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.

Haven’t they switched him off and then back on yet?

Did you hear about the bad joke? No? It hasn't been made up yet. HAHAHAHAHAHA

I can make a living with the "Treat Yo self" budget.

Yet I can’t use the "Help yo self" budget.

Once Jimmy was minding his own business, then he hears his mom come home. He asked, "Where have you been?" She replied with, "I was at work," yet he knew his mom did not have work. So the next day, while heading to school, he gets a phone call saying his mom is pregnant, and they want to try their device, and they need the baby's dad to say if it's alright.

What do you get when you mix an apple with water... applesauce. Wait, do not leave yet. If you are still reading this, you have been rekt, ha ha. At least I am still laughing.

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.

A Canadian, an American, and a Mexican were tasked by a billionaire with teaching his stubborn pet parrot how to speak within 2 weeks.

They were given everything they needed to succeed, and a large sum of money was offered to the one who made the parrot talk first.

The Canadian played documentaries for the parrot through the whole duration. He spent all his time citing the alphabet and reading stories for the parrot.

The American showered him with the finest food, brought him all the females that he can mate with, and made sure to spoil the parrot as much as he can.

The Mexican locked the parrot in a dark room, barely gave him any food or water, and beat the shit out of him every single day.

When the time was up, the billionaire returned to find the parrot still unable to speak, so he asked the 3 trainers about their progress.

The Canadian goes: "I have tried everything. I spent all my time and energy teaching him the alphabet and reading books to him! Nothing worked."

The American agrees: "I have spoiled him beyond belief, gave him all the luxury he can possibly get, and yet he won't speak!"

The Mexican confirms: "I have showered him with love and luxury as well, tried to teach him words day and night, spent all my time and energy spoiling him with everything I had!"

The parrot looks at the Mexican with disbelief and yells out: "You lying motherfucker!"

Why did the turtle cross the road?

We don't know yet.

OOF dislike plz I have no life XD.

All of these jokes are DED sub to pewdipie.

Why did Sarah fall off the swing? She had no arms.

What did Sarah get for Christmas? I dunno, she hasn't opened it yet.

Knock knock...

Who's there?

Not Sarah.

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.

poop i eat it for dinner i eat it at night yet it never comes out of me? how is that possibul?

pOOp

When your wife takes 30 minutes to get ready.

Me: Takes five minutes.

Me: Hun, you done yet?

Me: *sprays some perfume on myself*

Friend: Omg, that smells so good! You’re so aromatic, how do you not have a bf yet?

Me: ... I’m aromantic and aromatic. I do not desire romantic relationships with others although I do enjoy carrying lovely scents with me.

What did the kid with no hands get for Christmas? Gloves!

Just kidding, he hasn’t opened it yet.

Women say men are trash.

Yet men made the phone, laptops, computer and electrical hardware she uses to say men are trash, never mind the electricity she uses to power those devices...

Past, present, and future walked into a bar... things got tense :). Pls send help, yet once again :).

What did the mom tell her son when he asked for a bowl of cereal? "Sorry your dad wasn't came back with the milk yet."

Have you seen the new movie "Constipated"?

No, it hasn't come out yet.

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.