Arrrrrrrrthritis.
It's the hardest one to pass.
Fry-day
But after years of therapy, I've managed to conker it.
He dreads locking it.
Then it grew on me. finger guns
No one will be crossing the finish line
and after a second, "For a moment there I thought it was the horse."
The bear asks the rabbit, "You ever have a problem with poop sticking to your fur?"
The rabbit says, "No."
So the bear wipes his butt with the rabbit...
Iβm already dreading it.
There's no atmosphere.
I got a bogie up my nose. It wheely hurt.
They dread lox.
I was the only one there in sandals and a bathrobe
It was dreadful.
With dreadkeys
I have cinnamon dread
Poor Red,
Poor Red whines,
Pour red wine,
Pour red wine to mend Red's mind.
Mind the wine that ends Red's whine.
Find the time to send more wine.
For poor Red's whine, we pour more wine.
We dread the time when poor Red whines.
I'm dreading it
So basically I own a Bookshop and I'm wanting to have a Book joke board, so please send me your jokes that I can write on it (credit will be given, needs to be family friendly)
Iβm dreading it.
We had a friend in town this weekend whose flight was this afternoon, so she was staying at the house for a while after my wife and I left for work. About halfway through my commute I was overtaken by a terrible sense of dread and panic that I forgotten to flush the toilet and our friend was going to come face to face with a semi-fresh dookie when she went to the restroom.
I was so mortified at this that I preemptively texted her to warn her and requested that she please, for both our sake's, flush the toilet prior to lifting the lid. We may never know whether I needed to send that text-- it was a real Schrodinger Scat situation.
This is sort of a TIFU, but I have no idea if I actually did and I'm not sure she would have the heart to tell me anyway.
I'm dreading itβ¦
Dad: Yikes, so now I understand your ... aroma. Can you resume washing your hair at least?
16-year old Daughter: I can't. I'm dreading my hair.
Dad: That makes two of us!
And every year I've dreaded it.
I'm dreading it.
Itβs dreadful
It goes where no man has gone before in search of the dreaded Klingons
Because eclipse.
I'm already dreading it.
Talking about the expensive healthcare
Dad "you need to change your major to become a doctor".
Me "I don't have the patience for that".
Dad "you would if you became a doctor".
Facepalm.
This is the dreaded Many Paws stage
As a matter of fact, Iβm dreading it.
Tom Braidy! I'm sorry, that was dreadful.
Drawing professor: You know, it's Jamaican hairstyle day on Friday. Us: What? What is that? Professor: I don't know, but I dread it.
I'm still cracking up.
The waiter walks over and gives him a glass of water.
The man, being dreadfully thirsty, drinks it all in one gulp. He them calls out to the waiter for another
"Excuse me for the trouble, but I'm terribly thirsty. Could I have another glass of water?"
The waiter returns and refills his glass. He turns away to serve another table, when a small cough comes from behind him.
"I'm so awfully sorry, but could I get another refill?"
The waiter of course obliges, and turns to wait the next table, when the same thing happens again.
Frustrated by the man, the waiter walks up and tells him
"Take a pitcher, it will last longer."
Dreadful.
...my hair is now dreadful.
He says he's dreading it.
I dadjoked my friend today.
I'm introducing her to the show "Penny Dreadful". I told her that the show is really great except for the name, which in my opinion, was horribly cheap.
shit eating grin ensues
New Year's Day... The start of a fresh 365 sunrises that symbolize a turning point in lifestyle and spending the entire day recovering from a dreadful hangover. Like many other people in America, this relatively fake holiday is a time that I spend with my family. One of my family's many traditions (alongside annihilating plates of buffalo wings and watching college football until we pass out on the couch) is watching the Rose Parade. At the very beginning of the event, before all of the flower-covered floats and high school bands came marching down the street, there was an introductory ceremony complete with a B-2 stealth bomber flyover. As soon as they passed by, zooming out of the camera's frame, my dad leans in closer to me and says "Well I sure didn't see that coming!"
A while ago I was sat down to dinner with my family, a delicious meal as it always is, ta very much Mum. Throughout dinner and the usual post-dinner chatter Dad had been muttering "My my myyyy Delilah..." to himself. Usually you can ignore a bit of a quiet singsong someone outside of a conversation is having to themselves but every 10-15 minutes he'd go "My my myyyy Delilah...". A good 2 hours after starting our dinner my sister feels the need to ask "Dad, why do you keep singing my my my delilah? Was there a song on the radio or something?". Dad gives a confused little look and goes "Hmmm? What? Oh dear oh dear oh dear... It's actually a medical problem. I went to the doctor about it recently" then raises his head trying to conceal that grin that we all know and dread. "He said I had Tom Jones Syndrome. I asked if it was common. He just shrugged and said it's not unusual". I gave him two thumbs up and a look of respect, most of the table gave a horrified groan. 2 Hours! the dedication on that man!
And Iβm already dreading it.
I'm dreading it
I'm dreading it.
