Violent Jokes

A man walks into a bar and says to the bartender "Beer for me, beer for you, and beer for everyone who is in the bar now." After drinking, the man starts walking out of the bar. "Hey, what about the payment?" yells the bartender. "I have no money," answers the man. The bartender hears that and beats the man as hard as he can, then throws him out into the street. The next evening the man walks again into the bar and says to the bartender, "Beer for me, beer for you, and beer for everyone who is in the bar now." The bartender thinks to himself, "The man can't be stupid enough to pull the same trick twice, tonight he must have enough money", and gives beer to everyone. After drinking, the man starts walking out of the bar. "Hey, what about the payment?" yells the bartender. "I have no money," answers the man. The bartender hears that and beats the man as hard as he can, then throws him out into the street. One evening later the man walks again into the bar and says to the bartender, "Beer for me, and beer for everyone who is now in the bar." In disgust, the bartender asks "What, no beer for me this time?" "Nah," answers the man, "you get violent when you drink."

Two hillbillies walk into a restaurant. While having a bite to eat, they talk about their moonshine operation. Suddenly, a woman at a nearby table, who is eating a sandwich, begins to cough. After a minute or so, it becomes apparent that she is in real distress. One of the hillbillies looks at her and says, 'Kin ya swallaw?' The woman shakes her head no. Then he asks, 'Kin ya breathe?' The woman begins to turn blue, and shakes her head no. The hillbilly walks over to the woman, lifts up her dress, yanks down her drawers, and quickly gives her right butt cheek a lick with his tongue. The woman is so shocked that she has a violent spasm, and the obstruction flies out of her mouth. As she begins to breathe again, the Hillbilly walks slowly back to his table. His partner says, 'Ya know, I'd heerd of that there 'Hind Lick Maneuver' but I ain't niver seen nobody do it!'

There were once four powerful witch covens: the witches of the mountains, the deserts, the forests, and the seas. For a thousand years they made war with one another, casting curses and hexes and bringing all manner of malady to the land in their hatred for one another. One day, they decided the only solution was to convene for a meeting of all the covens, in which they would either strike a deal for peace, or end it all in violent bloodshed. The sea witches arrived first, carried upon a tidal wave that bore them up and onto the coast, the waters crashing loudly as they struck the shoreline as if to announce their presence. The mountain witches rode down the hillside upon magical storm clouds, thunder and lightning bursting from their steeds of vapor, a tumultuous blizzard ravaging the mountains in their wake. The forest witches, shape-shifters, emerged in the form of gnarled roots which encircled the meeting place and rose out of the ground, bending and twisting into humanoid silhouettes from which sprung skin and clothing, as a flurry of leaves swirled around furiously. The sand witches arrived in a catering truck.