This pastor decided to skip church one sunday morning and go play golf.
He told his assistant that he wasn't feeling well. He drove to a golf course in another city, so nobody would know him.
He teed off on the first hole. A huge gust of wind caught his ball, carried is an extra hundred yards and dropped it right in the hole, for a 450 yard hole in one.
An angel looked at God and said "What'd you do that for?" God smiled and said "Who's he going to tell?"
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.
Jayden March, a name so bold, Never knew the joy of cookies untold. In a world of sugar and sweet delight, He stood apart, an unusual sight.
While others indulged in sugary bliss, Jayden abstained, dismissing the kiss Of chocolate chips and dough so divine, His willpower strong, his resolve intertwined.
No oatmeal raisin or double fudge, Could tempt his taste buds, not even a nudge. For Jayden March, a different path he took, In a world of cookies, he never partook.
His reasons unknown, a mystery untold, Perhaps he sought something purer than gold. Or maybe he craved a different kind of treat, One that couldn't be found in a cookie sheet.
But as the years passed by, curiosity grew, Whispers of wonder, questions anew. Why did Jayden March deny such delight? Was there a secret hidden in his resolute fight?
Some say he found solace in nature's embrace, In the rustle of leaves and the wind's gentle pace. Others believed his heart sought a different reward, In acts of kindness, love freely poured.
Jayden March, a man of mystery and grace, Marched to a beat only he could embrace. In a world of cookies, he found his own way, Leaving us wondering, pondering day by day.
For though he never tasted the sweetness of a treat, Jayden March's story remains incomplete. A reminder to us all, to explore and define, Our own desires, our own paths to find.
So let us celebrate Jayden's unique choice, And listen to the whisper of our own inner voice. For in a world of cookies, may we remember, That sometimes it's the journey, not the taste, we treasure.
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.
In the realm of Danny, Ben, and Paxton, A trio of souls intertwined, Their stories woven with grace and might, A tale of friendship, ethereal and fine.
Danny, the dreamer with stars in his eyes, Chasing visions that danced in his mind, With every thought, a world he'd create, A poet, an artist, one of a kind.
Ben Power, the steadfast, a force to behold, With strength that could move mountains high, His heart, a fortress, unyielding and bold, A protector, a guardian, forever nigh.
Paxton, the wanderer, a spirit untamed, Roaming free wherever the wind blew, In every step, a new adventure claimed, A seeker, a nomad, forever anew.
Together they stood, a harmonic blend, Different paths converging as one, In the depths of their bond, a love unfurled, A symphony played, forever sung.
Through trials and triumphs, they faced the storm, Hand in hand, against the tempest's might, With laughter, tears, and hearts so warm, They shared the darkness, embracing the light.
Oh, Danny, Ben, and Paxton, forever bound, Through the pages of life, your stories unfold, In the tapestry of friendships profound, Your spirits, like poetry, forever bold.
Roses are red, Violets are blue, Like petals in the wind, My heart dances for you.
How do you blind fold a woman
Put a wind shield in front of them.
what do a gay man and a tumbleweed have in common?
they blow and blow until they wind up on a fence in Wyoming.
Why does the wind always blow from the "West" in Washington State?
Answer; Because IDAHO SUCKS!
Why do women love wind chimes?
They vibrate
Your mama is so fat. She gets winded just thinking about running.
You're so skinny that if I were to put you on a flagpole, you would wave in the wind.
What kind of music do wind turbines like ? They are big , heavy metal fans !
I love when I could run throw the grass and feel the wind on my face. Then my mom told me to get off VR and then I wheeled myself to her
"Humpty dumpty sat on the wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall.... All the kings horses and all the kings men, COULDN'T PUT HUMPTY TOGETHER AGAIN."
"rock-a-bye, baby on the treetop when the wind blows
the cradle will rock when the bough breaks
the cradle will fall and down will come baby cradle and all
rock-a-bye, baby on the treetop when the wind blows the cradle will rock
when the bough breaks the cradle will fall
and down will come baby cradle and all"
Anyone else finding the hidden horror in these?
What is Gaten Matarazzo's Favorite song? Dust-in the wind
🎶Rock a bye baby on the tree Top, when the wind blows the baby will drop. Then the baby will lay on the ground, not moving a muscle not making a sound.🎶
Yesterday I was in a wind storm. Today my ears hurt. I guess the wind was Ear-ittating.
A Woman exclaims that she was robbed she was reading in the dark candles were next to her on she says the thief opens her cabin of Jewelry and leaves and enters from the window.He left the window open so she feels a drift of wind coming towards her.She turns the lights on and sees what happened.The candle wax was going down straight.A police man closes the window and cabin then tells her shes lying just for the cash reward.Why?
Because if the drift of wind came in the candle wax would be dripping to the side not straight!
Jack quietly crawled through Jill’s bedroom window, trying not to make a single noise. She sat on her bed, her back facing him. Jack tiptoed up behind her, laid his hands on her shoulders and said, in a rather sensual tone,
“Boo.”
“Jack!” She yelled, “what are you doing here?”
Jack sat down next to her and smiled.
“I figured today was a good day to maybe go up to the hill?” He said.
“That sounds fun,” said Jill.
“C’mon, let’s go!”
The kids climbed down from Jill’s second story window. The frolicked around in the fields, hair swaying in the wind, as they neared the nearby hill. Jack took Jill’s hand, and they skipped up to the very top of the hill. They sat down on the bright green grass and giggled.
“You ready?” Asked Jack
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jill replied with a wink.
Jack laid his hand on Jill’s chest, softly pushing her onto her back. He got down on his knees, and bent down to the bottom of her dress.
“I’ve waited a long time for this...” he whispered.
Jack slowly pulled up Jill’s dress with one hand, running the other up her thigh. His anticipation was building faster and faster. He looked her in the eyes as he slowly pulled down her panties. Once they were all the way off, he turned his head downward. His mouth opened, his eyes went wide. Jack was speechless. Before he could say anything, Jill slammed his head down, gagging him with her giant cock. She sat up as she slammed his head up and down. Jack began to feel dizzy as he gagged and coughed.
“Silly Jack, didn’t you know? I’m not Jill. I never was. My name’s Randy. You’re mine now, Jack. So sit back, enjoy the ride.” Said Randy.
Randy moved Jack’s head faster and faster as he threw his head back. It was coming, fast. All of a sudden, he stopped. Jack’s head stood still as his mouth became a fountain of white, drizzling all over Randy’s legs and onto the grass. Randy let go and Jack jumped back, spitting and trying to get it all out of his mouth. Just as the dizziness began to fade, Randy walked over. The last thing Jack saw was Randy’s fist hurtling towards him...
