked the dinosaur, I walked the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk the dinosaur
One night I dreamed of New York You and I roasting blue pork In the Statue of Liberty's torch Elvis landed in a rocket ship Healed a couple of leapers and disappeared But where was his beard?
A shadow from the sky much too big to be a bird A screaming crashing noise louder than I've ever heard It looked like two big silver trees that somehow learned to soar Suddenly a summer breeze and a mighty lion's roar I killed the dinosaur, I killed the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody kill the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody kill the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody kill the dinosaur Open the door, get on the floor Everybody kill the dinosaur
Boom boom acka-lacka lacka boom Boom boom acka-lacka boom boom
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.
My friend said to me, "How do you spell Tom?" and I said, "T-O-M-M." He said, "That's not how you spell 'it's Tom.' You have to take out one 'M'."
So I said, "But which one?"
Papyrus: Sans, can you call Undyne for me and tell her that I found a human!
Sans: Sure bro, lemme just get on the Tele-bone.
Papyrus: Ssssaaaaannnnsss!!!!!!
Sans: Yea bro.
Papyrus: You know what? I will tell Undyne instead.
Bro's chin looks like it's from that movie cartoon named Kronk. No wonder he got stung by a bee and took an ibuprofen to reduce the pain, but instead it grew longer.
I have a fish that can breakdance only for 20 seconds, and he can only do it once.
What do you call cows that have a sense of humor? -- Laughing stock.