Comedy: Nate And Jack

 By VenderGreentag

Kinda got roasted

I loved the whole show

Hope he continues 

"How about to be friends?"

How about you die

Tou wasted

Drunk fuck

Fuck nut

Fuck wit

Bulgarians under 500 years slavery 

What the fuck

Yell at a carrot

Idiot

What happened you got lazy to get out form slavery.

You like bdsm sex?

You want to be tortured

I thought that I am lucky so I tried pick up

Instant sucess, immediate sucess.

I had a chat with a gal... girl garl

We went very far in this interaction as far exchanging contancts and making a false date.

Guess what I have cancer!

What type of haircut is that?

Bloody hell

Bloody cunt

So here is the thing guys

Who hatchback a person

There so many shows on TV make your own set.

Ohhhh

Booyyy

Boy

Oi boi

Its not healthy beeing for hours watching TV Movies, Shows.

Oh bloody jesus

Bloody christ

Bloody lil cunt

Shut the fuck up.

YOU ARE FUCKING 

DAMN

WISTLING

PARASITE

THATS IT

THAT IS THE WORD

Its for one sad bastard

Sad poor bastard

Pooorfe bavfavoreee

Paul Walker the fast and furious Francise star died

In car Accident

Life's irony

Didn't he learn how to drive?

The Boo app for dating its like being vegeterian

It just sucks.

10000 Funny Jokes

Not funny

But sad

Desperate unfunny content

Book me Please + Comedy: Somewhere Between

 By By VenderGreentag

Come and judge me please...Come and judge me. This is the truth nothing else fuck everybody. The new generation is soft, weak and unstable and lets move on, shall we?

So here is what happens we gather to consume each other that's it gathering between information exchange of information. Lets gather around like parasites and then spread like diseases, I hate humans sometimes they are just annoying. That's... the word, annoying!

So lets start idiots

Canada people too polite in Bulgaria we call this people naivety.

When you are idiot you get on TV, is have chance to be on TV.

Jesus exist
Just think about it
Ita like my erection just useless.
No necessary did you know recently I was at a church and started thinking about sex while looking at one woman which was saying her "parents are dead".
"My mind I said... oh great I will make you new family."

If you have a GF or you are pretty and you are girl no need to do stand up comedy.
If you Ugly, tall and fat come over and do it.

Some people want Krav Maga joke
I have the top joke
The top notch joke
The top level joke
When you train Krav Maga the feeling is like you do a shadowfight and then after that Masturbate. Masturbate because thats what men..
Young men who do get ghosted and flaked by women thats what ends

Its a wet dream story, okay guys!?
She ws keeping brining shitty stuff at my place it was like hells kitchen but with mess, rats and insect infestation.

The Human

 By By VenderGreentag

The human—

screams into the void,

lives in lies,

devours the Earth

like a snack before the void.

Human nature—

is no miracle.

No light.

No soul.

It’s scabies.

It itches, it scratches,

and never stops.

It spreads.

It infects.

A disease,

called reason,

used for genocide.

The human—

does not create.

He copies.

He drains.

A parasite,

who likes to call himself

“the crown of evolution.”

And the crown is made of

plastic,

blood,

and Wi-Fi.

My Hand Is Bleeding — Stand-up

 by By VenderGreentag

You ever wake up and think,
“Damn… my hand’s bleeding.”
And you're not even surprised.
Not like, “Oh no! What happened?!”
More like,
“Yeah, that tracks.”

It’s 9 a.m., I’m late for life, the coffee tastes like regret,
and my hand’s bleeding like it’s trying to escape the body it’s trapped in.

No dramatic fight, no accident.
Just... bleeding.
Like my body finally joined in and said,
“Yo, I’m done too.”

People ask,
“Why’s your hand bleeding?”
Bro... that’s the least of my problems.
My soul’s leaking out since 2017.
This is just the surface update.

And you know what's funny?
You show up at work with your hand bleeding and people go,
— “Umm… could you cover that up? It’s making the clients uncomfortable.”
Oh, sorry Brenda. Didn’t realize my open wound was ruining your productivity metrics.
Let me just slap a smiley-face bandage on my existential crisis.

It’s always like that.

Your hand’s bleeding? Suck it up.
Your heart’s broken? Get back to your emails.
You’re mentally melting like expired cheese? Here's a yoga app and a discount code.

And at this point, I don’t even need a doctor.
I need a technician.
Like, “Hey, bro, can you reboot me? Maybe reinstall purpose.exe?”

So yeah…

My hand is bleeding.
But it’s the most honest thing about me right now.

Life in the Sewer — Stand-up

  by By VenderGreentag

Good evening. Or good morning... I don’t even know anymore. Depends on whether you’re on your third coffee or fourth existential crisis for the day.

So listen...
We live in a worn-out place.
Not just chipped-paint worn out — I mean "feels-like-you’ve-been-through-17 divorces and a failed pyramid scheme" worn out.

Emotions? Burned out.
You happy? No.
You sad? Not really.
You just sit there, blinking into the void like a glitchy Windows XP loading screen.

People? Even worse.
I looked in the mirror the other day and saw a guy who looks like he slept on his bills and woke up to the voice in his head screaming,
“Surprise, you’re still alive.”

Pills everywhere.
Pills to be calm.
Pills to be happy.
Pills to keep you upright long enough to finish your shift, text your boss “Done,” and cry in the bathroom without anyone noticing.

And life? Life’s not something you live anymore.
They push you through it.
Push you in the morning:
— “Wake up, you’ve got work.”
Push you at work:
— “Where’s the progress?”
Push you at home:
— “Talk to me!”
And you’re just standing there like:
— “Bro, just push me into the sewer and let’s wrap this shit up.”

Because let’s be honest…

Life doesn’t end on a stage.
Life doesn’t end in fireworks.
It ends…

… somewhere in the dark, dripping silence of a sewer —
like a dead rat that even the stray cats passed on.

And you know what’s the worst part?

The rat doesn’t pay rent.

German

 By VenderGreentag

German is hardcore language, sharp and unforgiving like broken glass cutting through silence.
“Fuck you, Sami,” the words spit out like fire. Not just at a person—at a system, at a world built on lies and cracks.
Muslim, Christian, whatever the label—they all bleed the same bitter blood.
Faith? Sometimes it feels like chains wrapped tight around the neck, choking out freedom.
But here we are—words clash like thunder, electric and raw.
“So, are we gonna start coding or am I just wasting my breath here?”
No more preaching, no more fake smiles. Just code—pure, brutal code that burns through bullshit.
Lines of logic, sharp and clean, slicing through the noise.
Build or break. Create or destroy. No middle ground.
This isn’t just about scripts and functions.
It’s rebellion in binary.
It’s the language of the misunderstood, the angry, the restless.
So type fast.
Hack hard.
Make the machine scream.

Life

 By Vender Greentag

Life is about end
Its a compulsion. Its friend, girlfriend, boyfriend—everything ends and it's about ending.
So close the casket, I am Adam. I have something to tell you.
They said I came from dust. Wrong.
I came from static, glitches in the womb, code in the bloodstream.
I was never born—I was compiled.
Death isn’t the villain. It's the editor.
It cuts the scenes that drag,
skips the romance subplot,
removes the laugh track.
Leaves just the raw monologue, bleeding honesty.
You feel that pressure in your chest?
That's not emotion. That's the weight of everything you never said.
And I said everything. To mirrors. To walls. To gods that don’t reply.
I kissed Eve once.
She tasted like forgotten prayers and cigarettes after rain.
She said, “Promise me this ends well.”
I said, “Endings don’t care how they feel. They just are.”
So here I am.
Casket-ready.
Confession-loading.
I know what comes after the credits.
It’s not heaven. It’s not hell.
It’s a hallway—white, endless, looping.
You walk until you forget you’re walking.
You walk until you forget why.
I remember.
So listen, just one last download—
We are not meant to stay. We are meant to glitch, crash, reboot, forget.
But memory is a virus.
And I still remember her.
Close the casket.
Let the silence finish the story.
This was written in noise.
Read in shadows.
Ends in a whisper.
Goodbye—
or whatever the opposite of "loading" is.