Word

Word jokes

Actor

    • Actor 1: "I'm Michael with a b and I hate insects."

    Actor 2: "Where's the b?"

    Actor 1: "THERE'S A BEE???????????!!!!!!!!!!!????????!!!!!"

  • 0

    • Chocolate

    • "Milk, milk, lemonade, around the corner, chocolate's made." (Point to your boobs, vagina/crouch area, and then to your butt area in sync with words.)

  • 0
    • Word memes

    Sister

    • SOOOO my sister said her first bad word yesterday. "Shit." My mum was like, "What did you just say, child?"

    Sister: "I said the cat shits inside like the dog shi- uh oh......"

    Now I've avoided this stuff by making my own word: Sugarplum. Sugarplum = shit...

    My sister made some pie, and it tasted horribly... so I said this.... "This pie is very sugarplum-y." She said, "What do you mean by that?" I said, "It tastes like sugarplums..."

  • 1

    • Man

    • What's an old Japanese man's last words?

    "Hey, that cloud looks like a mushroom, or is it just me?"

  • 2

    • Song

    • Stressed Out - By - Twenty One Pilots and watersharky Music Productions - I wish I found some better sounds No one's ever heard. I wish I had a better voice That sang some better words. I wish I found some chords In an order that is new. I wish I didn't have to rhyme Every time I sang.

    I was told when I get older All my fears would shrink. But now I'm insecure And I care what people think. My name's Blurryface and I care what you think. My name's Blurryface and I care what you think.

    Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out We're stressed out

    Sometimes a certain smell will Take me back to when I was young How come I'm never able to identify Where it's coming from? I'd make a candle out of it If I ever found it Try to sell it, never sell out of it I'd probably only sell one. It'd be to my brother, cause we have the same nose Same clothes, home grown The stone's throw from a creek we used to roam But it would remind us of when Nothing really mattered Out of student loans and tree house homes We all would take the latter My name's Blurryface and I care what you think My name's Blurryface and I care what you think

    Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out

    Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face singing "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship And then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face singing "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah

    Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out Wish we could turn back time To the good old days When our momma sang us to sleep But now we're stressed out

    We used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money Used to play pretend, used to play pretend, money We used to play pretend, wake up you need the money Used to play pretend Give each other different names We would build a rocket ship And then we'd fly it far away Used to dream of outer space But now they're laughing at our face saying "Wake up, you need to make money", yeah

    Poem

    • Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A man with a spirit untamed, untold. With eyes that pierce through the darkest night, He walks a path that's far from light.

    His steps are loud, his presence strong, A force of nature, where he belongs. Through the chaos, he finds his way, Leaving footprints that never fade.

    A rebel soul, unafraid to speak, His words drip with passion, so unique. He dances with danger, embraces the unknown, Challenging limits, into the wild he's thrown.

    No rules can bind him, no walls can contain, Frank Bulgin sets fire to the mundane. He paints the sky with vibrant hues, A kaleidoscope of dreams he pursues.

    In his mind, a symphony of thoughts, An artist's palette, where inspiration is sought. He weaves words like a masterful bard, Creating tapestries that leave us marred.

    With each verse, he unravels his soul, Unveiling the depths that make him whole. His poetry, a window to his essence, A glimpse into a world of fearless presence.

    Frank Bulgin is freaky bold, A maverick, a legend yet to be told. His spirit roams, forever untamed, A beacon of courage, never to be tamed.

  • 1