Guy walks up to a cop and says, “My car’s been stolen!”
Cop says, “Where did you see it last?”
“It was right on the end of this key!”
Cop tells him to go on down to the precinct, they’ll fill out all the paperwork etc. and points him in the right direction. As the guy turns to walk away, the cop says, “Hey, buddy, you might wanna zip up your fly first.”
Guy looks down and says, “Awwww, man. 
They got my girl, too.”
/!\ Warning, Jewish joke ahead /!\
A desperate Jewish woman is running across the beach, crying and tearing at her hair. She screams : “Help ! Please, I beg you, somebody help ! My son, the doctor, has been mauled by a shark !”
n/m
My new book called “Dwarf Discrimnation” is on sale now. It’s top-drawer stuff.
Someone knocked on the door today. I opened it and saw a guy standing there, about 3ft 3in tall. “Who are you?” I said. “The meter man.”
Just found the Pink Panther’s “to do” list:
To do
To do
To do, to do, to do
To do, to doooooo
I’ll probably slap my forehead later, but I don’t get it.
There exists a stereotype of the Jewish mother taking every opportunity to mention that her son happens to be a doctor.
I once bought my kids batteries for Christmas with a note saying, "“Toys not included.”
We were so poor when I was a child that at Christmas we exchanged glances.
Three men die in a car accident on Christmas Eve. They all find themselves at the Pearly Gates waiting to enter heaven. On entering they must present something relating to or associated with Christmas. The first man searches his pocket, and finds some mistletoe, so he is allowed in. The second man presents a cracker, so he is also allowed in. The third man pulls out a pair of stockings. Confused at this last gesture, St Peter asks, ‘How do these represent Christmas?’ Answer: ‘They’re Carol’s.’
A farmer has about 500 hens, but no rooster, and he wants chicks. So, he goes down the road to the next farmer and asks if he has a rooster that he would sell.
The other farmer says, “Yep, I’ve got this great rooster, named Kenny. He’ll service every chicken you got, no problem.”
Well, Kenny the rooster costs $3,000, that’s a lot of money, but the farmer decides he’d be worth it. So, he buys the rooster. The farmer takes Kenny home and sets him down in the barnyard, but first he gives the rooster a pep talk.
“I want you to pace yourself now. You’ve got a lot of chickens to service here, and you cost me a lot of money. Consequently, I’ll need you to do a good job. So, take your time and have some fun,” the farmer said, with a chuckle.
Kenny seems to understand, so the farmer points toward the hen house and Kenny takes off like a shot. WHAM! Kenny nails every hen in the hen house - three or four times, and the farmer is shocked.
After that, the farmer hears a commotion in the duck pen and, sure enough, Kenny is in there hittin’ the ducks. Later, the farmer sees Kenny after a flock of geese down by the lake. Once again - WHAM! He gets all the geese. By sunset he sees Kenny out in the fields chasing quail and pheasants.
The farmer is distraught and worried that his expensive rooster won’t even last 24 hours.
Sure enough, the farmer goes to bed and wakes up the next morning to find Kenny flat on his back out in the middle of the yard, mouth open, tongue hanging out and both feet sticking straight up in the air. Buzzards are circling over head.
The farmer, saddened by the loss of such a colorful and expensive animal, shakes his head and says, “Oh, Kenny, I told you to pace yourself. I tried to get you to slow down, now look what you’ve done to yourself.”
Kenny opens one eye, nods toward the buzzards circling in the sky and says,
Confutatis maledictis, flammis acribus addictis!
The previous joke reminded me of this one.
A farmer has a bunch of hens. And he has a rooster, Old Red, that services the hens. But the farmer decides Old Red is getting on in years so he buys a new young rooster.
The new rooster is strutting around the farm checking things out and Old Red walks up and introduces himself. “Glad to see you, young fellow. I gotta admit I’ve been getting tired lately. So tell you what - we’ll split the hens in half and I’ll even let you take first pick.”
The young rooster laughs and says, “I don’t think you understand. I’m the new rooster in charge here and I’m not settling for half the hens. I’m taking them all.”
Old Red says, “Well, I guess I see your point. But could you maybe let me have just a couple of hens for old time’s sake?”
The young rooster says, “What part of all the hens didn’t you understand? You might as well pack up and leave.”
Old Red sighs and says, “I suppose you’re right. I’m old and my time is over. But I hate to just walk away. Could we at least have a little competition? That way if you beat me, I can at least feel I tried.”
The young rooster asks, “Okay. I got no problem knocking you around in a fight.”
Old Red answers, “Oh no, nothing violent. How about a simple race? We can race up to and around the house and the first one back here is the winner.”
The young rooster laughs and says, “Sure, why not? I’ll beat you easily and it’ll give me a chance to impress all the hens.”
Old Red says, “I suppose it’s true what you said about beating me easily. In fact you’ll probably be in the lead the whole way and nobody will even know we’re racing. How about you give me a thirty second head start so I can at least look good for part of the race?”
The young rooster says, “You’re on. You can have a head start and that way I’ll look even better when I pass you halfway and win the race from behind.”
So they line up and Old Red starts running as fast as he can. The young rooster waits thirty seconds and starts chasing after Old Red. And it’s clear that the young rooster is faster than Old Red and he’s closing the gap between them. A hundred feet. Eighty feet. Sixty feet. Forty feet. Twenty feet. By the time they reach the house and run around it the young rooster is only ten feet behind Old Red. And as they run past the front porch, the young rooster is only five feet behind Old Red and has almost caught him.
And that’s when the farmer, who’s been sitting on the front porch, picks up his shotgun and shoots the young rooster.
The farmer’s wife steps out and asks, “Did it happen again?”
The farmer answers, “Yup, that’s the tenth gay rooster in a row. I haven’t found a straight one since I bought Old Red.”
I only read about 600 of the 968 posts in this thread, so hopefully no one has told this one yet. It helps if the listener is familiar with monster mythology:
Who is it that you can kill with a wooden stake through his heart?
Anyone.
Paul Desmond, the jazz alto saxophonist and composer, once saw a former girlfriend with a wealthy financier. He remarked, “So this is the way the world ends, not with a whim, but a banker.”
What are the devices that allow you to see and walk through walls?
Windows and doors.
That reminds me of a joke. A ghost is talking to a human. The ghost says, “We ghosts can walk through walls!” The human said, “We humans can too. We just have to open doors first.”
All of this reminds me of a Superman radio show episode. Clark Kent is with Batman walking around in a house of mirrors. Both of them are frustrated. Clark blurts out the following gaffe:
<<… these mirrors are lined with lead. I can’t see through lead!>>
Batman casually responds: “Most people can’t.”
Clark laughs nervously [I think] and then apologizes for “not making much sense.”
Batman is still not suspicious and merely agrees that under such circumstances he can’t even think straight either.
Some “World’s Greatest Detective” for you! 
(You can think of this ashappening in a different continuity, but most likely the comic issue in which they simultaneously discovered each others’ dual identities had not been published yet.)
If quizzes are quizzical, what are tests?
An explorer in the deepest Amazon suddenly finds himself surrounded by a bloodthirsty group of cannibals.
Upon surveying the situation, he says quietly to himself, “Oh God, I’m screwed…”
The sky darkens and a voice booms out, “No, you are NOT screwed. Pick up that stone at your feet and bash in the head of the chief standing directly in front of you.”
So, he picks up the stone and bashes the life out of the chief.
Standing above the lifeless body, breathing heavily, looking at 100 angry natives…
You never really learn to swear until you learn to drive.
A wealthy man decided to go on a safari in Africa. He took his faithful pet dog along for company. One day the dog starts chasing butterflies and before long the dog realizes he is lost.
So, while wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the obvious intention of having lunch. The dog thinks, “I’m in deep shit now!” Then he noticed some bones on the ground close by, and immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat.
Just as the leopard is about to leap, the dog exclaims loudly, “Wow, that was one delicious leopard. I wonder if there are any more around here?”
Hearing this the leopard halts his attack in mid-stride, as a look of terror comes over him, and slinks away into the trees. “Whew”, says the leopard. “That was close. That dog nearly had me.”
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes. But the dog saw him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figured that something must be up.
The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard. The leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, “Here monkey, hop on my back and see what’s going to happen to that conniving canine sonofabitch.”
Now the dog sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back, and thinks, “What am I going to do now?” But instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers pretending he hasn’t seen them yet … … and just when they get close enough to hear, the dog says, “Where’s that damn monkey? I just can never trust him. I sent him off half an hour ago to bring me another leopard, and he’s still not back!!”
In the days of the Old West, there was a young cowboy who wanted more than anything to be the greatest gunfighter in the world. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn’t yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong.
Sitting in a saloon one Saturday night, he recognized an elderly man seated at the bar who had a reputation being the fastest gun in the West in his day. The young cowboy took a seat next to the old-timer, bought him a drink, and told him the story of his great ambition.
“Do you think you could give me some tips?” he asked.
The old man looked him up and down and said, “Well, for one thing, you’re wearing your gun too high. Tie the holster a lil’ lower down on your leg.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” asked the young man.
“Sure will,” said the old-timer.
The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his .44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player.
“That’s terrific!” said the cowboy. “Got any more tips for me?”
“Yep,” said the old man. “Cut a notch in the top of your holster where the hammer hits it. That’ll give you a smoother draw.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” asked the younger man.
“You bet!,” said the old-timer.
The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, then shot a cufflink off the piano player.
“Wow!” said the cowboy. “I’m learnin’ somethin’ here. Got any more tips?”
The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. “See that goose grease over there? Coat your gun with it.”
The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun.
“No,” said the old-timer, “I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” asked the young man.
When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.
Billy Bob goes hunting in the woods one day armed with his old .22 squirrel rifle. All of a sudden, a freakin’ big grizzly bear comes lumbering through the trees, scaring the crap out of Billy Bob. He takes a shot, but misses; at this point, the bear grabs him, rips his biballs off, flips him over on his belly, and proceeds to have his way with him.
Sore and humiliated, Billy Bob goes out the next day armed with his great-grandpa’s old Springfield and determined to kill the grizzly. They encounter each other once again, only this time the Springfield jams. Again, the bear throws Billy Bob to the ground and gives it to him up the chute.
The third day, Billy Bob goes out armed with a brand new assault rifle set on full auto. Once again he finds the bear and empties a full magazine at him without scoring a single hit.
Slowly the grizzly lumbers up to Billy Bob, rears up on his hind legs, and looks him squarely in the eye.
“Tell me the truth,” says the bear. “You ain’t just doin’ this for the huntin’, are you?”
Two guys walk past a dog lounging on the sidewalk, licking its balls. “Man. I wish I could do that!” says the first guy. The second suggests, “Maybe you should try petting him first.”