The Funny/LOL Thread

We’ve all been there …

 

WASHINGTON—Beaming as she entered the White House with a Walgreens bag full of spooky decorations, Vice President Kamala Harris reportedly wore a sad little bat headband Tuesday while sitting alone at her desk for Halloween. “Happy Halloween, everyone—come on by to trick or treat,” said the second-highest-ranking official in the U.S. government, who, according to witnesses, had spent the entire morning attempting to make eye contact with passersby and gesturing at a plastic jack-o’-lantern basket she’d filled with miniature Snickers, Twix, and 3 Musketeers bars. “Hey, everyone, all this candy isn’t going to eat itself! By the way, did anyone get my invitation to the Halloween party at my desk? I’ve only got, like, three RSVPs. Everyone should come on by. I made some haunted cupcakes!” At press time, Harris could be seen sitting alone in the West Wing break room and drinking several cups from a cauldron labeled “witches’ brew.”

(The Onion in good form today: https://www.theonion.com/kamala-harris-wears-sad-little-bat-headband-alone-at-de-1850967781)

 

I soon realised it was The Onion. They always report stuff that happens Tuesday.

 

This is ridiculous. They are okra!

 

Okra = the scariest vegetable Halloween costume of all

 

That would explain why so few have the courage to wear it. It explains... a lot!

 

This is why to this day philosophical texts apply the "Okra test" to assess the logical context of any theorem.

 

Yes, that is why you must use Okra’s razor when preparing or they are slimy.

 

OK, that is righteous pun...

 

Far be it from me to introduce a scent of sexism into this harmless-fun thread, but I think the ladies should keep their fingers out of it.

If that's okra with the rest of you, of course.

 

You must be from Okrahoma, the "Sooner or Later" state.

 

What, Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain?

We know we belong to the land,
And the land we belong to is grand.

But... No...

 

(and 1 square foot of the land costs a grand)

A lone voice rings over the Okrahoma plains...

"This land is my land

This land is our land"​

The voice abruptly stops when the singer is crushed by a small asteroid. What's left looks oddly like (wait for it) okra guts.

 

"O-krap," she squeaked. It was not a distinguished end.

And the corn grew on.
As high as an elephant's eye.