Yesterday Jokes

Chapter 1. "Kid teacher"

Mrs. Lewis: Class, I want everyone to look at their textbooks and find a reasonable essay topic. My suggestion is page 232 or 678. Now this essay counts as the final grade for the semester, now do it or you will repeat 5th grade again! Now turn to page 100 and we'll start reading from there, do you all understand?

Neilela: Yes ma'am, quick question, we don't have to do it today ... do we?

Mrs. Lewis: Yes! Is today!

Andrua: It sounds boring and all I have to do today is be a big jerk who gives way to much of instructions.

Mrs.Lewis : Anyway, let's get to work.

56 hours later.

Mrs. Lewis: Kids, when I call you, please tell me what you liked about your eassy. When I call your name Carl.

Carl: Why me. Yes?

Mrs.Lewis : What did you like about the story Carl?

Carl: Um ... I liked it when ... um ... um ... um ... um ...

Jeklen: He didn't even read the story because he's to busy trying to look up the letter "J" and its meaning!

Carl: Jeklen shut up and stop biting your hair.

Jeklen: At least I know what the letter "J" is.

Mrs. Lewis: Class, please listen. Carl, did you read the story that I asked you?

Carl: Will, not really because you were the one reading it in class, so ...

Vronica: For real!

Carl: Mhmmm

Mrs.Lewis: Listen class, this homework needs to be done today! DO IT!

Kimbriel: Ms. Lewis, I have a lot of questions about tonight's homework.

Mrs.Lewis: Yes?

Kimbriel: You assigned so many things just for a little test! What?

Mrs.Lewis: I need a break! Peyton, you're in charge!

All students: NO, NOT PEYTON !!!!!!

Peyton: Me? In charge? Of the class?

Jessica: Wow, but you're all about the bordom!

Peyton: Shut up! yeeeeeeee

Peyton: Ms. Lewis, there must be a mistake, how can I be in charge? I'm 11 ... I think ...

Ari: To think that yesterday she thought she was 8 years old.

Oh sorry ... I think.

Mrs. Lewis: Have you ever heard of a teacher's vacation?

All students: That not a thing!

I never heard it ...

Mrs. Lewis: Will, me and Ms. Sumrall, we are going on a "teacher vacation", we can do it because we become calmer or we don't get angry at the students. AND WE CAN DO IT!

Khloe: Why?

Mrs. Lewis: Because I am an adult.

Ms. Sumrall: Is Petrina ready?

Ms. Lewis: Yes, thank goodness for this!

Kenya: Bye? "Chapter 2" To be continued...

Chocolate rain Some stay dry and others feel the pain Chocolate rain A baby born will die before the sin Chocolate rain The school books say it can't be here again Chocolate rain The prisons make you wonder where it went Chocolate rain Build a tent and say the world is dry Chocolate rain Zoom the camera out and see the lie Chocolate rain Forecast to be falling yesterday Chocolate rain Only in the past is what they say Chocolate rain Raised your neighborhood insurance rates Chocolate rain Makes us happy 'livin in a gate Chocolate rain Made me cross the street the other day Chocolate rain Made you turn your head the other way Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again Chocolate rain Seldom mentioned on the radio Chocolate rain It's the fear your leaders call control Chocolate rain Worse than swearing worse than calling names Chocolate rain Say it publicly and you're insane Chocolate rain No one wants to hear about it now Chocolate rain Wish real hard it goes away somehow Chocolate rain Makes the best of friends begin to fight Chocolate rain But did they know each other in the light? Chocolate rain Every February washed away Chocolate rain Stays behind as colors celebrate Chocolate rain The same crime has a higher price to pay Chocolate rain The judge and jury swear it's not the face Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again Chocolate rain Dirty secrets of economy Chocolate rain Turns that body into GDP Chocolate rain The bell curve blames the baby's DNA Chocolate rain But test scores are how much the parents make Chocolate rain Flippin' cars in France the other night Chocolate rain Cleans the sewers out beneath Mumbai Chocolate rain 'Cross the world and back it's all the same Chocolate rain Angels cry and shake their heads in shame Chocolate rain Lifts the ark of paradise in sin Chocolate rain Which part do you think you're livin' in? Chocolate rain More than marchin', more than passing law Chocolate rain Remake how we got to where we are Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again Chocolate rain History quickly crashing through your veins Chocolate rain Using you to fall back down again

A politician dies So a politician dies and ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book, and finds his name.

"So, you're a politician..." "Well, yes, is that a problem?" "Oh no, no problem. But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work, and unfortunately, you will have to spend a day in Hell. After that, however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"

"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" says the politician. "Them's the rules," Says St Peter, clicks his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappears...

And awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he's in Hell. Cautiously, he listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone, and finds... Nothing. Just the smell of, is that fabric softener? And cut grass, this can't be, right?

"Open your eyes!" says a voice. "C'mon, wakey, we've only got 24 hours!". Nervously, he uncovers his eyes, looks around, and sees he's in a hotel room. A nice one too. Wait, this is a penthouse suite... And there's a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. "Who are you??" The politician asks. "Well, I'm Satan!" says the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!" "Wait, this is Hell? But... Where are all the pain and suffering?" he asks. Satan throws him a wink. "Oh, we've been a bit misrepresented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room! The minibar is, of course, free, as is the room service, there are extra towels next to the hot tub, and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this! It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wanders over to the floor-to-ceiling windows through which the sun is glowing, looks far down, and sees a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on-site, and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question. So they head down in the lift and walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the man, as Satan signs autographs and cheerily talks shop with the laughing staff. And as he walks out, he sees the group on the golf course is made up of every one of his old friends, people he's admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he's admired but died long before his career started. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife, with a massive smile and the body she had when she was 20, who throws her arms around him and plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheers and applauds, and as they slap him on the back and trade jokes, his worst enemy arrives, as a 2-foot-tall goblin-esque caddy. He spends the day in the bright sunshine on the course, having the time of his life laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, putting the world to rights with his friends while holding his delighted wife next to him as she gazes lovingly at him. Later, they return to the hotel for dinner and have an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descends into a food fight when someone accidentally throws a bread roll at the next table (where Gandhi is having a game of truth-or-dare with Marylin Monroe). As everyone is falling about laughing and flinging breadsticks at each other, his wife whispers in his ear... And they return to their penthouse suite and spend the rest of the night making love as they did on their honeymoon. After 6 hours of intense passion, the man falls deep into the 100% Egyptian cotton pillows and falls into a deep and happy sleep...

And is woken up by St Peter. "So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?" "No sir!" says the man. "So then," says St Peter "you can make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on". "Well... I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" Says St Peter, and clicks his fingers again.

The man wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of razor wire in the other. "What's this??" He cries. "Where's the hotel?? Where's my wife??? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks, and the sunshine???"

"Ah", says Satan. "You see, yesterday, we were campaigning. But today, you voted..."

There's a man crawling through the desert. He'd decided to try his SUV in a little bit of cross-country travel, had great fun zooming over the badlands and through the sand, got lost, hit a big rock, and then he couldn't get it started again. There were no cell phone towers anywhere near, so his cell phone was useless. He had no family, his parents had died a few years before in an auto accident, and his few friends had no idea he was out here. He stayed with the car for a day or so, but his one bottle of water ran out and he was getting thirsty. He thought maybe he knew the direction back, now that he'd paid attention to the sun and thought he'd figured out which way was north, so he decided to start walking. He figured he only had to go about 30 miles or so and he'd be back to the small town he'd gotten gas in last. He thinks about walking at night to avoid the heat and sun, but based upon how dark it actually was the night before, and given that he has no flashlight, he's afraid that he'll break a leg or step on a rattlesnake. So, he puts on some sun block, puts the rest in his pocket for reapplication later, brings an umbrella he'd had in the back of the SUV with him to give him a little shade, pours the windshield wiper fluid into his water bottle in case he gets that desperate, brings his pocket knife in case he finds a cactus that looks like it might have water in it, and heads out in the direction he thinks is right. He walks for the entire day. By the end of the day he's really thirsty. He's been sweating all day, and his lips are starting to crack. He's reapplied the sunblock twice, and tried to stay under the umbrella, but he still feels sunburned. The windshield wiper fluid sloshing in the bottle in his pocket is really getting tempting now. He knows that it's mainly water and some ethanol and coloring, but he also knows that they add some kind of poison to it to keep people from drinking it. He wonders what the poison is, and whether the poison would be worse than dying of thirst. He pushes on, trying to get to that small town before dark. By the end of the day he starts getting worried. He figures he's been walking at least 3 miles an hour, according to his watch for over 10 hours. That means that if his estimate was right that he should be close to the town. But he doesn't recognize any of this. He had to cross a dry creek bed a mile or two back, and he doesn't remember coming through it in the SUV. He figures that maybe he got his direction off just a little and that the dry creek bed was just off to one side of his path. He tells himself that he's close, and that after dark he'll start seeing the town lights over one of these hills, and that'll be all he needs. As it gets dim enough that he starts stumbling over small rocks and things, he finds a spot and sits down to wait for full dark and the town lights. Full dark comes before he knows it. He must have dozed off. He stands back up and turns all the way around. He sees nothing but stars. He wakes up the next morning feeling absolutely lousy. His eyes are gummy and his mouth and nose feel like they're full of sand. He so thirsty that he can't even swallow. He barely got any sleep because it was so cold. He'd forgotten how cold it got at night in the desert and hadn't noticed it the night before because he'd been in his car. He knows the Rule of Threes - three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food - then you die. Some people can make it a little longer, in the best situations. But the desert heat and having to walk and sweat isn't the best situation to be without water. He figures, unless he finds water, this is his last day. He rinses his mouth out with a little of the windshield wiper fluid. He waits a while after spitting that little bit out, to see if his mouth goes numb, or he feels dizzy or something. Has his mouth gone numb? Is it just in his mind? He's not sure. He'll go a little farther, and if he still doesn't find water, he'll try drinking some of the fluid. Then he has to face his next, harder question - which way does he go from here? Does he keep walking the same way he was yesterday (assuming that he still knows which way that is), or does he try a new direction? He has no idea what to do. Looking at the hills and dunes around him, he thinks he knows the direction he was heading before. Just going by a feeling, he points himself somewhat to the left of that, and starts walking. As he walks, the day starts heating up. The desert, too cold just a couple of hours before, soon becomes an oven again. He sweats a little at first, and then stops. He starts getting worried at that - when you stop sweating he knows that means you're in trouble - usually right before heat stroke. He decides that it's time to try the windshield wiper fluid. He can't wait any longer - if he passes out, he's dead. He stops in the shade of a large rock, and takes the bottle.

“BETTER NATE THAN LEVER!!!”