Lez Miserables
A satisfactory
It's always a love/ate relationship
Because he only comes once a year
Criminal purr-suits
Oui, a visit to the Eyeful Tower is always recommended when vacationing in France.
She's got the day off from school, and we've been wrangling a little bit over how much of the day she'll spend on her tablet and TV vs. reading and stuff.
She puts her face up against the screen door and cracks a self-satisfied grin and says, "Dad, Dad... is this considered 'Screen-time'?"
… We’re in a plane over the mountains when the pilot came over the intercom and said. “Ladies and gentlemen. I have some bad news. We are having a major mechanical issue. The plane is going down and there’s nowhere to land before it crashes. And more bad news. We only have three parachutes. Since I’m the pilot I feel I should go down with the plane”
The President jumps up and says. “I’m the President. I must survive”. So he grabs a parachute and jumps out. The lady jumps up saying. “I’m the worlds smartest woman, I must survive”. She grabs a bag and jumps.
The Rabbi tells the scout. “ Son, I’ve had a long and satisfying life. I give you the last parachute so you can do some good in this world”. The Scout says “ Rabbi. Don’t worry about it, The nice Blonde lady jumped out with my backpack”.
He built another one.
Because they always come full circle
Except if he is a cannibal.
After a particularly hot and busy shift one night I walked into the break room where several other staff members were hanging out either on their break or done for the evening. One of them, noticing how sweaty I'd gotten in the heat, asked if I was okay. With a glint in my eye and a devious grin I turned to them and replied:
"just call me mayonnaise..." *confused looks on everyone's faces* "...because I'm egg-sauce-ted"
Having been the only dad in a room full of young folk I'd seen an opportunity I couldn't resist and taken it. I was greeted by a chorus of pained groans as everyone tried to un-hear my god-awful play on words only to discover that it was indelibly etched in their minds, permanently taking up a small piece of otherwise-useful brain space.
Needless to say, it was immensely satisfying. They may not have laughed but I laughed harder than I have in a good while.
They don't want anyone knowing they were satisfied by a piece of meat
The mortician asked the deceased’s wife how she would like the body dressed. He points out the man looks good in the black suit he’s already wearing. The widow however said she thought her husband always looked his best in blue, and she would really like him in a blue suit. She then hands the mortician a blank cheque and says “I don’t care how much it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing.” The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe. Remarkably, the suit fit him perfectly. She says to the mortician, “whatever this costs I’m very satisfied, you did an excellent job and I’m incredibly grateful. How much did you spend?” To her astonishment the mortician presents her with her blank cheque, and he says “there’s no charge.” Shocked she replies “no really, I feel like i must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit.” “Honestly ma’am”, the mortician says, “it costs nothing, you see a diseased gentleman about your husbands size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday. He was wearing an attractive blue suit. So I asked his wife if she minded if her husband went to the grave wearing black. She had said it made no difference so long as he looked nice. So from that point on it was really just a matter of switching the heads.”
“One beer please,” says the crab. “But if I am not satisfied I will require a full refund. You may dispute my claim that the beer wasn’t satisfactory at which point we can move to an arbitration process. This agreement is also only between us and I expect full confidentiality.”
“Sure,” says the bartender. “But why the big clause?”
I always thought he was a theoretical physicist.
It hit the Spot.
They want to achieve hypertrophy.
With just the tip
Mallnourished
Friend: -Sighs-
Me: -AGGRESSIVELY LOUD SIIIIIIIIIIIGH-
Friend: "The heck was that?"
Me: "I heard you were sighin', so I thought I'd join you and go super sighin.
(Dragonball Z joke with Saiyans)
Background to this joke: Took me years to get the perfect setup for this joke. Needed a bunch of friends present for maximum groans/laughs, needed to remember to do it, and needed friend to sigh and follow up to my ridiculous-ness. It was one of my most satisfying jokes I've told.
She really served a porpoise.
A microsoftie.
He would be a content creator!
I won’t be satisfied until I’ve herd them all.
A meat-loving king has a contest to find the next royal chef. He invites 3 renowned chefs from all over the kingdom to serve him and the favorite will become the new royal chef!
The first chef serves the king an enormous rack of ribs. "Very impressive," said the king.
The second chef serves a huge steak, cooked to perfection. "So satisfying," said the king.
The third chef gives the king a plate with small rocks on a bed of shredded cabbage. "What the hell is this," the king asks.
The third chef says, "These rocks fell from the sky into my back yard. Indeed, ribs and steak are very meaty, but asteroids are meteor!"
A tiny part of me says no
Because he delivered it funnily enough!
Father-in-law Text: You left your sunglasses on the dining room table. Me: That was not very BRIGHT!
So I don't have a joke, I just wanted to share that my 6 year old daughter is completely on board with my dad jokes all of a sudden and it's fucking awesome.
This is the new normal interaction with my daughter: -she throws her stuffed bear on bean bag. -I sit on top of said bear on bag containing beans. -she screams nooooooooo! Don't! -I get up and say "he doesn't look beary hurt to me, he looks fine."
And this here's the great part, SHE says "get it?....beary!" And she then goes on to explode laughing and repeating "beary!" It's basically the opposite of what my wife's reaction is everytime I make a joke.
I know it won't last long, but shit is it sweet.
His wife always complained that he wasn't good enough in bed and that she wasn't satisfied. He went to the local bar to get a drink and cool off for a bit. On reaching the bar, he ordered a beer and sat down. His friend, Mike saw him sitting alone and walked up to him. He asked Andy what happened to which Andy told him the situation. Mike said that he had a simple trick which never failed and told Andy to hit his meat on the bedpost three times before sex. Andy rushed home to perform this trick. He saw that his wife was lying on the bed with the lights off. Slowly he took off his pants and hit his meat three times on the bedpost. Dum, dum, dum. His wife immediately woke up and shouted, "Mike, is that you?"
Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
“Yes of course” replied Trevor
... keep reading on reddit ➡I had no idea what to get them. But after a long brainstorming I finally decided to get the a new fridge.
It's was actually so satisfying to see their faces lit up as they opened it.
They're all engraved.
(I told this to my five year old this morning and got a very satisfying groan.)
The bartender replies, "I'm sorry, but you're a rope. I can't serve you, and I'm not even sure how I could. Please leave."
A short time later, the rope comes back into the bar and asks for a beer.
The bartender, a bit annoyed at the situation, says, "Look, I told you I can't serve you. Just go away."
A few hours later, the rope comes back in again.
The bartender is getting mad now. "Look, I told you twice that I can't serve alcohol to a rope! Now get out and STAY OUT!"
Dejectedly, the rope leaves the bar and sits at the curb until a gentleman passes by. Suddenly, the piece of rope has an idea.
"Excuse me", says the rope, "but could you do me a favor?"
"Um... me?" says the puzzled gentleman. "Uh... I guess so..."
"Great! I just need you to tie a big ol' knot right in my middle."
"Well," says the gentleman. "I just so happens I was a former Eagle Scout. Here you go," and ties a perfect knot in the rope. "Will that be all?"
The rope pauses for a second and says, "Actually, could you pull apart my ends and unravel them for a bit?"
The gentleman obliges and goes on his merry way. The piece of rope, satisfied at its new appearance, heads back into the bar.
Furious, the bartender shouts, "HEY! Aren't you that same piece of rope I kicked out three times already?!?"
"No, I'm a frayed knot."
