This is because they're filled with anty bodies.
Your mom saying goodbye at family parties and/or finding a friend at the mall
ABSENTEE A missing golfing accessory
AUTOBIOGRAPHY The car’s logbook
AVOIDABLE What a bullfighter tries to do
BERNADETTE The act of torching a mortgage
BOOKCASE Litigation about a novel
BURGLARISE What a crook sees with
CABBAGE The fare you pay to a taxi driver
CAUTERISE Made eye contact with her
COUNTERFEITERS Workers who put together kitchen cabinets
DILATE To live long
ECLIPSE What an English barber does for a living
EYEDROPPER A clumsy ophthalmologist
GRANARY Home for old women
HEROES A guy manning the oars in a boat
HUMBUG Singing insect
LEFT BANK What the robber did when his bag was full of money
MISTY How golfers create divots
NONDESCRIPT Italian actors ad-libbing
NITRATES Cheaper then day rates
PARADOX Two physicians
PARASITES What you see from the top of the Eiffel Tower
PHARMACIST A helper on the farm
POLARISE What penguins see with
POST OPERATIVE A letter deliverer
PRIMATE Removing your spouse from in front of the TV
RECOVERY ROOM A place to do upholstery
RELIEF What trees do in the spring
RUBBERNECK What you do to relax your wife
TERMINAL ILLNESS Getting sick at the airport
SELFISH What the owner of a seafood store does
URINE Or you’re out
Wife: Use it in a sentence.
Me: No problem! What does irreverent mean?
Heaven is where the cooks are French, the lovers are Italian, the businessmen/bankers are Jewish, the police are Irish and the mechanics are German. Hell is where the cooks are Irish, the lovers are Jewish, the mechanics are French, the businessmen/bankers are Italian, and the police are German.
Someone who cuts hair in a library.
It's unclear, inexact, and open to more than one interpretation.
Noun: someone who is fed up with people.
It's when a British person takes a good look at something.
After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."
The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet..
"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."
The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.
The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.
The vet looked at the woman and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."
The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman..
The duck's owner, still in shock, took the bill. "$1500!" she cried, "$1500 just to tell me my duck is dead!"
The vet shrugged, "I'm sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $50, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $1500."
They’re unflappable!
I'm glad we're still on the same page
What is the definition of a Freudian slip?
When you say one thing but mean a mother!
What is the definition of insanity?
...a site for psoriasis.
They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡I said repeat that.
My daughter asked me what was the definition of reiriterate.
I said repeat that.
My daughter asked me what was the definition of reiriterate.
It's a non-prophet organisation
It’s definitely something that needs addressing.
Not Yeti.
The rest are definitely goimg to call ne a nomster.
A fart with a lump in it.
There isn't mush room for it.
It’s about time.
When he’s finished with his meal, he hops up onto the table, pulls out two Glock 45s and unloads both magazines, blasting everything in sight.
When the guns empty, he throws them down and starts walking towards the door. The bartender looks up from behind the bar and yells, “Hey! What the hell, man?”
The panda yells back at the bartender, "Hey, I'm a PANDA! Look it up!" The bartender opens his dictionary and sees the following definition for panda:
"A tree dwelling bear of Asian orgin, characterized by distinct black and white coloring. Eats bamboo shoots and leaves.”
Should I feel bad for hating so many numbers? Nah. God just wants us to love everyone.
Well, it’s definitely Not C
I said yes, I am definite.
It definitely had its pros and cons
It’s about time. I’m definitely going to watch it.
Cause I’m definitely checking you out!
Of course he denied the charge first, but later I found him coiled up in his room. He's conducting himself better now, so I think that worked out. Well that's the current situation anyways, but there's definitely potential for greater resistance. Some days I just feel like I don't have the capacity for raising kids.
but it’s definitely up there.
The moth drops down into the nearest chair and says “What’s the problem?”
Moth says “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, my boss is a vicious tyrant who gets off on the petty torments he puts me through day in and day out, and I’m too spineless to stand up to him, so I just take it and I’ve gradually come to hate myself for it. Also, every morning I wake up to the same prune-face old crone to whom I pledged my vows so many years ago. I used to love her, but that love has become like some sun-festering beached whale trying to die. We lost our daughter last year to one of the bitterest, coldest winters we’ve ever had to face in this region. Isn’t it funny, doc, how all the prayer circles and charity drives in the world amount to pretty much nothing in the face of that cold, impartial face of winter, that bleak, pounding, harsh fist of a callous environment, carrying on with its machinations without regard to our lives, loves, hopes and dreams? Isn’t that hysterical, Doc? Oh and then there’s my son. Doc, I don’t love him anymore. I don’t know what it is but I look in his eyes and I see that same harried look of gutless cowardice that I see when I stare at my own face in the mirror. If I wasn’t such a coward, Doc, I know I’d be able to scrape together enough pride to grab that cocked and loaded shotgun I keep by the bedside table, and just run amok and put an end to this grim facade once and for all. I start with the wife, then the boy of course before putting the barrell in my own mouth. Believe you me, Doc, I’d be doing the world a favor. I have nothing to look forward to but a continuation of this spiraling black hole that is my life, this existential cesspool that is the perpetuation of my lingering skid-mark on society. I despise people yet I crave their approval. I’m judgemental yet I care about nothing. I’m bitter, hateful and afraid. I’m alive yet I feel like the walking dead. This is it, Doc: I am a living, breathing, disease.”
The doctor stares at him for a while then finally says “Jeez, Moth, you definitely have some problems. But I’m a podiatrist. You need a psychiatrist. Why’d you come in here?”
The moth says,”Your light was on.”
