New Thought Jokes - Page 2 - Worst Jokes Ever

A blind man walks into a woman’s bar and asks the person next to him if she would like to hear a blonde joke. The woman says before you tell your joke you should know the bartender is blonde and has a shotgun, the bouncer is blonde and has a baseball bat, the two playing music are blonde and have pistols, do you still want to tell that joke cowboy. He thought for a second and said not if I have to explain it five times.

My sister is so stupid she thought LBJ was a blow job

What did the autistic kid say to his girlfriend after they broke up? I thought what all we had was special

Today, I operated on a little girl, she needed O- negative blood. We didn’t have any, but her twin sister has O- negative blood. I explained to her that it was a matter of life and death. She sat quietly for a moment, and then said goodbye to her parents. I didn’t think anything of it until after we took her blood and she asked, “so when will I die”? she thought she was going to give her life for her sister. Thankfully they both died.

Why was Wacko Jacko willing to write a song for the film Free Willy?

He thought that the film's title was a nice phrase to yell out in primary school playgrounds.

Three men are working on a building site.

Everyday, they sit down to eat their lunch together at the top of the building.

The first man opens his lunchbox to reveal a ham sandwich.

“By god,” the man exclaims, “I hate ham sandwiches. I’ve been working in construction for twenty years, and everyday, despite me telling her how much I despise it, my wife gives me a ham sandwich. If I get a ham sandwich in my lunch again, I will throw myself off the top of this building and kill myself.”

The second man opens his lunchbox, revealing a cheese sandwich.

“Holy crow, another cheese sandwich! I hate these things, I tell you. Everyday, I tell my wife how much I despise cheese sandwiches, but I still get them in my lunch. I’m with you buddy—if I ever get a cheese sandwich in my lunch again, I’m killing myself.”

The third man, having opened his lunchbox, now pipes in.

“I don’t believe it—another tuna sandwich! If I had a penny for every time I’ve told my wife how much I hate these, I wouldn’t have to work on this sordid site no more! I’m sick of it—count me in, if I get a tuna sandwich in my lunchbox again, I’m killing myself.”

The next day, the three men regroup at the top of the building and open their lunchboxes: the first man – a ham sandwich, the second – a cheese sandwich, the third – a tuna sandwich.

The three men exchange solemn looks before jumping in unison from the height of the building.

At the funeral for the three men, their grieving wives turn to each other.

“If only I’d known how much he didn’t like ham sandwiches,” says the first man’s wife, “I always thought he was being ironic!”

“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like cheese sandwiches,” says the second man’s wife, “I always thought he was being sarcastic!”

“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like tuna sandwiches,” says the third man’s wife, “but I don’t know what good it would have done—the fool made his own lunch!”

A boss said to his secretary, "I want to have sex with you, but I will make it very fast.

I'll throw $1,000 on the floor and by the time you bend down to pick it up, I'll be done."

She thought for a moment then called her boyfriend and told him the story. Her boyfriend said, "Do it but ask him for $2,000. Then pick up the money so fast, he won't even have enough time to undress himself." She agrees.

After half an hour passes, the boyfriend calls the girlfriend and asks, "So what happened?" She responds, "The ...bastard.....used .....coins"

Old man goes to church

One Sunday morning an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn out old hat and an equally worn out Bible.r> The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed with expensive clothes and accessories.

As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.

As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attire for worship." The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.

The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."

"I did," replied the old cowboy.

"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.

"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said He'd never been in this church "

The Drunk and a priest

On a bus, a priest sat next to a drunk who was struggling to read a newspaper.

Suddenly, with a slurred voice, the drunk asked the priest:

"Do you know what arthritis is?"

The parish priest soon thought of taking the opportunity to lecture the drunk and replied:

"It's a disease caused by sinful and unruly life: excess, consumption of alcohol, drugs, marijuana, crack, and certainly lost women, prostitutes, promiscuity, sex, binges and other things I dare not say."

The drunk widened his eyes, shut up and continued reading the newspaper.

A little later the priest, thinking that he had been too hard on the drunk, tried to soften:

"How long have you had arthritis?"

"I don't have arthritis! It says here in the paper that the Pope has it."

A blind man went to a restaurant.

menu sir? asked the owner. I'm blind, just bring me one of your dirty forks, I will smell it and order. The confused owner went to the kitchen to retrieve a fork, and returned to the blind man. The blind man smelled the fork with a deep breath, yes I will have the lamb with seasoned potatoes and spring vegetables. Unbelievable, thought the owner. The blind man ate and left. Two weeks later the blind man returned. The owner, wanting to know how good his smell is, quickly went to the kitchen where his wife Brenda was cooking and said, do me a favor and rub this fork over your private part which she did. He then goes to the blind man and gives him the fork. The blind man takes it and puts it to his nose and says, oh interesting! I never knew Brenda works here!

I saw a sign that said “Watch for children” and I thought, “That sounds like a fair trade.”

i beat up a failed musician until he started crying. i thought a few hits would cheer him up!

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.

In the realm of poetry's grace, Where words dare to embrace, A request comes with a quirky plea, To give life to what the eyes may see.

"Pussy lussy cussy," it begins, A playful phrase that surely spins, And though the words may raise a smile, Let's craft a verse that goes the extra mile.

In free verse, we'll dance and sway, Allowing thoughts to have their say, For poetry knows no bounds or rules, It's a canvas for expression, where freedom fuels.

But let's remember, dear friend, To keep our words kind and lend, Respect to all, in every line, For poetry's power can truly shine.

So, let's journey on this poetic quest, With words that honor and truly impress, For in the realm of art and verse, We find beauty, in each line immersed.

And though "Pussy lussy cussy" may make us smile, Let's seek inspiration that runs deep, mile after mile, For poetry's magic lies in its ability, To touch hearts, souls, and set thoughts free.

In this short verse, may you find delight, As we paint with words, both bold and light, So let us write, with grace and art, A poem that sings straight from the heart.

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 the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.

It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.

It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.

This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.

So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.

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.

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.

In the realm of Danny, Ben, and Paxton, A trio of souls intertwined, Their stories woven with grace and might, A tale of friendship, ethereal and fine.

Danny, the dreamer with stars in his eyes, Chasing visions that danced in his mind, With every thought, a world he'd create, A poet, an artist, one of a kind.

Ben Power, the steadfast, a force to behold, With strength that could move mountains high, His heart, a fortress, unyielding and bold, A protector, a guardian, forever nigh.

Paxton, the wanderer, a spirit untamed, Roaming free wherever the wind blew, In every step, a new adventure claimed, A seeker, a nomad, forever anew.

Together they stood, a harmonic blend, Different paths converging as one, In the depths of their bond, a love unfurled, A symphony played, forever sung.

Through trials and triumphs, they faced the storm, Hand in hand, against the tempest's might, With laughter, tears, and hearts so warm, They shared the darkness, embracing the light.

Oh, Danny, Ben, and Paxton, forever bound, Through the pages of life, your stories unfold, In the tapestry of friendships profound, Your spirits, like poetry, forever bold.