Remember, never tell anyone your soulcial security number
It'll make your head spin.
The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"
"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."
Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.
"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.
"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"
"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"
Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumΓ© I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."
That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"
Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"
"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."
Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.
Sufferware
But Iβm not really into the possessive type.
(My brotherβs joke not mine)
Just ask him politely with a sqouija board.
Because they hate exorcising
Then I remembered-they bless the rains down in Africa.
After all, possession is 9/10ths of the law.
Theyβll be hell toupee.
Arrested for possession.
Me: possession IS 9/10 of the law
Child: Iβm hungry and I want a toy and Iβm not going to nap today and-
Demon: π¦π° π¦π± ππ©π΄ππΆπ° π©π¦π¨π’ π±π₯π¦π°?
Me: itβs legally your problem now
You boil the hell out of it
Iβm sure itβs saucer βEβ.
It was a Pepper Oni.
That's really nice of him. It's important that her demons stay healthy.
He wanted to watch their soles burn
They show possession.
I asked him demonstrate
I guess you could say its.... fast as hell
Gobble the ghoul.
But now they're just super fit and hotter than ever
It was charged with possession.
A Limp
So that's what they meant by eternal dam nation.
All the other demons said, "curse you!"
Let Mr. PeeDemon know he's a lucky man.
So her demons would exercise themselves.
Because they're super-natural
"What's up dawg?"
They said if I didn't, my house would be repossessed.
A poultrygeist.
And what do you call a priest who gets rid of chicken demons?
So 2 skeletons are talking and one says to the other
Skeleton 1: I like a demon Skeleton 2: ask her out Skeleton 1: I just donβt have the guts for it
Me: I try, but my inner demons get the best of me. What should I do, doc?
My doctor: Exorcise three times a week.
HI Iβm Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didnβt even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldnβt stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. βTimβ, he said, βYou have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heavenβ. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didnβt know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasnβt surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldnβt be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didnβt want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n
... keep reading on reddit β‘Context: Today was helping at practice for a play that my 4th grade daughters class is going to put on. My daughter (Sarah) was playing a tree, and another girl (Mikayla) was playing a Deer. Right now they're all into this weird "dating" phase. So Sarah ran over to me sobbing...
Sarah: Dad, Mikayla kissed my boyfriend. She is already dating Scott and Michael kissed her just now!
Me: Hoe dear, that sounds like a really sticky situation you're in.
I then proceeded to start laughing while failing to control it while my daughter started bawling. The other adults looked at me like I was a demon, and I had to leave the room for a minute to control myself.
Edit: Also I later realized that my daughter doesn't understand what a hoe is and thought I was just laughing at her. Don't worry, I have apologized and bought her ice cream.
