Monday 31 December 2012

I forgot about anti-jokes

An Irishman walks out of a bar.


Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I have a gun,
Get in the van.


A dyslexic man walks into a bra.


What's sad about four black people in a Cadillac going over a cliff?
They were my friends.  (Haha, my dad was the sales manager of a Cadillac dealership for something like 37 years!)


Wow, I'm so fucked,  just sent my parents an e-mail where I actually referred to myself in the third person!  Not only that, but I actually called myself 'bad Stephanie.'

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