I’m the life and soul of my workplace.
I work in a morgue.
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Your mama so short she has to hold a sign up that says “Don’t spit, I can’t swim”.
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Every year on April 15...
The IRS pays its taxes to Chuck Norris.
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A guy walks into work, and both of his ears are all bandaged up.
The boss says, “What happened to your ears?”
He says, “Yesterday I was ironing a shirt when the phone rang, and shhh! I accidentally answered the iron.”
The boss says, “Well, that explains one ear, but what happened to your other ear?”
He says, “Well, geez, I had to call the doctor.”
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An Oxford comma walks into a bar.
Orders a gin, and tonic.
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In baseball, Spider-Man likes the outfield because in that position he catches the most flies.
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I bought my blind friend a cheese grater for his birthday.
A week later, he told me it was the most violent book he ever read.
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What is the funniest thing you can say to a bald man?
“You are so bald that I can simply rub your head and start predicting futures!”
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What do you do if you get rejected for a job at the sunscreen company?
Reapply.
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My girlfriend’s gynaecologist followed her on Instagram yesterday.
I really don’t know what else he wants to see.
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Working from home. Day 6.
Client: “No! This is unacceptable. I want to speak to one of your superiors.”
Me: “Moooom!”
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What is the common thing between an entrepreneur and a suicide bomber?
Do the job well on the first try and they are set for life.
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Chuck Norris died yesterday.
No worries, he’s much better already.
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Why was Michael Jackson bad at chess?
He couldn’t decide if he was black or white.
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How do turtles communicate with each other?
With shell phones.
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If a Bengal tiger is attacking your mother-in-law and spouse, who will you save?
The Bengal tiger of course! They’re getting extinct in the world.
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Knock! Knock!
“Who’s there?”
“Juliet.”
“Juliet, who?”
“Juliet pancakes for breakfast.”
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I got really hungry when we visited the Alpaca Farm, next time Alpaca lunch.
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Knock! Knock!
“Who’s there?”
“Honda.”
“Honda, who?”
“Honda first day of Christmas my true love sent to me…”
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Where do books sleep?
Under their covers.
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