Them jokes

School shooting

    • So, I was at a funeral the other day, and it was a school shooting mass funeral. The lady beside me asked me, “What do you think was going through their heads?” And I replied, “Probably a bullet.” She was furious and said, “How dare you! You have no idea what those kids were probably going through!” And I replied, “Well, they were going through anything the bullet was going through them.”

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    • Feminist

    • What is the difference between a feminist and a gorilla? One of them is fat and hairy, while the other one has a functional brain (the gorilla, of course).

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    • Racism

    • Guys, why are we being racist? Why can't we love each other, please? Gimme that dick, boy. Please stop fighting. Let's love each other and them big ole dicks, please. Gimme that dick. I hate racism.

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    • Them memes

    Life

    • Whenever someone calls me ugly, I get super sad and hug them, because I know how tough life is for the visually impaired.

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    • Emo kid

    • How many emo kids does it take to screw in a lightbulb? None, they all sit in the dark and cry.

    To teach kids about democracy, I let them vote on dinner. They picked tacos. Then I made pizza because they don’t live in a swing state.

    You’re not completely useless. You can always be used as a bad example.

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    • Prison

    • Why did the Puerto Rican American 🇺🇸 🇵🇷 that was a gay male 🇺🇸 🇵🇷 that was born physically challenged not say anything to a group of gay white men that were not physically challenged after they called him a size queen after the Puerto Rican American 🇺🇸 🇵🇷 that was born physically challenged was done taking turns giving them a blowjob and was done taking turns swallowing their sweet cum? 🇺🇸 🇵🇷

    Because it was the best meal that he ever had since he has been in prison for 30 years. 🇺🇸 🇵🇷

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    • Cake

    • At a party, a young wife admonished her husband, “That’s the fourth time you’ve gone back for ice cream and cake. Doesn’t it embarrass you?”

    “Why should it?” answered her spouse. “I keep telling them it’s for you.”

    Grandfather

    • Teacher: Tell me a moral story.

    Little Johnny: Once my grandfather was in WW2. He saw everyone praising to kill him. For example, we should sneak up and kill him. We get the helicopter above and shoot him from there. My grandfather heard this, he got his gun and shot them all.

    Teacher: What is the moral even?

    Little Johnny: Never plan to kill my grandfather.

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    • Tattoo

    • I now know what my first tattoo should be, zebra stripes! Not like anyone would know the difference between them.

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    • High-five

    • People at my school have started to wear Logan Paul merch. I try to give them a high five, but they always leave me hanging.

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    • Wish

    • Three men were lost in the desert and found a genie who granted each of them a wish.

    The 1st man wished he was home with his family. The 2nd man wished he was home with his family, and the 3rd man wished they were all back together again.

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    • Horse

    • The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"

    Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!

    The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.

    For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!

    The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!

    In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.

    "The little horse wins!"

    "Lath, an easy winner!"

    "Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"

    People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.

    Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.

    "I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."

    Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.

    A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.

    "And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"

    Agba leaned forward in his saddle.

    There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."

    How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.

    The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.

    Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.

    He had kept his word!

    For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.

    The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...

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