aNewDomain — Whether you actually remember or you just happen to watch a lot of vintage television and movies, you know that political correctness has practically killed off most old jokes. But I say that offensive, racist, sexist, homophobic vintage humor and classic jokes will live on no matter what. Here’s the proof:
An ordained Episcopalian cisfemale priest, a transwoman reformed rabbi and a rationalist walk into a gay bar where straights are accepted, but not permitted to dominate.
The bartender says: “What is this, a joke?”
The rabbi replies: “No, we’d simply like to order beverages.”
Totally inadvertently and not at all in a piggish way, a cismale notices a bulge in the trouser portion of the overalls of a cisfemale.
He asks: “Is that a rape kit in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
NOTICE: Under the terms of the Civil Rights Act, and as we are under supervision by the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, we allow everyone in this restaurant, regardless of race, religious affiliation, gender, trans status, sexual orientation and class, with the caveat that those unable to pay will be subject to arrest.
A girl whose racial identity places her among a historically disadvantaged religious affiliation that is now considered dominant played a song by Taylor Swift at a violin recital.
“What do you think of her execution?” the girl’s mother asked her neighbor, a questioning cisfemale.
The neighbor replied, “Given the spate of innocent inmates released from death row, and my desire for the state to set the highest standard of moral behavior, I am opposed to it at this time.”
Why did the cage-free chicken cross the road?
Because it was free to do so.
A gay woman boards a bus with her baby.The bus driver says:"OMG, that's the ugliest baby I've ever seen!'' The woman walks to the rear of the bus and sits down, fuming. She calls her attorney: ''The driver just insulted me!'' The lawyer says: "This should be good for at least $100,000 in punitive damages."
“I lost 200 pounds of ugly fat!” exclaimed the white woman on the treadmill, exuding privilege.
“Wow! How did you do that?” inquired her neighbor, whose class interests were similar.
“I got divorced,” the white woman said, taking care to point out that her worthless cheating ex-husband suffered from clinical depression and a personality disorder that inhibited his ambition.
“Talk about mixed feelings,” a cismale told his friend, a female-to-male trans man. “I watched my mother-in-law drive off a cliff in my new car.”
“You should apply most of the insurance compensation for your destroyed, ostentatious vehicle to donations to organizations working to remedy the problems of poverty and class inequality,” his friend replied, “and take mass transit, or better yet, a bicycle, henceforth.“
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