A good smooth brain dreams of turning those sweet tendies into mountains of Lamborghinis to snort or whatever them HF fucks do with their ill-gotten gains. But, how are you planning on sharing. Are you going to give close friends or family mountains of Lamborghinis to snort. Do you plan on donating mountains of Lamborghinis to a local kids hospital for them to snort too? Let the other smooth-brained hodltards of r/Superstonk know how you're going to spread that sweet gentle shit-covered tendy love around.
EDIT: I'm Canadian smooth-brain. I found a website that lists the top 100 Canadian charities with the greatest impact per dollar given. Please include something similar for your country!
FOR DEVELOPING COUNTRIES:
UK BASED:
FOR CANADIANS: Top 100 Charities
Å HJELPE NORDMENN:
BASERT I JÆREN:
The funeral director was asking us what we think Mum should wear in her casket.
Mum always loved to wear sarongs (fabric wraps that go around the torso and drape downward a bit like a long skirt would), so my uncle suggested that she wear a sarong in there.
The funeral director looked a bit confused, as did some of our family members, to which my uncle added:
"What's sarong with that?"
I started laughing like an idiot. He was proud of it too. The funeral director was rather shocked. We assured her, and our more proper relatives, that Mum would've absolutely loved the joke (which is very true).
His delivery was perfect. I'll never forget the risk he took. We sometimes recall the moment as a way help cushion the blows of the grieving process.
--Edit-- I appreciate the condolences. I'm doing well and the worst is behind me and my family. But thanks :)
--Edit-- Massive thanks for all the awards and kind words. And the puns! Love 'em.
I would have a daughter
But Bill kept the Windows
True story; it even happened last night. My 5-year-old son walks up behind me and out of the blue says, "hey."
I turn to him and say, "yeah, kiddo? What's up?"
He responds, "it's dead grass."
I'm really confused and trying to figure out what's wrong and what he wants from me. "What? There's dead grass? What's wrong with that?"
.
.
.
He says, totally straight-faced, "hay is dead grass," and runs off.
You officially hit rock bottom
And then you will all be sorry.
Now it’s syncing.
He replied, "Well, stop going to those places then!"
I will find you. You have my Word.
She said how do you know he was headed to work?
