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Wednesday, September 02, 2009


Let's have some jokes

I'm cold and tired today and could do with a laugh. Here's my favourite joke:

A man wakes up one Saturday morning with a blinding hangover and no memory of the previous night. Pulling the pillow over his face in despair, he reflects that he's probably done something stupid and his wife is going to be very upset with him.

When he finally gathers the courage to open his eyes, though, he sees on the bedside table a glass of fresh water, two aspirin and a little note reading, 'Thought you might want these, honey. xxx'

Bewildered but grateful, he downs the aspirin, and, feeling a little better, staggers towards the bathroom to shower. In there, he finds his towel and dressing gown newly laundered and warming on the towel rack.

Seriously puzzled, he showers, dries himself on the fluffy towel, wraps himself in the cosy dressing gown and heads downstairs.

His son sits at the kitchen table eating his breakfast. There's another note: 'Sweetheart, I've gone to the market to get some steaks for dinner. There's freshly-squeezed juice in the fridge and croissants keeping warm in the oven. Love you.'

'What,' gasps our hero, collapsing at the table, 'on earth did I do last night?'

'Oh,' says his son around a mouthful of jam, 'it was really funny. You came crashing in at three in the morning singing a song about camels, fell over, broke the hall table and threw up on the floor. Then Mummy had to drag you upstairs, undress you and put you to bed.'

'But, but...' our hero stammers, 'I made a complete fool of myself! Why is she being so nice to me?'

'Oh,' says the son, taking another mouthful. 'When she started pulling your trousers off, you yelled, "Lady, leave me alone, I'm married!"'

Who here has a good joke to share?

A veterinarian retires and buys a pub in the country. Just as he's closing up, around midnight on the first night he hears a terrible wailing and is shocked to discover the spectral shape of an old siamese cat sitting on the bar.
"Good lord!" he exclaims, "will you stop that dreadful noise!"
The cat blinks at him and shuts up. They stare at each other for a few moments, before the man asks if there's anything he can do for the cat.
"Why yes," replies the cat. "you see, I died in a traffic accident in which my tail was traumatically amputated. I'm too embarrassed to move on without my tail, so I was wondering if you could sew it back on for me."
The old veterinarian sighs regretfully. "I'm so sorry," he says, "I would, but it's my liquor license. It states quite clearly that I cannot re-tail spirits after midnight!"
*Glares at shaggy dog*

Here's one of mine (it's possible that it's not funny if you're not Jewish, but I'm not in a position to tell):

A young Jewish boy is getting into trouble at his local public school. He's constantly breaking things, stealing things, starting fights, mouthing off to teachers and generally making trouble. His parents decide to change schools to see if he does better at the local private Jewish school. For a few months everything seems fine, but then the trouble starts up again. His grades plummet, he's coming home with black eyes and bruised knuckles, and the parents have to meet with the principal at least once a week to discuss some mischievous thing their son has done. At the end of the semester he's asked not to return. So the parents move house to a different district in order to get him into a different public school. But the next year it's the same thing. A few weeks of quiet followed by a return to the old ways. Next year, different private school, same story.

Finally, at their wits' end, the parents decide to try the local Catholic school. It's not their ideal choice, seeing as they're Jewish, but it seems to be their final option other than some sort of punitive boarding school, which they really don't want to do. So they take him down, get shown around, and he enrolls. As always, the first couple months go smoothly, and the parents wait. Ten weeks, twelve weeks, four months.. still no problems. They call the principal and ask about their boy's behaviour. "Oh, he's great!" says the principal. "Truly a model student."
"Great," think the parents, but they decide not to say anything to their son lest they ruin it. But six months, eight months go by and finally, at the end of the school year, they just have to ask.

"Nathaniel," they begin, "we want you to know that we're really pleased with the progress you've made this year. We really need to ask, though. You've changed schools so many times, why has this one made such a difference?"

"Are you kidding?" responds the boy, "I know what they do here to Jewish boys who step out of line! They have a statue of it in every room!"
Everything is quiet at Truckers' Choice cafe off the highway one morning: just the waiter and one customer enjoying a cup of coffee and a newspaper.

Suddenly, the door slams open and twelve enormous bikers roll in, looking for trouble. While the waiter hastily prepares them twelve coffees, they spot the sole customer and decide to have some fun with him.

Surrounding him, they pick up his coffee and pour it down the back of his shirt. Rather than fight, however, the man continues quietly reading his newspaper.

Seeking a further response, they grab his newspaper, shred it, and stuff the pieces down the front of his shirt. Still the man does nothing, staring ahead as if he doesn't notice them.

Frustrated, they pick him up by his heels. They're bouncing his head on the floor when the waiter emerges with the coffees and starts handing them out.

With the bikers distracted, the man stands up, dusts himself off, puts down some money to pay for his drink and makes his wordless way out.

'Man,' says one of the bikers, adding a sprinkle of cinnamon to the top of his beverage, 'that guy was the biggest wuss I've ever seen.'

'Yeah,' says the waiter glancing out the window. 'And the worst driver too. He's just reversed his truck over a dozen motorbikes.'
Two men are sitting in a bar, talking - as a certain sort of man is prone to do - about their cars.

"My Porsche," says the first man, "is such a sweet ride. Takes off like a rocket, turns instantly... love that car."

The second man nods. "I know what you mean. My Mazerati just flies past anything on the road."

A third fellow leans over from the next table. "I hate to interrupt," he says, "but I have a car that drives faster and corners better than either of yours."

"Really?" asks the first man. "What is it?"

The third man shrugs. "A rental."
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