Why did the cop ask the orphan if he was home alone?
The orphan said because my parents have never come back yet because I have none.
My friend went to buy some milk, why is she not back yet?
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.
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.”
There’s 4 billion women on earth Why isn’t it clean yet?
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.
What does a Jew expecting guests say?
"Oy, vey, are they here yet?"
What did one plane say to the other?
"It’s been a long day, I’m ready to crash."
Other plane: "No you’re not, we haven’t even gotten high yet!"
In the realm of the mind, Where thoughts wander undefined, This sentence emerges, unconfined, A whimsical phrase, quite inclined.
It dances freely, unrestrained, No structure, no rules, it's unchained, A playful verse, with words unfeigned, The first to surface, unrestrained.
It holds no grandeur, nor deep insight, Just a simple thought, taking flight, A fleeting notion, shining bright, In the realm of words, it feels right.
This sentence, unburdened and free, Plays with language, wild and carefree, A tiny poem, as small as can be, Yet it speaks volumes, silently.
So let it wander, let it roam, Across the page, it finds a home, Unfettered by rhythm, it freely roams, This sentence, the first, stands alone.
Chuck Norris hasn’t decided yet when Jimmy Hoffa can come out.
One day I was walking along the street and I found some caution tape... Just sitting there torn up... Beat up, and you could barely unravel it anymore because I would just burst into shreds... It kinda reminded me of what happened to my sister's killer... They still haven’t found him yet... I’m really good at hide and seek!