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A boy asks his father:

"What is politics?"

Father answers:

"It’s very simple! You see, I bring in the money, so I’m big business. Your mother spends the money, so she’s the government.

Your grandfather sees to it that everything is managed in an orderly way. So he’s the law.

Our maid is the working class.

Everything revolves around your interests, so you’re the people. Your little baby brother represents the future."

The boy has to think it over. That night he hears his little brother crying due to a dirty diaper. He doesn’t know what to do, so he goes to the bedroom of his parents. There his mother is sound asleep. He goes to the bedroom of the maid, but his father is there fucking the maid — and oddly enough his grandfather is watching through the window.

Nobody notices the boy and he returns to his bed.

The next day his father asks him:

"So, can you now explain to me what politics is?"

The boy says:

"Yes, it’s all become clear to me!

Big business screws over the working class while the law watches and the government sleeps. The people are ignored and the future lies in shit."

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

I watched a movie with a lot of ketchup on the ground.

I don't know why my friends look disgusted.

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.

Oh, the monkeys in the trees, they dance and they play, Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, they chatter all day. Their tails so long, their hands so fine, they swing and they sway, In the trees, they're the kings of the fray.

Their antics bring joy, their laughter so free, They're a delight to watch, as they jump and they spree. Their mischief is contagious, their fun so true, They're a treasure, a gift to me and you.

Their little hands so deft, their feet so light, They swing through the trees, with grace and might. They're a wonder, a marvel to see, A precious gift, a treasure to me.

A boy was terrible at writing sentences, so his teacher gave him an assignment to help with that. The boy was to go home, write five sentences, and return to school the next day.

When he went home, he took a notepad and a pen and went to his dad for help. His dad was in a very important business call, so he angrily shouted at the child, "Shut up, you donkey!" The boy noted down that sentence. He next went to his mom, who assumed that he wanted to play video games, so she said, "No, my dear, tomorrow." That was his second sentence. For the third sentence, he went to his older brother, who was watching football where someone scored a goal, so he was jumping up and down yelling, "Goal! Goal!"

For the fourth sentence, he went to his sister, who was singing, "Spider-Man, Spider-Man!" For the last sentence, he went to his grandmother, who was cleaning the toilet and singing, "Under the toilet, under the toilet."

He went to school the next day, and his teacher asked him to tell her the sentences. The boy said, "Shut up, you donkey!" The teacher got angry after hearing this and asked the boy, "Do you want me to slap you?" The boy said, "No, my dear, tomorrow." This made the teacher so angry that she slapped the boy. Immediately, he started jumping up and down yelling, "Goal! Goal!" The teacher dragged him to the principal's office, as she was fed up with him. The principal asked the boy what his name was, to which he replied by singing, "Spider-Man, Spider-Man!" She asked him where he lived, so he sang, "Under the toilet, under the toilet."

Would it be wrong of me to yell “Jenga!” or “Timber!” while my class is watching a 9/11 documentary?

how old are my girlfriends

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjBTsoYph48 oh and there my little sisters

What’s the difference between a pickpocket and a peeping tom?

One snatches your watch. The other watches your snatch.

Want to know something? Jason and Michael Myers had to watch their family while they have to live forever. That's why they kill; they're trying to make people experience what they did.

So one time I was with my girlfriend, crazy, right? But we were doing a TikTok eye follow challenge, and she pulled up a pic of Gwen Stacy from Into the Spider-Verse, and I looked somewhere I shouldn’t have, and she smacked me, and I changed to the Rock, and you know where she looked? WTF, right in the no-no square, and since she was a girl, all I could do was sit back and watch.

I was watching The Conjuring with an emo person. She said she likes the part where the girl was hanging. I said, "Why? Because you wish it were you?"