Will jokes

VOTING FINAL This vote is for the best School Shooter joke of the month.

LIKE: When the school shooter is about to leave your classroom and the autistic kid’s sketchers light up.

DISLIKE: When you’re playing dead and the school shooter starts unbuckling his belt and you hear him say “This boy always had a fat ass”.

Vote for the better joke and the Joke of the Month will be announced in the comments tomorrow.

I know a good airplane joke, but it will probably go over your head.

Twin Towers: "No, it won't."

What did a cat say to the dog?

"I will kill and eat you hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehhehehehehehehehehehehheehehhehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehheeehehehehehehehe"

What planets do Astronauts like to pee on?

Uranus!

(Say this out loud and it will make more sense.)

Gather 6 friends to play Russian roulette, and one's mind will be blown away.

Give a man a match, and he'll be warm for a few hours.

Set a man on fire, and he will be warm for the rest of his life.

All countries will get Covid.

Except China, they got it right off the bat.

Men and women are not equal, speaking biologically and mentally. I don't care what other feminists say. Men are naturally physically stronger, while women are more mentally stable (sometimes). The internet and the media will lie. You feminists say that you are stronger. Well, you wish. You can't hit a girl because she is more sensitive, but she says she is stronger. Like, what the hell?

We're not sexist men; you're sexist women. And BTW, you'll rot in hell for hating God's creation. And also, men were created before women. Search it up in the Bible or online.

What do your teacher and your friend have in common? They will both die eventually.

Do you know the teacher that went up into space?

You know what her husband said to her? "I will feed the dog; you feed the fish."

Say "Mike Wizowski" fast to a teenager and I will get you $100000000000.

Before my grandad died, he whispered to me, "Is your uncle still in the basement?" I said he has died. Oh, my grandad said, "I will lock him in heaven's basement."

What’s the difference between a Catholic priest and a zit?

A zit will wait until you’re twelve before it comes on your face.

Why did God build a stairway to heaven?

So all the disabled people will have to go to hell.

Why don’t violists play hide and seek?

Because no one will look for them.

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...

I will always remember my baby sister's last words: "What is the fire for?"

@everyone.. what's so funny is that JIT thinks he's so "cool" and that everyone is "amazed" about him hating on people who is wayyy above him on the roster.

The pathetic part is that he hates on everyone else's family and relationships when 100% of us have a WAYY better one than he will ever deserve. He was born pathetic, and will die pathetic. So JIT, please tell me what it's like to be such a coward?

You don't need brains to be a Boss.

When the body was first created, all the parts wanted to be Boss. The brain said, "I should be Boss because I control all of the body's responses and functions."

The feet said, "We should be Boss since we carry the brain about and get him to where he wants to go."

The hands said, "We should be the Boss because we do all the work and earn all the money."

Finally, the asshole spoke up. All the parts laughed at the idea of the asshole being the Boss. So, the asshole went on strike, blocked itself up and refused to work.

Within a short time, the eyes became crossed, the hands clenched, the feet twitched, the heart and lungs began to panic, and the brain fevered. Eventually, they all decided that the asshole should be the Boss, so the motion was passed. All the other parts did all the work while the Boss just sat and passed out the shit!

Moral Of The Story: You don't need a brain to be a Boss----any asshole will do.

Q: Do you know why God created yeast infections?

A: So women will know what it's like to live with an irritating cunt, too.