Im horny
yo hold up
is that a 2002 Ferrari F355 Spider hotwheels on your nght?
my dad used to have one hanging in the rearview mirror, one night he got in to ar accident and the airbag impaled it into his face
no shit retard we have the same dad
Narrative joke delivery styles, punchline pacing, and comedy formats for people with specific chaos preferences from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.
A man driving a Kia stops at a traffic light next to a Rolls-Royce.
The Kia driver rolls down his window and calls out to the Rolls-Royce driver, “Hey, pal, that’s an impressive car. Does your Rolls have Wi-Fi? My Kia does!”
The Rolls-Royce driver replies, “Yes, it has Wi-Fi.”
The Kia driver continues, “Nice! And do you have a fridge in there? I have a fridge in the backseat of my Kia!”
The Rolls-Royce driver, getting irritated, responds, “Yes, there’s a refrigerator.”
Not backing down, the Kia driver asks, “That’s cool, man! What about a TV? I’ve got a TV in my Kia’s backseat!”
The Rolls-Royce driver, increasingly annoyed, says, “Yes, there’s a television. A Rolls-Royce is the epitome of luxury vehicles!”
The Kia driver says, “Amazing car! But do you have a bed in there? I’ve got a bed in the back of my Kia!”
Frustrated that his car lacks a bed, the Rolls-Royce driver speeds off. He heads straight to the dealership and orders a bed to be installed in his Rolls. The following morning, he picks up his car, and the bed looks fantastic, complete with silk sheets and elegant brass accents. It’s undoubtedly a bed suited for a Rolls-Royce.
The Rolls-Royce driver spends the entire day searching for the Kia. Finally, late that night, he spots the Kia parked with fogged-up windows. He gets out of his Rolls-Royce and knocks on the Kia’s window. At first, there’s no response, but then the owner pokes his head out, dripping wet.
“I now have a bed in the back of my Rolls-Royce,” the Rolls-Royce driver declares smugly.
The Kia driver replies, “Did you really drag me out of the shower just to tell me that?!”
I was putting on my shoes when my hands were full and I had to sort of artfully slip my heel in several times until it felt just right. That’s when I thought to myself: This is a lot like fucking.
“At least you’re a lesser risk for breast cancer!” I quipped to the glaring, flatchested feminists seconds before I realized I’d soon be at no risk for testicular cancer.
My Asian girlfriend made us dinner last night, eventually followed by passionate lovemaking. Nevertheless, I awakened abruptly only an hour later, with an unsatisfied hunger. Was it the twice cooked pork, or the twice porked cook that I was craving?