Dark humor is like a kid with cancer.
It never gets old.
I was driving down the street when I saw a black man carrying a TV.
So I hurried home in order to see if it was mine. But fortunately mine was in the garden, picking some corn.
Where do Muslims go when they die?
All over the place.
How do you get a cute girl’s number at Auschwitz?
Lift her sleeve.
What’s the hardest part about baking the vegetable?
Fitting the wheelchair into the oven.
What do 54,000 abused woman every year have in common?
They don’t fucking listen.
How do you make a Muslim’s phone explode?
Set it to Airplane mode.
What do you call a kid with no arms, no legs and an eye patch?
What do you tell a woman with two black eyes?
Nothing. You already told that bitch twice.
What do you see flying after a suicide bombing?
Why do they spank babies fresh out of the womb?
To knock the dicks off of the stupid ones.
I met a guy in a wheelchair today, his face was battered and bruised.
“What happened to your face?” I asked.
“I’m a Paralympian,” he replied.
“Boxing?” I asked.
“No…” he said, “… hurdles.”
What’s better than winning gold in the Paralympics?
Why does a black kid cry when he takes a shit?
He thinks he’s melting.
What did God say when he made cripples?
I can do better!