Muslim Martyrs Jokes
4 muslim martyrs jokes and hilarious muslim martyrs puns to laugh out loud. Read jokes about muslim martyrs that are clean and suitable for kids and friends.
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Unearthly Funniest Muslim Martyrs Jokes to Tickle Your Sides
What is a good muslim martyrs joke to make people laugh? Check out this list of funny stories that will for sure put a smile on everyones mouth.
Three Muslim women are sitting talking...
The first one says, "I miss my eldest son Ahmed. He was martyred in Iraq last year."
"Oh I know," says the second women, "I miss little Hamza. He drove a car-bomb into a Syrian checkpoint six months ago."
The third woman nodded, "Me too. My Omar was a s**... bomber in Gaza, so sad."
The first woman shook her head sadly. "Kids these days. They blow up so fast."
This 47 virgins thing that a Muslim martyr gets...
Would you call that a nubile prize?
Kids Today
Two Arab mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat's milk.
The older of the two pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. They start reminiscing.
'This is my oldest son, Mujibar. He would have been 24 years old now.'
'Yes, I remember him as a baby,' says the other mother cheerfully.
'He's a martyr now though,' the mother confides.
'Oh, so sad dear,' says the other.
'And this is my second son, Khalid. He would have been 21.'
'Oh, I remember him,' says the other happily, 'he had such curly hair when he was born.'
'He's a martyr too,' says the mother quietly.
'Oh, gracious me . . . , ' says the other.
'And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would have been 18,' she whispers.
'Yes,' says the friend enthusiastically, 'I remember when he first started school.'
'He's a martyr also,' says the mother, with tears in her eyes.
After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and, searching for the right words, says . . .
'They blow up so fast, don't they?'
Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat’s milk.
The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos.
And they start reminiscing.
"This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now."
"Yes, I remember him as a baby" says the other mother cheerfully.
"He’s a martyr now though" mum confides.
"Oh, so sad, dear" says the other.
"And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21."
"Oh, I remember him," says the other happily, "he had such curly hair when he was born."
"He’s a martyr too" says mum quietly.
"Oh, gracious me…" says the other.
"And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18," she whispers.
"Yes" says the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he first started school."
"He’s a martyr also," says mum, with tears in her eyes.
After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says, "They blow up so fast, don’t they?"
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