“Ok, time for bed” … is what I said to the empty living-room. It was getting late, and the internet no longer amused me. I picked up my cell phone, rooted through the couch cushions until I located the remote, and turned off the television that had been nothing but background noise for the last few hours. I made sure the front and back doors were securely locked, walked around the back of the couch, and turned off the only light. A tap on the screen of my phone created just enough light to keep from busting a toe on an errant table leg. Because my cats have an evil tendency to lie in the middle of the hallway, I aimed the small amount of light from my phone directly in front of my tired and shuffling feet. I’d only covered a small distance before I knew, from many nights of this same regimen, that I was getting close to the bedroom door. At this point my arm started the slow upward arc that would eventually illuminate the now pitch-black opening to the comfort of my room. The light emanating from my cell was quite dim, and this action had become quite rote, so my arc was about waist level before I noticed a slight variation of the familiar black of the open doorway. At that point, and in a disturbingly short amount of time, five things happened nearly simultaneously: My arm, the arm carrying the phone, continued to rise in its predetermined arc, having been an object in motion which would stay in motion. I released a small gasp and exclaimed to my husband that his sudden appearance in the dark had startled the breath from me. I remembered that my husband was at work. The light arc reached its apex on a face of protruding nail-like teeth. A face suspiciously bereft of eyes, with a gaping, oozing, bloody pit where a nose should have been. The light went out.

This night was a particularly stormy one, many a crop destroyed, but the spirit of Little Jonny Harrison lived on with a shining light so strong it could emotionally blind those who may experience it's full potential. Jonny lived in Ristoville, a secluded village atop a hill. Citizens of Ristoville were frightened for there lives, all but Jonny, that is. Jonny was bullied from a young age, approximately 3 months, by his Uncle Clive, who was a Catholic Priest, full-time. Fear shined in the eyes of the normal residents, whilst, in Jonny's heart, there glowed a glow of pure hope, expectation and confidence, Jonny Harrison, was going to venture into the storm. Jonny knew he could amount to something, if he really really tried. He has 6 years behind him, and a long life ahead, and he figured, what's the worst that could happen? He pondered this, and ultimately came to the conclusion that there will be nothing worse out there that Uncle Clive's "Magical Basement of Happiness". Jonny sat his mother down in the family's precious leather chair, looked her in the eye and whispered a sweet farewell. He wished his father the best wishes possible, so now he is armed with the fact that his father is there for him, to help him further his adventure. Finally, Rosie Harrison, Jonny's sweet old Grandmother, who had been addicted to Crystal Meth for about 25 years now and been through 13 interventions and countless failed suicide attempts, opened her ears to young Jonathon's speech, he said softly in her ear, the words, "Hang in there, Gran. I know you can pull through, I may be only six but I sure as heck know how much i care for you.". The words of love echoed in her fragile little ears as Jonny walked away. He grabbed his stash of Cool Original Doritos, took with him a couple cartons of Apple and Blackcurrant Ribena, got his Grandfather's lucky medallion and his inhaler and took his first step outside. He whipped out a carton of Ribena, used the straw to puncture a hole through which to drink, strongly crumpled up the carton, slightly spraying pure fruit juice on his dungarees, and threw it to the drooping wet grass. He faced the towering lightning cloud and with a cry so intense, shouted, "Nothing will stop me!!". Jonny died shortly after of HIV induced AIDS. His Uncle Clive was sentence to 3 to 5 years, depending on behavior, in a high security prison for child molestation, frequent and consistant child abuse and paedophillia and smuggling Crystal Meth. Rosie Harrison died later that day.

What did the sad orphan with liver cancer get for Christmas? Pictures of dead babies to put things in perspective.

Two muffins are in the oven They didn't say anything.

How can a black person and a white person be friends? The civil right's movement.

Why did the boy fall off the swing? Someone said "catch" and threw a bowling ball at him.

what do u call a kid at school a school kid and i have enough of these anti jokes they are not funny

What did the lawyer say to the other lawyer? We're both lawyers.

A black man walks into a bar, and when he left he paid his tab and couldn't have been more courteous.

The blonde, brunette and,the red headed girls were at a store. When the blonde says......... im tired let's leave.

A man walked into a bar. He sat down, had a nice meal and went home relatively satisfied.

Cripples are lame.

two japanese men walk into a bar. the first japanese man says “i am japanese!” the second japanese man says “i am also japanese!” the bartender then says “well, hey. i’m japanese too”. the bar was in japan.

Whats brown and a fag? A bundle of sticks

Why did the boy jump off a cliff Because he was gay and committed suicide

why was justin sad? his family was murdered

You know what makes jokes funny? Irony You know what makes anti-jokes funny? Common sense

Yo mama is so ugly that she won an award for that

What's blue and rhymes purple? Get Out

A family walks into a talent agency. Talen agent says "Okay, what's your act called?" Dad replies "The Aristocrats!"

What did the boy with AIDS, polio, one eye and one arm get for Christmas? Cancer.

The President, The Pope, and a small child are all in an airplane when the pilot announces that the plane is going to crash. They crash into the ocean and quickly remember that there is a life vest under their seats, which they promptly put on and safely inflate after exiting the cabin of the aircraft.

If the shoe fits....... its probably your size.

KEVIN CRUMMY SMELLS LIKE SARAHS (I)

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.

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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!

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