you will like this because i am black.

What do you call a dead baby in a lunchbox? It doesn't matter he won't hear you.

what did one worm say to the other worm? nothing. worms are incapable of speaking.

Knock Knock! Who's there? John.

Roses are red, Violets are blue, I have Alzheimers, Bus....

Roses are grey Violets are gray Imma dog

Why did the man eat his cellphone? Because he has a serious mental disability, and did not know that it was not a normal thing to do, and for anybody to laugh at him for doing something like this is just a sick person.

Why did FiddleBob Joe chuck a stick of butter out the window? Because he wanted to see a butter fly

I was walking on the beach when I heard a man yell "Help, Shark, Help!" and I laughed, because I knew the shark wasn't going to help him.

nina...;shut up we are having fun :)

why was 6 afraid of 7? 6 was a pussy.

Dave Antliver was a longtime employee at the local dairy farm. He had long, grey, scraggly hair and old, cracked, circular-framed glasses and a straw, cowboy-style hat. He disliked his job, milking cows, because it was very repetitive and boring. His co-workers were smelly, loud and obnoxious. They gave him his name after he accepted a 5-dollar dare to swallow a handful of ants. The only enjoyment he got out of his day involved hiding from his despised wife, Muggly, and writing in his journal. Mr. Antliver took shelter in the faded-grey shed behind the house, it was his sanctuary. It stank of cat piss and many flying insects such as bees, wasps and hornets made their nest inside the shed. Antliver would lie down on the dusty, wooden floor, hiding under an old, tattered tarp in the shed to hide from the insects. This was quite successful, since he had only been stung a few times. In his journal, he wrote about a better life, one where he could participate in sexual intercourse with a shiny, magnificent ceiling fan; it was his fetish, his erotic pleasure. He knew that if he ever found one, he would name her Salikas. He needed Salikas to be a large fan, however, as participating in his favorite sexual activity would require her to be the dominant one. Antliver dreamed of Salikas, she had five aluminum, oval-shaped blades and most importantly, hung four feet below the ceiling when she spun, spinning at about 140 rpm. Antliver knew that if he could have Rotational Intercourse with Salikas, he would leave his dirty wife for good. Mr. Antliver took a broken, green crayon from his pocket and traced out a picture of sex with Salikas in his journal. After five minutes, his illustration was complete. In the picture, Dave was sitting on top of one of Salikas's blades while she was spinning, high above the ground. His penis was wrapped around that same blade, with sperm flowing down the fan blade and some of it flying into the air. A tear flowed down Antliver's cheek as he felt a strong craving for Salikas, while his erection begged him to find her. He peeked out from under the tarp in the shed and saw rain dripping down the shed window. The cloudy sky crackled with thunder. Antliver cried and whined for a few minutes, drenching his overalls in tears. He was 58 years old and had not yet found the love of his life. He then became silent, as an idea came to mind: he would measure the shed to see if he could mount Salikas on the ceiling. He examined his drawing and estimated that Salikas would take up about 4-5 feet in height, and require a 10-foot diameter, horizontal circle of space. He rummaged through the pile of clutter on the floor, pushing aside flower pots, the garden hose, porn magazines and beer bottles until finally, he found the measuring tape. He stood up with ambition, knocking over the grey trash can. He extended the yellow tape, holding it against the sides of the shed wall, checking for the highest inch-mark on the tape. "137 inches," he muttered to himself. After thinking for a second, Antliver shouted through his 10 teeth: "Yes! Baby, I can bring ya home!" All he had to do now is find his darling, his beloved angel. But where? He lived out in the country and he knew of no hardware or appliance stores where he could buy ceiling fans. Although his wife was a dirty rat who did nothing for him but steal his whiskey, Antliver did remember her talking about the Amazon, which one could use on a computer to order a wide variety of products, and have them delivered to his house. He and his (current) wife didn't own a computer, as they were quite poor. She couldn't produce much money from scrubbing toilets at the local elementary school so they couldn't afford one. She once told him that he might be able to use the Amazon if he hadn't blown all their savings on alcohol. That was the reality then, but not anymore. Antliver had a plan, he would get his hands on a computer, no matter what it takes. He thought of the surrounding area: there was Juggy's house, Marv and Gorgus's house, but most importantly: Stalpus's house! Stalpus was a longtime friend of Dave's who got his name from "stale pus," but Antliver didn't know nor care what that meant. All that mattered is that Stalpus had a computer. It then dawned on Antliver, he would go to Stalpus's house and ask if he could use the computer for a while. Due to Antliver's alcohol addiction, there was no money left to fix the ancient beaten-up car he owned. After travelling down the dirt road for an hour and a half, Antliver arrived at his friend's house. He knocked on the door, and after 10 seconds, Stalpus showed up. "What'dya want, ol' Dave?" "Stalpus, I needa use yer computer," Antliver replied. "Yeh, okay, Dave, why'dya need it?" "I needa find ma wife," Antliver replied. Stalpus snickered and replied: "But Dave, she's at yer house, ya nitwit." "No she ain't not!" Antliver shot back, angrily. "Whoa, settle doon, Davey, ya can use ma computer ta find her." 10 minutes later, Stalpus was directing Antliver to the Amazon website. "How'd I find a ceiling fan?" Antliver asked. "Just type it in dat box over dere." Antliver typed in "ceiling fan" and pressed enter. A large number of ceiling fans were found, to his excitement. He browsed for a few minutes and came upon a huge, 9-foot wide industrial fan. "Salikas!" he screamed, "I found ya, my love!" Beside the "Add to Cart" option, the price glared at Antliver: 299.99$! "Aw damnit, deez rascals want ma money for ma wife! It's a randsome! Oh fuck, she's bein' held hostage! I gotta get her back!" "Calm down, ya dumb ass, " pleaded Stalpus. "Ya just gotta pay for her." "I don't got the cash!" Antliver angrily shouted back. "Listen, ya said you were lookin' fer yer wife, not some stupid fan!" mocked Stalpus. Antliver growled, stood up and picked up the wooden chair below, lifting it over his head. He violently struck Stalpus over the head, knocking him to the floor. He brought the chair down over his friend's head several more times, leaving him with a fractured skull and a fatal amount of lost blood. Antliver hurled the blood-stained chair to the floor, braking off two of its legs. He then proceeded to scavenge the house frantically for money. 10 minutes later, he located a hidden box under Stalpus's bed, upstairs. It had a bunch of coins and bills cluttered inside. He began to count the wages when he heard the door downstairs swing open. "Stalpus, honey, I'm hom... AHHHHHHHH!" she shrieked, as she discovered the lifeless body of her husband. Antliver heard her rushed footsteps as she ran into the kitchen below. Briefly afterward, she was breathing heavily, desperately trying to reach the police via telephone. Antliver knew that he wouldn't have much time before the police would arrive at the residence. He snatched up the money in a hurry, stuffing it into the pocket of his overalls. He bolted down the stairs, and snagged the computer monitor, ripping the cord out of the wall, in front of Stalpus's wailing wife, who was pressed up against the wall, terrified by Antliver's presence. With his hands full, Antliver kicked open the wooden front door, fracturing it at the hinges, and darted down the dirt road. After running for a few minutes, Mr. Antliver heard sirens wailing in the distance over his loud panting. They were getting louder so he veered off into an open field, covered in sweat and wheezing but still jogging forward. The sirens were getting louder and judging by their sound, Antliver knew they would be on top of him soon. He took a glance over his shoulder and saw a police car screech to a stop on the side of the road. An officer was already running after him. "Hey, you, stop right there!" the policeman exclaimed as he began to chase Antliver. Panting heavily, Antliver's stamina began to fade; he could barely hold the computer monitor any longer. He could hear the officer's footsteps getting closer and closer. Antliver knew he couldn't outrun the officer, so he turned around and smashed the officer with the computer monitor. It was a clean hit to the right shoulder that staggered the policeman, who then clutched his shoulder in pain. After recoiling sideways, Antliver delivered another heavy blow, this time to the head. The officer dropped to the ground and screamed but managed to pull out his pistol, firing a shot into Antliver's chest before he could bring the monitor down again. Antliver stumbled and fell over. He dropped the monitor to his side, gravely injured. His journal fell out of his pocket in front of him. With his last breaths, Antliver flipped to the page with the picture of Salikas, his love. "My baby... I will... never give... up... on... y..." Those were his last words, he never got to see his true love, his beautiful, sexy, 5-bladed beauty.

A man walks into a bar, he is immediately rushed to the emergency room

Eeny meeny miny moe, Catch a piglet by its toe, If it squeals let it go, Or you'll be arrested for animal abuse and receive a heavy fine.

What happened to the man who just took a shit? He got a stunning pain in his anus because the earlier Hemorrhoid issues had now turned in to a open wound around his Anoderm.

i jack off in the school bathroom #yolo -toby limbers

A Jew and a Muslim are sitting in a bar. The Muslim asks the Jew for some money to buy a drink. The Jew said, "how much?" The Muslim said, "$7.00" The Jew then said, "yes."

Once i tried to do math ! She wasn't getting wet so i stopped!

I see, listen, we can all get affected by how the world perceives us at times, but the thing is, that if you allow others perception of you to become yours, then you lose yourself, then it does not matter how intelligent, resourceful, wise insightful (etc etc) you are, because it becomes what you where. You are struggling friend, and yes I am biased, you are a woman and I myself often see men as mere obstacles standing in the way for my ladies. Says a lot about me huh? Then again, we are all biased, its not something we can correct, but something we have to accept, only then can we take control over our own "bias", and use it solely to our advantage in order to excel at what we do. I find myself at loss for words, I mean believe me, I personally believe that men that consider other men superior to women, should get themselves a boyfriend instead, and also that they have clearly forgotten that line in that pretty cool movie 300. "Only women give birth to strong men". So ask yourself, do you truly consider yourself inferior because you are an attractive woman? Or are you allowing others to convince you again out of free will, or in other words, letting them get to you? Remember friend, how you choose to perceive yourself is always, ALWAYS a choice, but our society worldwide is structured in a matter, where the choice to allow others to define us rather than to seek for answers within us and change what we do not like and embrace what we love about ourselves, is well... Not an easy one, the world is about the survival of the fittest, but if we define ourselves and our values at the fittest and succeed, others will seek to follow us, people like us are not meant to become athletes nor artists that reach long distances solely to gain the praise of others and worthless gold medals that prove that we showed the world how many times we where willing to run around in circles inspired solely by their praise. Keep that in mind, remember who you truly are, and if you have become what others have told you, you can always change that for what you truly, deeply want. So as for practical advice, I suggest you reveal to "your people" that you are female, how you convey that, is the only thing that truly matters as hard as it is to realize and accept this at times. Will you walk towards them head hanging and say "sorry I am a woman"? Or will you show them what a wonderful thing that is? (How you convey that, well, I have a hard time thinking as a woman, and I am not too bothered by that to be sincere). The key there, is that you cannot fool people without fooling yourself, you have to see yourself as the wonderful woman that you are, in order to convey it. Cant say I feel too good about myself now, I would not hesitate to break a man in two if the alternative means me or those I care about getting hurt, but I had no idea I was throwing so much shit at a woman.

What did the boy with no arms and no legs get for Christmas? A Trampoline.

Bigfoot, Santa, a dumb blonde, and a smart blonde all jump off of a cliff. They all reach terminal velocity and at impact at the same time. However, no one really cares.

what do you call a black guy with a nice car? most probably a rapper or professional athlete, however there is also a great chance that he is a doctor of philosophy and well educated.

I like U.............................nicorns :D

me and joey are going to watch the football game, at this point you relize you shouldn't hang out with joey and the other guy because it is joey and I not me and joey

Anti Joke

What are Antijokes? Anti Jokes (or Anti Humor) is a type of comedy in which the uses is set up to expect a typical joke setup however the joke ends with such anticlimax that it becomes funny in its own right. The lack of punchline is the punchline.

Our Updated iOS App!

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The Anti Joke Book


NEW ANTI-JOKE BOOK!  Now that we've resolved the printing issues with our publisher, check out the BRAND SPANKING NEW Anti-Joke Book!

MOAR??

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