This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
After every line, say “I’m a man.” I went to the club. (I’m a man) I met a girl. (I’m a man) I took her to the bar. (I’m a man) We got some drinks. (I’m a man) I took her home. (I’m a man) We got in bed. (I’m a man) She whispered in my ear, (I’m a man)
Three friends are in a hotel room in Soviet Russia. The first two men open a bottle of vodka, while the third is tired and goes straight to bed. He is unable to sleep however, as his increasingly drunk friends tell political jokes loudly.
After a while, the tired man gets frustrated and walks downstairs for a smoke. He stops in the lounge and asks the receptionist to bring tea to their room in five minutes.
The man walks back into the room, joins the table, leans towards a power outlet and speaks into it:
"Comrade major, we want some tea to room 62 please."
His friends laugh on the joke, until there is a knock on the door. The receptionist brings a teapot. His friends fall silent and pale, horrified of what they just witnessed. The party is dead, and the man goes to sleep.
After a good night's rest, the man wakes up, and notices his friends are gone. Surprised, he walks downstairs and asks the receptionist where they went.
The nervous receptionist whispers that KGB came and took them before dawn.
The man is horrified. He wonders why he was spared.
The receptionist responds:
"Well, comrade major did quite like your tea joke."
I speak for the trees * Trees whisper in my ear* They said six million wasn't enough
Jesus shows up and says you’ve got to go to church. You follow him in and under their breath it sounds like somebody says you steal and you say in your mind knowing you have before I’m sorry then somebody caughs and under their breath it sounds like they say again you steal so you whisper quietly I’m sorry... ...then somebody in German says shoot that son of a bitch
The woman became extremely uncomfortable with the man she had just met. While he lay beside her, romantically kissing and stroking her neck he whispered “I called the number you gave me at the bar tonight. Someone named Alvin answered who has never heard of you.”
This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
I can’t remember if I already said this or not I might of already said this also this is a true story. So I’m walking into a store in Amish country and there’s this guy with a bear trap then my moms friend says this guys gonna catch some bears then the Amish guy stop looks around and whispers “it’s for democrats”
The little girl's dad was Jewish and her mom was Catholic. Mom had been taking the little girl to church every Sunday.
One Sunday, during High Mass, the little girl whispers to her mom, “Mom, can we go home now?”
“No honey, not yet,” replied the mother, “the Mass is only half over.”
“Then we can go now, Mom. I'm half Jewish
gramma:when we go to a wedding whispers ur next
at a funeral iwhisper ur next
Madden, because tissue, I weep Tears like rivers, cascading deep In this world, so full of strife I find solace in this fragile life
Oh tissue, tender and so pure Absorbing pain, a whispered cure Each tear that falls, you gently hold A conduit for the stories untold
In the quiet moments, I confide In your embrace, I can't hide The weight of sorrow, the burden's strain You're there, a balm for every pain
But madden, oh how you disrupt In your chaos, emotions erupt You twist and tangle, hearts collide Leaving us lost, unable to decide
Yet even in your tangled mess You bring forth growth, a rare finesse For in the madness, we find our way To stand tall, facing a brand-new day
So madden, meet tissue, ever entwined In this dance of emotions, our souls aligned Through tears and anger, joy and fears We find strength, as life perseveres
Short and sweet, this tale of strife Unraveling souls, seeking life Madden, because tissue, we may be But we'll rise above, forever free
Joke:What do you call a gay alligator detective? Answer:An Investigator
tech administrator of a school: hm, a message from google security? tech administrator of a school: OH SHIT! assistant: WHAT, WHAT, TELL ME? tech administrator of a school: WEVE BEEN COMPROMISED, WE FORGOT TO SECURE THE SITE! assistant: OK, OK, THE KEY IS NOT TO PANIC... let's call the school board
A FEW MOMENTS LATER
head of school board: HAHAHAHAHAHA! that's a good one, almost as good as the one with jack, jill, and the ripped condom! HAHAHAHAHAHA tech administrator of a school: HAHAHA yeah I know right *whispers* you are playing it cool, right? head of school board: *whispers* yeah were fucked...
TWO HOURS LATER
important fat people in one room: OH FUCK OH NO, HELP PLEASE!!!!! WAIT, HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO TELL THE PARENTS ABOUT THEIR STOLEN INFORMATION!!!
AND SO THAT WAS THE BIRTH OF RIOTING TEACHER
My daughter came home from school later then usual I was panicking then at 5:30pm she arrived not walking but in a bus 🚌 I asked where the hell did this bus come from! She said the garage in the alleyway mama I bought it for five gummies and eight buttons you like her she is called belle bus. My face was just:😑 how did u get the bus here she reply’s with a whisper I drove her through five gardens a house and two police cars! 🙃 so that explains why you have handcuffs on “yeah!”
In my science class we were watching a video and for no reason at all it started talking about Black Lives Matter and my friend leaned over and whispered “white lives matter more”
This joke includes potentially sensitive content.
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 a world of feline folly, There lived a cat with a secret, A taste for adventure and mischief, And a love for KFC's golden treat.
With eyes like emerald jewels, And fur as black as night, This feline prowled the streets, In search of a savory delight.
Oh, how it yearned for chicken, Crispy and finger-lickin' good, But the cat knew it had to be sly, To satisfy its craving like it should.
Through alleyways it stealthily tiptoed, With nimble paws and a stealthy glide, Until it stumbled upon a secret, That made its hunger amplified.
A stash of KFC's golden eggs, Hidden away from prying eyes, An accidental treasure trove, A feast fit for a feline paradise.
With each stolen egg devoured, The cat's satisfaction grew, The taste of crispy breading, And juicy chicken, it knew.
Word soon spread of this food bandit, A legend of a cat so bold, Whispers echoed through the town, Of the one who stole the KFC gold.
But the cat with the KFC get eggs, Remained a mystery to all, A phantom of the night it became, Leaving no trace, no trail to recall.
And so, it continues its nightly quest, For chicken that satisfies its soul, The cat with the KFC get eggs, Forever on the prowl, never to be controlled.
My son asked me “ what is angel cake made of?” I reply by listing the ingredients in mr Kipling angel cakes, Then he shouts “STOP” I stop as I reach food colourings he slowly crawls towards me and says in a whisper “well in my angel cake I put angels in them” I freaked out about this so I calmed down and asked who did you put in this angel cake he said”grandma the one who died last Saturday”
In the realm of words, I shall embark, To craft a verse, both bold and stark, Thomas Bulgin, a name that ignites, A tale of length and moist delights.
Free from the chains of structured rhyme, I wander through this realm, sublime, Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so strange, Evoking thoughts that rearrange.
Long, it stretches, like a winding road, Leading us to depths, yet to be bestowed, In syllables, it dances and it plays, A journey we embark, in myriad ways.
Moist, a word that teems with life, A touch of nature, amidst the strife, It whispers of raindrops on tender leaves, Of dew-kissed petals and gentle heaves.
Thomas Bulgin, a phrase so surreal, Unleashing emotions, that time cannot seal, In this short verse, I strive to convey, A glimpse of what these words might say.
So let us ponder, the mystery untold, Of Thomas Bulgin, both long and bold, For in the realm of poetry's sweet embrace, Even the unusual finds its rightful place.
