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Just driving by hull prison and saw a knotted sheet with a dwarf climbing out of one of the windows. My mate said " look at that midget". I said, that's a little con descending.

should i get my coat
 

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After escaping prison, it was found that the midget was also a fortune teller.

When he robbed a bank and escaped with the money, the headlines in the next days newspaper said,

"Small Medium at Large."

a-bare

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After escaping prison, it was found that the midget was also a fortune teller.



When he robbed a bank and escaped with the money, the headlines in the next days newspaper said,



"Small Medium at Large."



a-bare

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i rear-ended that guy shortly after he made his escape.....he got out fuming mad, and said "i am not happy"

i looked at him and asked, "well, which one are you then?"



keep it going

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He'll be here all week, ladies and gentlemen!  Try the veal!

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i rear-ended that guy shortly after he made his escape.....he got out fuming mad, and said "i am not happy"
i looked at him and asked, "well, which one are you then?"

keep it going

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You guys are setting the bar a little low for midget jokes.

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aim low , hit low
 

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i rear-ended that guy shortly after he made his escape.....he got out fuming mad, and said "i am not happy"
i looked at him and asked, "well, which one are you then?"

keep it going

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After that the little guy (Martin) was needing a pick-me-up before his brazilian jiu-jitsu session and decided to stroll down to Starbucks, which was only a few blocks away. Once inside, the cashier politely asked what beverage she could start working on for him, and he told her he had two requirements and as long as she could meet those, she had his permission to fix it anyway she liked. #1 it needs caffeine in it #2 it needs copious amounts of caramel.



The barista responded with these directions in the affirmative with an "aye aye cap'n" and half-salute and began diligently making his drink. A few minutes later, little bit was sipping on his hot caramel-laced coffee when Manute Bol strolled through the door.



Now, the barista didn't have a clue as to who this was. In her head, he was just this freakishly tall black man coming in for a cup of joe. But Martin knew exactly who this son of a bitch was. He had watched him many times before play for the Washington Bullets back in the 1980's. Martin had always secretly hated the tallest man he had ever seen.



It was obvious that Manute was a horrible basketball player, but why then was he allowed to play in the NBA and make presumably millions of dollars? It was because of his height, darnit to hell.



Martin felt shortchanged all of those years, and Manute became his motivation for training in the deadly arts. Manute Bol represented everything wrong in a culture that rewarded some people and made fun of others.



In a fit of rage, Martin ran over to the African Giant, with the speed of Tom Cruise running (in any movie), climbed him like a ladder and then performed a beautiful rear-naked choke on the big man.



As Manute fell to the ground, Martin backflipped and ended up in full mount and begin to ground and pound Mr. Bol into oblivion.



Just then a concerned citizen, a grandmother of three from Sunnyvale traveling to see her sister-in-law for a weekend casino trip, pulled out her conceal carry weapon and shot Martin in the head.



A recovering Manute Bol, caught his breathe and walked up to the hero-grandma and said, "Dank u".

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I don't get it?