This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”
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 "
Chuck Norris and Superman had a bet. The loser had to wear their underwear on their pants.
Why did Paul walker cross the street?
Because he wasn't wearing his seatbelt
Why don’t mountains catch colds? They wear snow caps.
What does a perverted frog say? Rub it
Why don't witches wear underwear? To get a better grip on their broom
What do girls and rocks have in common? The flat ones get skipped
What is red and goes 200 mph? A baby in a blender
This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
So I got asked why I suddenly started wearing a beret and I said, well you never know when you need to pick a lock
why did helen keller wear skin tight pants?
so you could read her lips
*One day u see a girl climb a pole and ask her* Why are u climbing that pole Because a boy payed me to He did that to see your underwear Oh. Ok *next day u see her do the same thing* why are u ding the same thing Well I got him this time. I did not wear underwear
I'm just gonna say it. And don't get offended but I'm so sick of the media bieng on the female side. It never shows what life is like for a male.
Yes women do have it hard in life because they have to give birth etc.
But men have it pretty hard too if not harder. Males are criticised for showing emotions.
Men have to go to war on the front lines.
Boys have less support from their friends because showing any emotion is a sign of weakness.
Boys have to wear trousers in schools where they practically burn to death in summer meanwhile girls get to wear dresses and skirts. And now we hear girls complaining about them not being allowed to wear trousers. Yet we haven't ever heard anything about boys protesting about wearing shorts to school. It's because no one will take a man's protest seriously because the media is always against the men.
Man-rape is unheard of in the media and I've never seen anything in any form of news accusing a woman as a rapist.
We are expected to gather up our guts ask a girl to be their girlfriend, we have to take them on dates, pay the bill, buy them gifts when the girls never do anything like that for us males. We have to get a job while they put on makeup and go out with their friends and spend 3 months worth of the money the man has made.
And the women say we only rape women and that we restrict women from doing certain things like fighting in world wars.
It's because most males do not want females to get hurt. Yet we are criticised for this.
I propose a idea that on the 19 of September every year (until we get the point across) all males do not go to work. etc.
Whose going to put out all the fires? The two fire'women' at the local fire station. Who is going to work in the major corporations? The secretary's and the receptionist?
Women are always saying that the world will be a better place if they're are no men around. Let's show them how wrong they are.
(this event can be done worldwide)
Share this with as many people who still believe in the rights of the males.
(I'm not against feminism it's just that everything in the media is about some stupid problem women are complaining about + hatred for males everywhere.
But I think that nowadays women have more rights than men because they can wear what they want, do what they want and never get criticised or face any consequences.)
Q: How did the mobile phone propose to his girlfriend?
A: He gave her a ring.
Q: What’s the most popular video game at the bread bakery?
A: Knead for Speed.
Q: Why is Santa good at karate?
A: He has a black belt.
Q: Where do werewolves buy Christmas gifts?
A: Beast Buy.
Q: What did the snowflake say to the road?
A: Let’s stick together.
Q: Why did the turkey join a band?
A: So he could use his drumsticks.
Q: What’s a math teacher’s favorite winter sport?
A: Figure skating.
Q: Where do werewolves buy Christmas gifts?
A: Beast Buy.
Q: What did the snowflake say to the road?
A: Let’s stick together.
Q: Why did the turkey join a band?
A: So he could use his drumsticks.
Q: What’s a math teacher’s favorite winter sport?
A: Figure skating.
Q: What’s a firefly’s favorite dance?
A: The glitterbug.
Q: Why are eyeshadow, lipstick, and mascara never mad at each other?
A: Because they always make-up
via GIPHY
Q: Where do roses sleep at night?
A: In their flowerbed
Q: Why was the show bad at gymnastics?
A: She was a flip-flop
Q: What should you wear to a tea party?
A: A t-shirt
Q: What’s rain’s favorite accessory?
A: A rainbow
Q: Where does a sink go dancing?
A: The Dish-co
Q: What’s a princess’s favorite time?
A: Knight time.
Q: Why did the Genie get mad?
A: Because he was rubbed the wrong way.
Q: What’s a ballerina’s favorite type of bread?
A: A bun.
Q: What kind of dance was the frog prince best at?
A: Hip hop.
Q: What do bunnies like to do at the mall?
A: Shop ‘til they hop.
via GIPHY
Q: How did the beauty school student do on her manicure test?
A: She nailed it.
Q: What is corn’s favorite music?
A: Pop.
Q: Why can’t Monday lift Saturday?
A: It’s a weak day.
Q: Why was the politician out of breath?
A: He was running for office.
Q: What is a soccer player’s favorite chemical element?
A: Goooooooooooold!
Q: Why did the fastest cat in class get kicked out of school?
A: He was a cheetah.
Q: Which state has the greatest number of jokes?
A: Pennsylvania.
Q: Where is the best place to sit when a submarine is diving?
A: Inside.
Q: Why did the lawyer show up in court in his underwear?
A: He forgot his lawsuit.
Q: Why was the teenager no longer allowed online without a license?
A: He crashed the computer
via GIPHY
Q: What’s a ball that you don’t throw, shoot, eat, spit, bounce, or catch?
A: An eyeball.
Q: What do turtles, eggs, and beaches all have?
A: Shells.
Q: What time of year do people get injured the most?
A: In the fall.
Q: Why did the quarterback take the hardest classes?
A: Because he knew he would pass.
Q: Why did the musician throw away her table?
A: Because it was flat.
Q: Why didn’t the farmer's son study medicine?
A: Because he wanted to go into a different field?
Q: What is the math teacher’s favorite dessert?
A: Pi
Q: Why was the princess in the emergency r
The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"
Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!
The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.
For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!
The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!
In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.
"The little horse wins!"
"Lath, an easy winner!"
"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"
People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.
Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.
"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."
Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.
A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.
"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"
Agba leaned forward in his saddle.
There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."
How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.
The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.
Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.
He had kept his word!
For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.
The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in
This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
A politician dies So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.
"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...
And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?
"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...
And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.
The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"
"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."
