US jokes
My teacher gave us an assignment, and one of the questions was "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I answered, "Happy."
The teacher said I didn't understand the test. I said to her that she didn't understand life.
Shortly after the hole was finished, everyone in the forest was looking for long grass to fill the hole. The upper layer covered it with short grass and scattered some grass around the hole so it didn't seem as conspicuous. The next evening, the villagers hid in their houses and turned off the lights and waited inside, while one of the farmers stood outside and, if possible, unobtrusively skimped on a cart.
Around midnight, the Headless Rider appeared with his horse in the village. He saw the seemingly single peasant scooping his hay and rode towards him. He was about to swing his axe, and while he was doing so, he overlooked the slightly more scattered grass near the farmer – and thus fell into the trap. He clumsily slumped into the prefabricated hole together with his horse and now lay there helplessly inside, together with his horse, which swayed in panic as the rider's axe was stuck in its back.
When the villagers heard this, they all stormed out of the houses to surround the hole. They saw the Headless Rider, and when he noticed all the villagers around him, he cursed: “Gaaah! You stupid villagers caught me! I can't do much down here. I give up.” The villagers took his axe away from him. Now they only needed a just punishment for the rider.
One of the villagers shouted: “We should tie him to a rope and hang him! He tried to kill us all and plagued us for a long time. So we should kill him and let him suffer for a long time!” The other villagers agreed with him. So they tied a thick rope to a branch of a large tree that stood in the village garden. The villagers took the Headless Rider out of the hole and dragged him to the rope. As they were about to hang the rope around his neck, they noticed that something didn't fit in their plan to hang the Headless Rider. Then the Headless Rider cried out: “You stupid mortals, I have no head at all! Why are you trying to hang me?”
It was a sunny day and I was in school. I had history lessons and we had a cool subject! The subject was about Penaldo, the man who statpadded against small teams and camped in the pen spot! Our teacher showed us a map with marked countries in which Penaldo dived like a dolphin!
Know the nuclear bombs of the world.
🇷🇺🧨 a “bad” bomb
🇨🇳🧨 “ww3”
🇬🇧🧨 a “good” bomb
🇺🇸🧨 Japanese area testing
🇮🇱🧨 what bomb
🇮🇷🧨 just self defence
Dying mall be like...
"Toys" were us.
Goodbye, kitty.
Dying Canes.
quarantine be like:
Hey Gwen come on let's chat! We can forget about that dumb bitch "prince" and focus on us!
In a world bizarre, Penis burgers, strange delight, Tantalizing taste.
Buns shaped curiously, Meat, a bold centerpiece, Lingering delight.
Sizzling grill, they sizzle, Juicy secrets unfold, Hidden pleasures found.
Tempting, yet absurd, Controversial cuisine, Curiosity piques.
Daring, adventurous, Palates embark on a quest, Uncharted flavors.
But let us not dwell, On the phallic form they hold, For taste transcends all.
Beyond flesh-shaped buns, Flavors dance upon our tongues, A feast for senses.
So let us partake, In this culinary art, With open-minded hearts.
Two guys were beating up someone in an alley, so I stepped in to help.
He didn't stand a chance against the three of us.
Little Johnny was overheard by his mother reciting his homework, “Two plus two, the son of a b*tch is four; four plus four, the son of a b*tch is eight; eight plus eight, the son of a b*tch...;” “Johnny!” shouted his mother. “Stop swearing!” “But mom!” Little Johnny protested, “That’s what the teacher taught us! And she said we should recite it till we learned it!”
The next day his mother went to the teacher to complain. “No, no,” said the teacher, terrified. “That’s not what I taught them. They’re supposed to say: ‘Two plus two, the sum of which is four.’”
What did the priest say to the skunk?
Let us spray.
All of you idiots who think that it is ok to laugh about us foster kids need to be shot.
Depressed people have beautiful smiles. Okay, it's not a joke for normal people, but it's a joke for us.
Q: What is found deep inside of us, and the more we express our love for each other the more it spreads throughout the world?
A: Covid.
Trump really fractured the US with his 1/6 insurrection...
Don't leave us hanging, Sayori.
What if plants are farming us, giving us oxygen until we die, and turn into natural fertilizer which helps them?
TRUE STORY!
X-Ray Tech: I broke my arm and went to the hospital. The X-Ray Tech was the hottest blonde I've ever seen.
I threw her ass down on the X-Ray table, ripped her clothes off, ripped off mine and I jumped on top of her!
Then I put the X-ray machine on top of us, turned it on and I looked up on the X-ray monitor and I watched and saw my sperm swimming up inside her!
What do U.S. airstrikes and dark humor have in common?
They're normally pointed towards Africa and the Middle East.
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.
Teacher: We have a new student today class, come introduce yourself.
Student: My name is Buttitches.
Teacher: Please tell us your real name.
Student: Buttitches.
Teacher: I’m calling the police.
Police: Son, please tell me your real name or I’m going to shoot you.
Student: Buttitches.
Police: *shoots gun.*
A few days later, the police go to the funeral and sits behind the mom. While crying, the mom says, "My Buttitches!" The police say, "We’ll scratch it, lady."