You're jokes

Your hairline is so bad, when you look in the mirror, your hairline looks like an endangered species.

You have two parts of [your] brain, "left" and "right". In the left side, there's nothing right. In the right side, there's nothing left.

Your hairline and my grandpa go way back.

Your mom's so fat, she annexed Crimea!

I'm not saying you're inbred. I'm just saying you're a textbook example of why consanguineous marriage might not be the best idea.

Like if your best friend has a dog.

*walks into a comedy night club* Owner: "You're doing standup tonight, right?" Noob Joker (you): "Yes, I am!" Owner: "Get onto the stage." Me: *walks up stage* Owner: "This is the standup comedian noobpro." Me: "Hey guys, how about some Donald Trump?" Crowd: *RUNS*

Your hairline is like Spiderman: far from forehead.

How do you know if your sister's on her period?

Your dad's dick tastes funny.

What's worse than fingering your sister?

Finding your dad's wedding ring inside her.

Q: What is the difference between two bottles of Whiskey and 2 pretty feminist girls?

A: You don't leave the bottles in the cold and dark forest after you and your 9 friends are finished with them.

Two atoms were walking on a street. One atom said to the other: "I'm feeling really positive today," and the other replied: "I know. I stole your electron." Then the first atom said "How Ionic."

The moment came. The starter dropped his red flag. "They're away!"

Not for one second did Agba need to hunt for Lath in that flying stream of horseflesh. He did not even look for the scarlet and white stripes of the jockey's body-coat. His eyes were fixed on the littlest horse, the littlest horse that got away to a bad start!

The field was far out in front. The big horses were whipping down the steep slope to Devil's Dyke, skimming along the running gap, leaping up the opposite bank and across a long flat stretch. They were beginning to bunch, making narrow gaps. Lath was coming up from behind. He began filling in the gaps. He went through them. He was a blob of watercolor, trickling along the green turf between the other colors.

For a brief second the horses were hidden by a clump of hawthorn trees. Agba's knees tightened. He felt Sham quiver beneath him, saw white flecks of sweat come out on his neck. It was well the grooms were there to hold them both!

The horses were coming around the trees now. The golden blob was still flowing between the other colors. It was flowing beyond them, flowing free!

In full stride, Lath was galloping down the dip and up the rise to the ending post. He was flying past it, leaving the "lusty" horses behind.

"The little horse wins!"

"Lath, an easy winner!"

"Lath, son of Godolphin Arabian, wins!"

People of all ages and all ranks clapped their hands and cheered in wild notes of triumph.

Agba never knew how he and Sham reached the royal stand. But suddenly, there they were. And the Earl of Godolphin was there, too.

"I am pleased to give," Queen Caroline was saying in her sincere, straightforward manner, "I am pleased to give and bestow upon the Earl of Godolphin, the Queen's Plate."

Everyone could see it was not a plate that she held in her hands at all. It was a purse. But only Agba and the Earl knew how much that purse would mean to the future of the horse in England. The Earl looked right between the plumes in the Queen's bonnet and found Agba's eyes for an instant. Then he fell to his knees and kissed the Queen's hand.

A hush fell over the heath. The Queen's words pinged sharp and clear, like the pearls that suddenly broke from her necklace and fell upon the floor of the stand. No one stooped to recover them, for the Queen was speaking.

"And what," she asked, as she fixed one of her own purple plumes in Sham's headstall, "what is the pedigree of this proud sire of three winning horses?"

Agba leaned forward in his saddle.

There was a pause while the Earl found the right words. "Your Majesty," he spoke slowly, thoughtfully, "his pedigree has been...has been lost. But perhaps it was so intended. His pedigree is written in his sons."

How the country people cheered! An unknown stallion wearing the royal purple! It was a fairy tale come true.

The princesses clapped their hands, too. Even the King seemed pleased. He puffed out his chest and nodded to the Queen that the answer was good.

Agba swallowed. He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Quickly, before anyone noticed, he raised his hand to brush it away. His hand stopped. Why, he was growing a beard! He was a man! Suddenly his mind flew back to Morocco. My name is Agba. Ba means father. I will be a father to you, Sham, and when I am grown I will ride you before the multitudes. And they will bow before you, and you will be King of the Wind. I promise it.

He had kept his word!

For the first time in his life, he was glad he could not talk. Words would have spoiled everything. They were shells that cracked and blew away in the wind. He and Sham were alike. That was why they understood each other so deeply.

The Godolphin Arabian stood very still, his regal head lifted. An east wind was rising. He stretched out his nostrils to gather in the scent. It was laden with the fragrance of wind-flowers. Of what was he thinking? Was he re-running the race of Lath? Was he rejoicing in the royal purple? Was he drawing a wood cart in the streets of Paris? Or just winging across the grassy downs in...

Person 1: Somebody farted.

Person 2: No, all I can smell is your breath.

Best way to kiss someone is to lick inside their mouth with your tongue a lot of times, and they will really like it, especially me!! - lizard kiss+ french kiss= SloBbY Kiss.

Thanks for learning and getting advice.

Also, don't be such a horny one!

Two to the one from the one to the three, I like good pussy and I like good trees, Smoke so much weed you wouldn't believe, And I get more ass than a toilet seat.

Three to the one from the one to the three, I met a bad bitch last night in the D, Let me tell you how I made her leave with me, Conversation and Hennessey.

I've been to the motherfuckin' mountain top, Heard motherfuckers talk, seen and dropped, If I ain't got a weapon I'ma pick up a rock, And when I bust yo ass I'ma continue to rock.

Getcha ass of the wall with your two left feet, It's real easy just follow the beat, Don't let that fine girl pass you by, Look real close 'cause strobe lights blind.

Mommy, why is my name Brick???

Mom: When you were a little baby, a brick dropped on your head.

Mommy, why is my name Rose???

Mom: When you were a little baby, a rose petal dropped on your head.

Brick walks in, "Blagudnunag."

Neo-Confederates all claim to be about "heritage" not "hate". Well, if your heritage consists of Kelly Clarkson, riding on siblings, and treating Donald Trump as if he's the second coming, then it really sucks to be you.

I dicked your mom down so good, bitch!

You're so ugly that when you came out of the haunted house, you had a job offer.

God sent a kid to the principal's office for giving a blind kid sunglasses and said, "Don't let the sun damage your eyes!"