Wheres jokes

Yesterday, I was on a reality TV show where they locked me up with all those smelly monkeys from the Leger Zoo. It was complete madness.

If Tim goes to heaven and Tom goes to hell, where does Tam go?

Up your ass.

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.

A Scouser at ground zero just after the twin towers fell asks a passer-by, "What time is it, mate?"

An American replies, "That's a mad accent, where are you from?"

The Scouser says, "Liverpool."

The American says, "Oh, what state is that in?"

The Scouser looks around and says, "About the same state as this, mate, but what time is it?"

Farmer's Wife: Honey, where are the cows?

Farmer: Up in the mountains grazing.

Farmer's Wife: Why?

Farmer: I don't know, but the steaks have never been higher.

Kid: Dad, where do you work?

Dad: I.C.U.P.

Kid: HAHAHAH!!!! See you pee.

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.

Why can't orphans play baseball?

They don't know where the home is.

Some people say I'm rude, but I think I'm pretty nice because the other day I saw this kid crying on the road and I asked him where his parents were. I just love looking at an orphanage.

There are times I miss you, that I wish I could remember where I hid your body.

Where is the best place to eat tacos?

In the Gulp of Mexico.

Where do you go if you lost a pencil?

Office Works! They have solved loads of pencil cases.

If you spell "swim" backwards you get "miws."

Where is my dad?

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.

If lint comes from pockets, where does a cockroach come from?

Where do you find the best comedians?

In the funny farm!

"Where are you? I need to throw you out because Mum said to take out the trash."

Where did Stephen Hawking go after he died?

FNAF Sister Location.

Why can't orphans see all these jokes on this website that we're posting?

'Cause they don't know where the home page is.

Did you see that car crash today where the guy got the entire left side of his body cut off?

He's all right now.