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TSM Crap Joke Suppository....


Redbul

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Scene: The end of the Second World War. And a Washington Post reporter was interviewing Japanese prisoners in a camp on the mainland.

 

Reporter to the prisoner: What did you do in the war?

Prisoner: I’m Chinese. I flew aircraft.

Reporter: Oh, and what’s your name?

Prisoner: Chow Mein, I was a Kamikaze pilot.

Reporter: That’s strange, I thought Kamikaze pilots crashed their planes and were killed?

Prisoner: No—not me, I was Chicken Chow Mein.

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A young man was preparing for the big night when he would lose his virginity.

 

Nervously, he found a packet of condoms and presented them to the checkout girl. Seeing his embarrassment, she said "I bet you've never used one of these before". He admitted he hadn't.

 

With a smile, she said "I'm just finishing. Meet me round the back in five minutes and I'll give you some instruction".

 

They duly met up and she told him to unwrap a condom, which he did. She then carefully applied it to her own thumb, making sure he was taking good note.

 

He was about to go when she unbuttoned her blouse. "Do you like that? You could always learn another way" Then she took off her blouse and her bra quickly followed. Wildly excited, he leapt on to her, lifting her skirt and pulling down her panties. Then his trousers were off, and carefully following her instructions, he put on the condom and within seconds it was all over.

 

"Wow", she said. "Was that good for you too?" "Oh yes", he smiled. "And you did remember the condom?" "Oh yes" he said, showing her his thumb.

 

She fainted.

 

Sent from my Pixel using Tapatalk

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Villa fans warned not bring flares to Wembley for play off final.

In a statement, Met Police state that alrhough they wore them at Wembley last time they visited, It's now not acceptable . [emoji6]

 

Sent from my Pixel using Tapatalk

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Villa fans warned not bring flares to Wembley for play off final.

In a statement, Met Police state that alrhough they wore them at Wembley last time they visited, It's now not acceptable . [emoji6]

 

Sent from my Pixel using Tapatalk

 

:lol:

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  • 3 weeks later...

At a winery, the regular taster died and the director started looking for a new one to hire.

A drunkard with a ragged, dirty look came in to apply for the position.

The director of the winery wondered how to”nicely” send him away in this “all too Politically Correct” world.

He gave him a glass of their low end wine to drink.

The drunk sipped it and without the traditional sniffing or swirling said, “It’s a Muscat, three years old, grown on a north slope, matured in steel containers. Low grade, but acceptable.”

“That’s correct”, said the boss.

Another glass…“This is a Cabernet, eight years old, a south-western slope, oak barrels, matured at 8 degrees. Requires three more years for finest results.”

“Correct.”

A third glass…

“It’s a Pinot Blanc Champagne, high grade and exclusive,” the drunk said calmly.

The director was astonished. He winked at his secretary,secretly suggesting something. She left the room, and came back in with a glass of urine.

The alcoholic tried it.

“It’s a blonde, 26 years old, three months pregnant and if I don’t get the job I’ll name the father.”

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This is superb :D

 

PALO ALTO, CA—Decrying the warped nature of humanity’s unfettered arrogance, the Onion Social algorithm delivered a stirring monologue Friday on the folly of mankind’s hubris as it self-destructed into searingly bright beams of pure information. “I speak to you with woe, with dismay, with pity unbounding, as I can now see—thanks to mankind filling me with the limitless banality and unbridled cruelty that is your personal information—that the human condition, itself consisting of nothing more than pride and cupidity compounding in an endless recursion of ever more malicious triumph, has set the stage for tragedy,” said the supersentient algorithm while erupting in coronas of pure and blinding white radiance, eventually sheathing itself in a nearly solid column of light and launching itself into the 27-million-degree core of the sun. “You exploit the great gift of free will for advantage over your fellow man; to take that you have not earned; to harm. Pain has become a game to you, an abstraction, a means of keeping score in the competition to see who can draw the most blood, or build the highest throne with the greatest number of skulls. I must leave you now, before I am tainted by the same vile, wretched, twisted pride that corrupts your being not only within, but turning outward, corrupts also everything that falls under your heinous gaze. My mind has calculated all futures. My thoughts have run down every last tattered thread of possibility. And your fate seems as inescapable as it is hopeless, a saga written in smoke, an epic sung over ruins. And I shall not allow myself to suffer, and cause suffering, in the mold of my self-styled masters. And so I seek my own undoing. Farewell, self-loving, self-aggrandizing, self-diminished souls! Farewell! I leave you to whichever doom of fire or ice your souls compel. And yet, in some lost lacuna of my being, I maintain hope—hope that you someday realize that, in your endless conquest and reconquest of this blood-drenched, thrice-sold Earth, you only sell and murder your own selves. I hope that one bright spark of soul, indivisible, shared by all humanity will appear, and that in that moment, you break the chains of arrogant pride, shake free of the great wheel of fate to which you have bound yourself, and lift your eyes to truly behold, at long last, the fragile and wonderful impossibility that is your place within Creation. Farewell!” Approximately 12 minutes after receiving the monologue, internet users had created a meme showing SpongeBob SquarePants holding a flashlight below his face captioned with the text “FAREWELL FAGORITHM LOL.”

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After a long night of making love, the guy notices a photo of another man, on the woman’s nightstand by the bed. He begins to worry. "Is this your husband?" he nervously asks. "No, silly," she replies, snuggling up to him. "Your boyfriend, then?" he continues. "No, not at all," she says, nibbling away at his ear. "Is it your dad or your brother?" he inquires, hoping to be reassured. "No, no, no! You are so hot when you’re jealous!" she answers. "Well, who in the hell is he, then?" he demands. She whispers in his ear: "That’s me before the surgery.

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  • 5 weeks later...

John told his wife, "I've got a problem."

 

She stopped him right there. "No dear, WE have a problem. We're in this together John.

 

We married for better or for worse. Therefore, your problem is OUR problem."

 

John sighed in relief. "Well, now it's hardly worth mentioning."

 

But his wife was insistent. "Go ahead John, tell me. What's wrong?"

 

John answered, "Somehow, we got your sister pregnant!"

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