New Wheres Jokes - Page 3 - Worst Jokes Ever

May our days be abundant, a dance of delight, May I navigate life with courage, taking flight. May our journey be a beauty, a blessing so sweet, May I celebrate friendships, where hearts and souls meet.

May our nights be bright, with laughter and cheer, May we live with love, eliminating every fear. May I grow in kindness, a serenade of grace, May our lives be a marvel, a splendid embrace.

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.

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.

In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.

It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.

It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.

This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.

So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A curious tale, strange as the night, Of Alex Fisher, with love so bizarre, For random Hitler lemons, bizarre but bizarre.

Free Verse, they say, this poem shall be, Unrestrained, unrhymed, flowing and free, Yet how to capture this perplexing love, For lemons and Hitler, soaring above?

Alex Fisher, a soul with peculiar taste, Finds joy in lemons with a sour embrace, And Hitler, a name that evokes dark pain, Inexplicably entwined, like wind and rain.

Randomness, the thread that weaves this tale, No logic, no reason, no rhyme to prevail, For who could fathom this peculiar love, Of lemons and Hitler, below and above?

Yet in the realm of words, where all is allowed, We explore the uncharted, the strange and the proud, And though this poem may bewilder and confuse, Let it remind us, acceptance we must choose.

For love knows no boundaries, no norms to abide, It transcends our expectations, with no need to hide, So let us embrace the quirks that make us unique, For in the tapestry of life, we find what we seek.

So here's to Alex Fisher, with love all their own, May they find happiness, wherever they've flown, In lemons and Hitler, a world so absurd, May their love be a reminder, that love has no words.

In the realm where words wander free, A tale unfolds, unbounded and carefree, Jayden, a curious soul, embarks on a quest, An enigmatic journey, where desires manifest.

Marching through the corridors of cyberspace, He delves into realms of passion and grace, With a click and a glance, a world awakes, As pixels dance, his curiosity takes.

In the dimly lit room, shadows play, Jayden surrenders to this clandestine display, A voyeur to fantasies, unspoken and raw, He gazes upon screens, an uncharted draw.

Whispers of temptation echo in his ears, As he navigates through fantasies and fears, The allure of the forbidden, an intoxicating call, Jayden's senses entangled, in a mesmerizing thrall.

But amidst the symphony of moans and sighs, A realization dawns, awakening his eyes, For behind the allure, a truth is revealed, In the depths of this world, a heart left concealed.

Within the flickering scenes of pleasure's masquerade, Lies a yearning for connection, a soul's crusade, Jayden, march forward, beyond the screens, Seek the embrace of love, where true beauty gleams.

For within the realm of flesh and bone, A deeper fulfillment can truly be known, In the tender touch, in the warmth of a kiss, Lies a bliss beyond pixels, a love that won't dismiss.

So, let Jayden march, with newfound grace, From the fantasies that once held his embrace, For the world awaits, with its wonders untold, Where love reigns supreme, a story yet to unfold.

In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat.

With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.

Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see.

Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.

Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires.

They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.

Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air.

Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.

Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas.

In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.

And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star.

Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.

Joshua White loves blue, A simple truth, tried and true. In his pocket, only six, Yet each penny a valued fix.

With eyes that seek the azure skies, He dreams of places that mesmerize. A palette of blues, a symphony of hues, Whispering secrets only he can choose.

His heart beats to the rhythm of the sea, Where waves crash, wild and free. In sandy shores, he finds solace rare, A momentary escape from life's daily wear.

In cerulean fields, flowers dance, Their vibrant petals, a timeless romance. He wanders through meadows, devoid of strife, Seeking solace in nature's vibrant life.

Joshua White, a soul of gentle grace, Embracing the world at his own pace. Though his pockets hold a mere six, His spirit soars, never to be fixed.

For in the depths of his azure dreams, The richness of life's tapestry gleams. And with every breath, he finds anew, That love is boundless, ever true.

In pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.

What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.

From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.

With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.

The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.

Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.

But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.

Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.

So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.

So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.

In fields of gold, where sunshine beams, Monkeys swing and play, it's their dreams. Their fur so soft, their eyes so bright, Picking cotton with delight.

Their little hands so quick and neat, Plucking the cotton, can't be beat. They chatter and laugh, they dance and play, In the fields all day, they'll stay.

Their tails so long, their ears so big, They're quite the sight, it's quite a gig. They're busy as can be, you see, In the fields of cotton, they're free.

So let us marvel at these little thieves, In the fields of gold, they give and receive. Their antics bring us joy and delight, In the fields of cotton, they're always right.

ayo lynx where you at

Lynx, where the fuck are you? This is Dagger Jr. (Proof in comments)

Man: Doctor where are you taking me Doctor: to the morgue Man: but I’m not dead yet Doctor: are we there yet

I play saxophone, and I like to tell everyone I am a registered s/o (short for saxophone operator) in hopes of one day starting a jazz band, but now everyone looks at me weird, and when I go to house parties to perform, everyone hides their children, but little do they know I LOVE children. For some reason, I got multiple restraining orders because I said, “I want to touch the kids so they can one day become musicians themselves... like Michael Jackson.” I have then since moved from my hometown to Florida, where I can meet up with other s/o’s, and surprisingly, they have similar stories to me, but they say they have never even touched a saxophone, but they do like touching kids, which I’m all down for, just me and my buddies showing the new youth their abilities.

Update: i figured out what they meant by s/o is not the same as my s/o :(

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”.