Yet

Yet Jokes

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.

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.

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.

Water bottles, strong, Standing tall, like sturdy men, Quenching every thirst.

Clear and transparent, Reflecting strength and resolve, Resilient and pure.

In hand, they offer Refreshing relief, like hugs, Soothing every soul.

Water bottles, like men, Nourish and hydrate our lives, Simple yet vital.

In pixels and polygons, a virtual realm unfolds, A battleground where warriors gather, young and old. A game of wits and strategy, a dance of skill and might, Behold the phenomenon, the world of Fortnite.

What is Fortnite, you ask, this digital sensation? A realm where dreams are forged, in endless animation. A world of endless possibilities, where heroes rise and fall, A tapestry of triumph, where victory calls.

From humble beginnings, a storm begins to brew, A hundred souls drop down, with dreams anew. An island vast and varied, a landscape to explore, From verdant meadows to urban cities, the battles roar.

With pickaxe in hand, we gather resources with haste, Wood, metal, and stone, the foundation of our base. We build and we craft, constructing our fort, A fortress of defense, where enemies are fought.

The storm looms ever closer, a force we can't deny, Pushing us closer together, as time quickly flies. We strategize and plan, our tactics ever shifting, In this ever-shrinking world, our spirits uplifting.

Weapons and loot, scattered throughout the land, We arm ourselves with firepower, take our final stand. Shotguns, rifles, explosives, and more, In this game of survival, we even the score.

But Fortnite is more than just a battle royale, A canvas for creativity, where imaginations set sail. From creative mode to party royale, a world of endless fun, With friends and strangers, united as one.

Yet amidst the chaos, let's not forget, Fortnite is but a game, a virtual vignette. For beyond the pixels and the storms that rage, Lies a world that beckons, beyond the digital stage.

So let us embrace the joy that Fortnite brings, A tapestry of moments, where victory sings. For in this realm of pixels and dreams, Fortnite shines bright, a testament it seems.

So gather your friends, embark on this quest, In the realm of Fortnite, put your skills to the test. For in the end, it's not just about the game we play, But the bonds we form, as we dance and slay.

In a world bizarre, Penis burgers, strange delight, Tantalizing taste.

Buns shaped curiously, Meat, a bold centerpiece, Lingering delight.

Sizzling grill, they sizzle, Juicy secrets unfold, Hidden pleasures found.

Tempting, yet absurd, Controversial cuisine, Curiosity piques.

Daring, adventurous, Palates embark on a quest, Uncharted flavors.

But let us not dwell, On the phallic form they hold, For taste transcends all.

Beyond flesh-shaped buns, Flavors dance upon our tongues, A feast for senses.

So let us partake, In this culinary art, With open-minded hearts.

Ted Bundy walks into a bar wearing all black. The bartender asks, “Whose funeral is it?”

Ted Bundy looks around the room and replies, “I haven’t decided yet.”

My son wore his new "Go Vegan" Hoodie for the first time today, and already he's been verbally abused as well as being punched, kicked, & spat on!!!!

And he's not even left the house yet!!!

The median salary of a clown is $36,763. And yet, here you are, doing it for free.

In the heart of a circular, creamy delight, there exists a void, a singular absence that adds to its charm. This hollow space, a perfect round, is a testament to the artistry of nature and man's culinary skills.

The hole, a silent observer, bears witness to the transformation of the substance around it, from a liquid state to a firm, yet supple form. It's a silent testament to the passage of time, a symbol of patience and the magic of fermentation.

The void, despite its emptiness, contributes to the overall aesthetic, making the slice a visual treat. It's a playful peek-a-boo with the world beyond, a window that adds mystery and intrigue.

In the end, the hole is not just a void, but a character in the story of this culinary masterpiece, a silent protagonist that adds depth and character to the narrative. It's a testament to the beauty of imperfection, a celebration of the unique and the unconventional.

The other day, I stumbled upon a comic strip in the newspaper. As I started reading, I could feel a smile creeping onto my face. The characters were so relatable, their situation so absurd, yet so familiar, it was impossible not to find it amusing.

The punchline was unexpected, yet it made perfect sense within the context of the story. It was that surprise, that sudden twist, that made me burst out laughing. It was as if the comic strip had set up a joke and I had walked right into it, completely unsuspecting. The laughter bubbled up from within me, a spontaneous reaction to the unexpected humor.

In that moment, I realized the power of humor. It's not just about making people laugh. It's about bringing joy, about making people see the world from a different perspective, even if just for a moment. And that's why I found that comic strip so funny. It wasn't just a joke, it was a moment of joy, a moment of surprise, a moment of seeing the world in a different light.

A Russian wife turned to her husband and asked...

"What's this special military operation our glorious leader keeps talking about?"

Her husband replied, "It's a proxy war between Russia and NATO."

"Oh, right. How's it going?"

"Well," he replied, "so far we've lost 200,000 soldiers, 4,000 tanks, 500 aircraft, numerous helicopters, loads of armoured vehicles and artillery pieces along with our 'flag ship'."

"Wow! What about NATO?"

"They haven't turned up yet."

Why don’t orphans understand the meaning of a family reunion? Because there not wanted yet maybe they should rob a 🏦 bank;)

Tell the person next to you to spell "me." When they do, say, "You forgot the D." They should respond with, "There is no D in ME." You say, "Not yet." If this does not go as planned, well, then you are fucked for life.

I just got my COVID vaccine, and this lady said, "You have no idea what you put in your body." I said, "Yet you are eating chorizo."

Johnny Depp fans claim to support their god because they sympathize with male victims of sexual assault. Yet a large chunk of them cheer on Wacko Jacko raping little boys, calling it "innocent".