Three gay men died, and were going to be cremated. Their lovers happened to be at the funeral home at the same time, and were discussing what they planned to do with the ashes. The first man said, "My Ryan loved to fly, so I'm going up in a plane and scatter his ashes in the sky." The second man said, "My Ross was a good fisherman, so I'm going to scatter his ashes in our favorite lake." The third man said, "My Jack was such a good lover, I think I'm going to dump his ashes in a pot of chili, so he can tear my ass up just one more time."
Did you hear about the Easter egg hunt for the Alzheimer's patients? They hid their own eggs!
So a little kid and a child molester start walking into a forest. They keep walking for what seems like hours, and it gets darker and darker and darker, and the forest gets deeper and deeper and deeper. The kid turns to the child molester and he says "Gee mister, it sure is scary out here!" The child molester says "How do you think I feel, kid? I'm gonna have to walk out of this forest by myself!"
Q: What is the difference between baby and knitting? A: Knitting is weaved by two needles and one ball, but the baby has been made with one needle and two balls!
The best thing after an intensive argument is the peace-sex. But I hate when I argue with my father-in-law.
A magician comes to a seniors' home for entertainment afternoon: "Aaaaand? Is everybody heeere?" Seniors, enthusiastically, "Yeaaaah!" Magician, winking, "But not for looooong...!"
There was a 3 car accident in Mexico yesterday, 84 people were found dead.
What is the difference between Michael Jackson and a grocery bag? One is white, plastic, and dangerous to children. You put groceries in the other.
Yesterday I accidentally hit a little kid with my car. It wasn't serious — nobody saw me.
Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat’s milk. The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. And they start reminiscing. "This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now." "Yes, I remember him as a baby" says the other mother cheerfully. "He’s a martyr now though" mum confides. "Oh, so sad, dear" says the other. "And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21." "Oh, I remember him," says the other happily, "he had such curly hair when he was born." "He’s a martyr too" says mum quietly. "Oh, gracious me…" says the other. "And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18," she whispers. "Yes" says the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he first started school." "He’s a martyr also," says mum, with tears in her eyes. After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says, "They blow up so fast, don’t they?"