During the election campaign of 2012, we heard about Obama, but we thought they said Osama. So I told my friend, "Grab his gun and let's have some fun." So during one of Obama's campaigns, we both shot him to death, which lasted a while.
Then my friend said, "Let's go get piss drunk at Mavericks bar." Then on TV they talked about Obama's death, and everybody but 2 guys cheered. Then guess what, we loaded our guns and lit those 2 guys up like we did to Obama.
Hey guys. I just wanted to say, while I think some rape jokes can be funny, not one of these are. In fact, I find them pretty horrifying.
I was raped when I was fourteen (about six years ago), and I have made one rape joke in my entire life when, last year, I said "I don't fuck with rapists, I just get fucked by them." I thought it was funny. No one else did, and they were probably right in that.
My point is this: rape jokes CAN be funny when they are used by victims as a way of coping with trauma. They CANNOT be funny when they are made about raping someone else. Even if there is a difference between joking about raping someone and raping someone, it is absolutely disgusting to think such a horrific crime is funny, and I am sure at least some of the posters on this page have already crossed the line into committing rape.
Great material for social scientific research, though, gentlemen. Really well done.
So, I'm sitting here smacking on some cheese ball BBQ, my titties, and then I saw the most a shoe got shoveled all the way up my ass. I cried, then turned around and said, "MOTHERFUCKING COCK SUCK FUCKIN GAY ASS HOE SHOVIN SHOE'S UP MY ASS SON OF A BITCH!" Then turned around, punched the guy, got smacked in the face, went in for another punch, got smacked in the face, then people staring at me. I said, "WTF are you staring at?" I punched as hard as I can, then got knocked out. I thought this, "This isn't over motherfucker, I'm gonna find you and kill you." Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. They told me, "Why tf were you fighting a stop sign?" I said, "What? You were fighting a motherfuckering stop sign?" I said, "Bitch, I ain't crazing yo head a stop sign son of a bitch fuck my pussy u must be high! hai es a bitch muhfuhcka"
This boy's eyebrow was so bushy, everyone thought that it was a squirrel tail! XD
I thought fruit tasted good. I guess I was wrong.
You thought his puns were bad, wait till you sea mine!
Yo mama is so short, Minions look down at her.
Yo mama is so fat that she volunteered for the Hunger Games 'cause she thought it was an eating competition.
Yo mama is so ugly when Santa Claus saw her, he yelled "Ho Ho Holy Sh*t!"
Yo mama is so old, when she walked into an antique store, they didn't let her leave.
Yo mama is so stupid, she sold her car for gas money.
So one time I had a dream where I was on a road trip and we drove a golf cart and a Susan, which I don’t know why the heck the name of the car was called a Susan.
We went into this house and there was like a woman there and we went into this bathroom which looked like a public bathroom, which was so weird!
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.
How sad and pathetic is it that all you wait for after you finish a suicidal joke is for people to like your joke, but you know you'll just be a failure at that as well?
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 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.
A UN survey asked the following: Please, in your honest opinion, could you give your thoughts on the food shortages in the rest of the world?
It was a failure because:
South Americans don’t know the word “please.”
Eastern Europeans don’t know the word “honest.”
Middle Easterns don’t know the word “opinion.”
Balkans don’t know the word “give.”
Chinese don’t know the word “thoughts.”
Africans don’t know the word “food.”
Western Europeans don’t know the word “shortage.”
Americans don’t know the words “the rest of the world.”
Then they simply explained “just donate healthy food to the global south to help.” But that still didn’t sit right with everyone, because Israelis do not know the word “donate,” and Pacific Islanders do not know the words “healthy food.”
Two plus two is four. Minus one, that's three, quick maths. Every day, man's on the block. Smoke trees (Ah). See your girl in the park. That girl is a uckers. When the ting went quack-quack-quack You man were ducking (You man ducked). Hold tight, Asznee (My brudda). He's got the pumpy (Big ting). Hold tight, my man (My guy). He's got the frisbee (Few). I trap, trap, trap on the phone Movin' that cornflakes (Uh). Rice Krispies. Hold tight, my girl Whitney (My G). On, on, on, on, on the road doin' 10 toes Like my toes (Like my toes). You man thought I froze. I see a peng girl, then I pose (Chilin'). If she ain't on it, I ghost. Hah, look at your nose (Check your nose, fam). You donut. Nose long like garden hose.
A young Greek couple got married, and at their wedding...
...the mother of the bride took the bride aside for a quick chat.
"My sweet," she said, "you're now a woman. I'm so proud. Some advice for you now that you're married: Greek men are very particular, and at some point when you're making love to your new husband, he might suggest that you 'turn around,' if you know what I mean. If that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, do not feel pressured to say yes."
The bride thanked her mother for the advice, and the wedding continued. That night, as she and her husband consummated the marriage, she was mildly surprised to learn that he never asked her to 'turn around.'
They spent a beautiful week together on their honeymoon and made love many times. But still, to her mild surprise, her husband never asked her to 'turn around.'
Their one year anniversary arrived, and they made love to celebrate the milestone. But again, to her mild surprise, the husband never asked her to 'turn around.' This continued for years: their second anniversary, third, fourth...
Finally, on their fifth anniversary, her husband started getting romantic with her in bed and said, "Honey, we've been married for five years. I was thinking we maybe try something new. I thought this time you could 'turn around,' if you know what I mean."
She replied, emphatically, "No! No, I do not do that, I am not that kind of woman!"
Without getting defensive, her husband simply said, "That's all well and good, honey. But I thought you said you wanted children?"
Oooh, I fall apart. Oooh, yeah, mmhmm. She told me that I'm not enough, yeah, And she left me with a broken heart, yeah. She fooled me twice and it's all my fault, yeah. She cut too deep, now she left me scarred, yeah. Now there's too many thoughts goin' through my brain, yeah, And now I'm takin' these shots like it's Novocaine, yeah. Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, didn't know it before Surprised when you caught me off guard All this damn jewelry I bought You was my shorty, I thought Never caught a feelin' this hard Harder than the liquor I pour Tell me you don't want me no more But I can't let go Everybody told me so Feelin' like I sold my soul Devil in the form of a whore Devil in the form of a whore You said it No, you said it No, you said it We'd be together Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, didn't know it before Surprised when you caught me off guard All this damn jewelry I bought You was my shorty, I thought Ice keep pourin' and the drink keep flowin' Try to brush it off but it keep on goin' Covered in scars and I can't help showin' Whippin' in the foreign and the tears keep blowin' Ice keep droppin' and the drink keep flowin' Try to brush it off but it keep on goin' All these scars, can't help from showin' Whippin' in the foreign and the tears keep blowin', yeah Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, I fall apart Down to my core Oooh, didn't know it before Surprised when you caught me off guard All this damn jewelry I bought You was my shorty, I thought.
So, three guys are walking down the street together and decide to go rob a bank.
The first one goes for the richest man in the city’s vault but can’t open it easily and is caught and sent to death in jail for robbing the richest man.
The second one goes for his uncle's vault because screw that son of a b***h; he’s rich, why does he need all the money? But his uncle was unfortunately at the vault that day and snapped his nephew's neck.
The third one went for his ex’s vault and thought, “Well, that b***h can suck my d**k; she’s so poor anyway, who would care if I take all her money so she dies of hunger and dehydration and homelessness?” So he managed to get into her vault easily because it wasn’t heavily locked and took all her money. The next day, the third guy's ex showed up to his house and said, “I’m gonna f*****g murder you,” so she shot him dead and got her money from his house.
In hell, the three guys see each other and explain what happened. The third guy did and then asked, “You know, I don’t get it. If the richest guys are heavily guarded but already have so much money in their house, why does it need to be heavily guarded? I don’t understand why the poorer aren’t heavily guarded when they are so poor they need the money.” And the first guy said, “B***h, I don’t know, maybe the bank tellers think poor people should suck it and just die already.”
So, I don't want anyone taking this the wrong way, people are free to be whatever they feel they are, and that's not anyone else's choice.
BUT!!!!!!
I personally have my own feelings on "churches and christianity". I feel that it is against The God Delusion and is an abomination to anyone who has half a braincell. I know plenty of Christian people, and I respect that! NO, REALLY, I DO. My best friend is a dumbass Christian just like you are, and I respect that's how she feels, and I'm glad that she made her choice. But I don't love it when people promote this stuff, because it is what the morons are tricking everyone into doing/being. Falling into the brainwashed act is NOT something you should ever want to do. As someone who has some intelligence, this is not okay in my sense.
As someone who isn't an Aussie, I note that Idfk what this is: "The people who defended Australia get 2 days, remembrance day and Anzac day + 1 minute of silence." BUT the christianism community gets YEARS IN THIS DUMB WORLD where they are told that they are 'special' and 'normal, like everyone else'. Which is really unfair and in a way, biased. I was only 7 when I recognized this just from being told at school by all the kids in my class that they are either CHRISTIAN or support it.
I know and understand I will get a lot of hate from this, I also don't give a shit, but please remember that it's just my thoughts and opinion. Thank you for reading. :)
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.
I entered Kian's house. At the top of the stair, I was greeted by my greatest fantasy, JOHN. He said in a manly tone, "Hello there." I walked slowly up the stairs and greeted him back. As I walked past his room, I felt uneasy. I walked into Kian's room to find no one. I turned around and gasped. John is standing there, a bulge had appeared and poked me as he got nearer. He pushed me onto Kian's bed. The bed was that bad it broke as I fell onto it. John says, "A broken bed is nothing to worry about." I look up at him in disbelief, he's more masculine than I thought. He thrust himself onto me, his crotch area sticky to the touch. He then ripped a fart as he bent over, at this point I knew it was too late John, the fart he ripped (sticky to the touch) had me so in shock I wasn't ready for what was next, he picked and jumped on my head ripping the most monstrous, enormous, deadly, sticky to the touch fart I'd ever seen, it knocked me out. I awoke to find I was in the WALLS. I looked out to find I was in the glory hole, my worst nightmare had become reality, I fully understood my purpose in life was to the holy glory hole, I heard "GRANDAD CAN I GET SOME V-BUCK" I then knew I was in for some Kian treats.
The end
