Trail

Trail Jokes

You are walking through the woods when you cross a woman who has been raped and beheaded, what is the first thing you do? Check your map, you’re obviously going in circles.

I was on the Oregon trail with my friend's brother carl. he got cholera, so we threw him off the wagon. when we came back, he was having a seizure and pooping uncontrollably. it was pretty cholerious.

What can’t a gay person walk a trail because a gay person can’t walk on a straight line🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

In a world of feline folly, There lived a cat with a secret, A taste for adventure and mischief, And a love for KFC's golden treat.

With eyes like emerald jewels, And fur as black as night, This feline prowled the streets, In search of a savory delight.

Oh, how it yearned for chicken, Crispy and finger-lickin' good, But the cat knew it had to be sly, To satisfy its craving like it should.

Through alleyways it stealthily tiptoed, With nimble paws and a stealthy glide, Until it stumbled upon a secret, That made its hunger amplified.

A stash of KFC's golden eggs, Hidden away from prying eyes, An accidental treasure trove, A feast fit for a feline paradise.

With each stolen egg devoured, The cat's satisfaction grew, The taste of crispy breading, And juicy chicken, it knew.

Word soon spread of this food bandit, A legend of a cat so bold, Whispers echoed through the town, Of the one who stole the KFC gold.

But the cat with the KFC get eggs, Remained a mystery to all, A phantom of the night it became, Leaving no trace, no trail to recall.

And so, it continues its nightly quest, For chicken that satisfies its soul, The cat with the KFC get eggs, Forever on the prowl, never to be controlled.

So do you guys know those waterslides that you stand in, and then they suddenly drop you straight down onto the water slide? If not, look them up on YouTube, there's nothing like them.

Ah yes, the sweet memories of my first time on one of these. I feel that my mental/emotional scars have healed enough to tell this gem.

At the time my girlfriend, now Fiancée, worked as a photographer for one of those resorts with the indoor and outdoor water parks. One of her perks was that her and a family member/friend could get into the waterpark for free, so one hot summer day she had off and we both decided it'd be fun to go there and cool down for the day.

While we were there, I discovered one of there most "Thrilling" looking waterslides. Basically you stand in this tube, and then the slide operator presses a button and this slide drops you straight down a good 90 FEET, before you actually start going down the water slide. Me, being a thrill seeker, of course had to try it. So I made the great climb up to the top of the slide, stood in line, and finally it was my turn. Once I got in the tube, the operator told me to keep my legs crossed. Now I'm a pretty big heavy guy, so I was like "That's uncomfortable as fuck, I'm not doing that". So there I was standing in the tube, having a panic attack from anticipation, with my legs not crossed. The operator finally presses the button, the bottom opens and I fall straight down the water slide. Very quickly I realized why they have you cross your legs. Water shot so far up my ass, so fast, I swear I tasted it in my mouth. My body raced down that slide, as I questioned every life choice that I have ever made.

Once I made it to the bottom, I sat there for a moment, absolutely violated. I felt like someone in an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. I built up the courage to finally stand up, and all I could feel was the nice warm stream of water mixed with shit, and maybe a little bit of blood shoot out of my ass faster than the Steamboat Geyser at Yellowstone National Park. I quickly got off the slide and ran to the bathroom, with a trail of shitty water tailing me as the slide operator stared in awe. They had to shut down the slide for the rest of the day :'), but man was my asshole clean after that!

Moral of the story: Keep your damn legs crossed on waterslides.

Same thing goes when you are at bible study with a handsy priest.

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.