jokes

Chuck Norris will never have a heart attack. His heart isn't nearly foolish enough to attack him.

Yo Mama__ so old, her memory is in black and white.

Yo Mama__ so ugly, when she joined an ugly contest, they said, __orry, no professionals.

Yo Mama's like a library, open to the public.

I am a kind of joke, but the question is: which kind? My job is to keep everyone guessing.

Now you are laughing aren't you?? You just came from holiday (AS for me I don't really give a shit from holiday, from walk with friends or whatever..)You are thinking about the one fat guy and you think that you are perfect. - If you are perfect you won't be here transcend people don't have what to achieve they know and they will continue to know everything, it's useless!You have health problems, am I right?You have some buds on places which nobody wants to talk, you think that you are a bigger as a personality - but you smoke (Don't you?? You try to stop it, but again the cigarettes say "Smoke one you will be better, smoke another one you will go to heaven..." - this goes to endless does it??You drink Alcohol - don't ya?I don't have words take a look at yourself you drink for what??? For confidence... oh my god you are fuck fagot aren't you??You smoke, but why I know that chimneys smoke, but you?? Are you chimney, it's a joke! :D :D

In days long past, Jarod said he__ write a sentence about my love, translated in Russian, and that sentence, like my love, is clearly not for sale, unlike his virginity, or this book, which I__ both offering at ten times the market value, so hurry up and buy now, before it goes down.

I have been so very, very fortunate in my life. I've met or been in contact with several of my childhood heroes. I've interacted with people all over this planet, and even though I couldn't possibly hope to remember all their names, I remember a photograph, a poem, a sound, a joke, kind words of encouragement. All is not lost.

Q: What do Jesus and Nicole Brown Simpson have in common? A: They were both killed by the Joooooooose.

The denizens of Feyland find the absence of magic to be quite funny. I mean no offense. ___one taken.___or example _ In the Land Over the Crystal River (for that's how we refer to humans), there was once a man and a woman. And the man was in love with the woman, and wanted her for himself. But because he had no magic, he couldn't feel whether or not there was a __ull_ towards her or not, so he didn't know whether she loved him or not. So what did he do?___hat?___e had to ASK her!_ Kian couldn't help laughing.__ don't get it!___sk her!_ said Kian. __t's funny _ because he didn't have magic._ His laughter grew louder and less controlled, tinkling like bells in the winter snow. __e had to ask her!__ realized that there were some cultural barriers Kian and I might never transcend.

It has been my experience that, even when a man has a sense of humor, it only really carries him to the point where he will join in a laugh at the expense of the other fellow.

The higher you rise in the business ladder, the smaller your balls become.

The right honorable gentleman is indebted to his memory for his jests, and to his imagination for his facts.

Belief is a wonderful way to pass the time until the facts come in.

Sooner or later, all talk among foreigners in Pyongyang turns to one imponderable subject. Do the locals really believe what they are told, and do they truly revere Fat Man and Little Boy? I have been a visiting writer in several authoritarian and totalitarian states, and usually the question answers itself. Someone in a café makes an offhand remark. A piece of ironic graffiti is scrawled in the men's room. Some group at the university issues some improvised leaflet. The glacier begins to melt; a joke makes the rounds and the apparently immovable regime suddenly looks vulnerable and absurd. But it's almost impossible to convey the extent to which North Korea just isn't like that. South Koreans who met with long-lost family members after the June rapprochement were thunderstruck at the way their shabby and thin northern relatives extolled Fat Man and Little Boy. Of course, they had been handpicked, but they stuck to their line.There's a possible reason for the existence of this level of denial, which is backed up by an indescribable degree of surveillance and indoctrination. A North Korean citizen who decided that it was all a lie and a waste would have to face the fact that his life had been a lie and a waste also. The scenes of hysterical grief when Fat Man died were not all feigned; there might be a collective nervous breakdown if it was suddenly announced that the Great Leader had been a verbose and arrogant fraud. Picture, if you will, the abrupt deprogramming of more than 20 million Moonies or Jonestowners, who are suddenly informed that it was all a cruel joke and there's no longer anybody to tell them what to do. There wouldn't be enough Kool-Aid to go round. I often wondered how my guides kept straight faces. The streetlights are turned out all over Pyongyang__hich is the most favored city in the country__very night. And the most prominent building on the skyline, in a town committed to hysterical architectural excess, is the Ryugyong Hotel. It's 105 floors high, and from a distance looks like a grotesquely enlarged version of the Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco (or like a vast and cumbersome missile on a launchpad). The crane at its summit hasn't moved in years; it's a grandiose and incomplete ruin in the making. 'Under construction,' say the guides without a trace of irony. I suppose they just keep two sets of mental books and live with the contradiction for now.

Old Tom giggled, "Fooled ya, huh, Ma? We aimed to fool ya, and we done it. Jus' stood there like a hammered sheep. Wisht Grampa'd been here to see. Looked like somebody'd beat ya between the eyes with a sledge. Grampa would a whacked 'imself so hard he'd a throwed his hip out__ike he done when he seen Al take a shot at that grea' big airship the army got. Tommy, it come over one day, half a mile big, an' Al gets the thirty-thirty and blazes away at her. Grampa yells, 'Don't shoot no fledglin's, Al; wait till a growed-up one goes over,' an' then he whacked 'imself an' throwed his hip out.

I wonder Pa went so easy. I wonder Grampa didn' kill nobody. Nobody never tol' Grampa where to put his feet. An' Ma ain't nobody you can push aroun' neither. I seen her beat the hell out of a tin peddler with a live chicken one time 'cause he give her a argument. She had the chicken in one han', an' the ax in the other, about to cut its head off. She aimed to go for that peddler with the ax, but she forgot which hand was which, an' she takes after him with the chicken. Couldn' even eat that chicken when she got done. They wasn't nothing but a pair of legs in her han'. Grampa throwed his hip outa joint laughin'.

Casy said, "Ol' Tom's house can't be more'n a mile from here. Ain't she over that third rise?"Sure," said Joad. "Less somebody stole it, like Pa stole it."Your pa stole it?"Sure, got it a mile an' a half east of here an' drug it. Was a family livin' there, an' they moved away. Grampa an' Pa an' my brother Noah like to took the whole house, but she wouldn't come. They only got part of her. That's why she looks so funny on one end. They cut her in two an' drug her over with twelve head of horses and two mules. They was goin' back for the other half an' stick her together again, but before they got there Wink Manley come with his boys and stole the other half. Pa an' Grampa was pretty sore, but a little later them an' Wink got drunk together an' laughed their heads off about it. Wink, he says his house is a stud, an' if we'll bring our'n over an' breed 'em we'll maybe get a litter of crap houses. Wink was a great ol' fella when he was drunk. After that him an' Pa an' Grampa was friends. Got drunk together ever' chance they got.