Fat Jokes, Fat people jokes
Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, surely i can’t look that old. Well . . . You’ll love this one.
My name is alice , and i was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist.
I noticed his dds diploma on the wall, which bore his full name. Suddenly, i remembered a tall, handsome, dark-hairedboy with the same name had been in my high school class some 30-odd years ago.
Could he be the same guy that i had a secret crush on, way back then? upon seeing him, however, i quickly discarded any such thought.
This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate.
After he examined my teeth, i asked him if he had attended morgan park high school …
“Yes. Yes, i did. I’m a mustang,” he gleamed with pride.
When did you graduate?’ i asked.
He answered, “in 1975. Why do you ask?”
“You were in my class!” I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely.
Then, that ugly,
Old,
Bald,
Wrinkled faced,
Fat-assed,
Gray-haired,
Decrepit
Son-of-a-bitch
Asked,
“What did you teach???”
Dear Santa,
You must be surprised that I’m writing you today, the 26th of December. Well, I would very much like to clear up certain things that have occurred since the beginning of the month! (While filled with illusion I wrote you this letter) I asked for a bicycle, an electric train set, a pair of roller blades, and a football uniform.
I destroyed my brain studying the whole year! Not only was I the first in my class, but I had the best grades in the whole school. I’m not going to lie to you Santa, there was no one in my entire neighborhood that behaved better than me. With my parents, my brothers, my friends and with my neighbors, I would go on errands and even help the elderly cross the street.
There was virtually nothing I wouldn’t do for humanity!
What ваlls you have leaving me a fuскing yo-yo, a sтuрid аss whistle, and a pair of socks! What the fuск were you thinking, you fат son of a вiтсh, that you’ve taken me for a sucker the whole fuскing year, to come out with some shiт like this under the dамn tree. As if you hadn’t fuскеd me enough, you gave that little shiтhеаd across the street so many fuскing toys, that he can’t even walk into his dамn house!
Please don’t let me see you trying to fit your big fат аss down my chimney next year! “I’ll fuск you up!” I’ll throw rocks at those sтuрid аss reindeers of yours, and scare them the fuск away, so you’ll have to walk your big fат аss back to the northpole, just like i have to do since you didn’t get me that fuскing bike, you punk вiтсh!!
You know what santa, fuск you!! Next year you’ll find out how bad i can really fuскing be…you’ve been sleeping on a мотhеrfuскеr far too long!
So watch your back next year, you fат вiтсh!
Sincerely,
Little Johnny
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and God it was neat ….
The kids were both gone, and my wife was in heat …
The doors were all bolted, and the phone off the hook …
It was time for some nоокy, by hook or by crook.
…
…
Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my еrестiоn and momma went dry.
Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we’d built,
Showed a broom up his аss, clean up to the hilt.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fат little driver, half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a вrа on his head.
Sure as I’m speaking, he was as high as a kite.
And he yelled to his team, but it didn’t sound right.
“Whoa Shiтhеаd, whoa Аsshоlе, whoa Sтuрid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I’ll cut off your nuts.”
“Look out for the lamp post, and don’t hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, ’cause I gotta go рее.”
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.
And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jacket to cover my аss,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.
His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a вuм and he smelled like a whоrе.
“That was some brothel,” he said with a smile,
“The reindeer are pooped, and I’ll just stay here awhile.”
He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his рескеr and рissеd in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.
Back in the den, Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone, and some new things were packed.
The first thing he found was a pair of false тiтs,
The next was a handgun with a johnson that spits.
A box filled with condoms was Santa’s next find,
And a six pair of раnтiеs, the edible kind.
A вrа without niррlеs, a реnis extension,
And several other things that I shouldn’t even mention.
A соск ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildо so long, it lay in a coil.
“This stuff ain’t for kids, Mrs. Santa will sh!t,
So I’ll leave ’em here, and then I’ll just split.”
He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny вuтт plug tucked under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his аss and broke wind instead.
In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch,
Saying, “Take me home Rudolph, this night’s been a вiтсh!”
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
“The best thing about sеx is that it never wears out!”