...howled the Apache warrior as she charged the enemy line atop her faithful stallion. Nearby, the chief turned to the audience and began to chastise them for assuming the Apache warrior was a man. "Never, in my 7 growing seasons of existence, have I encountered such a boorish, dim-witted crowd. How dare you take the last of the marmalade and put the empty jar back in the refrigerator?" And the chief was right, you did eat all of the marmalade and assumed that either a) no one would notice or b) no one would know that you were the perpetrator. Well guess what Susan, I'm taking your ass downtown. Detective Rutheford B. Hayes wants to have a word with you and, believe me, you're going to talk. As we sit on the screeching subway as it hurtles down the track towards another tunnel, the narrator reminds the other audience that I only said we were sitting on the subway, not inside it. With only moments to spare, we have a choice to make: do we resign ourselves to getting crushed between the subway and the tunnel or do we jump off and hope we don't break our legs? At this point, the manager comes over and says "Sir, your left and right feet are in containers of green peppers and piping hot meatballs respectively. This is a Subway, not a subway." But it was too late... my dick was already out.
Submitted November 05, 2016 at 07:58PM by RSTLNEplus4 http://ift.tt/2fnPsKF AntiAntiJokes
No comments:
Post a Comment