Whip Jokes

Slavery and disciplinen it's kind of the same thing you get whipped for doing the wrong thing

Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He’s not breathing and his eyes are glazed. The other guy whips out his cell phone and calls 911.

“I think my friend is dead!” he yells. “What can I do?”

The operator says, “Calm down. First, let’s make sure he’s dead.”

There’s a silence, then a shot. Back on the phone, the guy says, “OK, now what?”

Kid: *runs down the street* HELP ME Officer: you ok kid? Me: dont worry! hes my nephew, there was a big spider Officer: oh ok ma'am *walks off* When officer leaves: Me: *gets whip* what did I say about leaving the basement

Azibo works 10 hours a day in the sun and is paid 1 euro an hour. Thanks to a fundraiser we will be able to raise the necessary funds to buy a whip to make him work twice as much.

If a cat hits you with her tail is it considered being pussy whipped?

Your hair line go so far back that it was getting wip in the 1800

What do you call a 96-year-old who can still masturbate?

miracle whip

So the other day my black friend work are group project he was so slow so I whipped him to make him faster

Me when my girlfriend comes home I check her phone and there are 100 texts from a different guy asking her out and her text says yes. Get the whip your out

What did the lion say to the lion tamer nothing because when the lion tamer whipped the lion the lion killed him

Damn, the guy who made the Whip/ Nae Nae song really made his cousin go Silento

The Trump cocktail. Take a large glass and fill it with an ounce of everything behind the bar. Top it with whipped cream and a cherry. Now for the hard part: finding a Mexican to pay for it.

I guy once went hunting at a Hunting Ranch .After a long day of hunting, the hunter enjoys a couple of cold ones in Rancher’s Living-room .There they were having a grand ole time then the Ranchers wife walks in .The Hunter says “that’s a nice piece of ass you got your self there”,The Rancher replied “(harsh raspy Southern chuckle from years of Marlboro Reds)You’ve never been so right in your life ,honey why don’t show our guest your tits”,.She agrees and shows the hunter her plump DD cup breast.The Hunter says “Nice”,then Rancher said show em yer peker now.She agreed and whipped out a 13 in Johny .Dazed and confused the Hunter says “What in Sam Hill is that!!”,and the Rancher replied “Now....Lemme tell you..There ain’t a thing like it”.

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