Two men are hunting in a forest when one suddenly collapses. He isn’t breathing and his friend can’t find a heart beat. He calls 911.
“Hello, whats your emergency?”
“Help, my friend is dead!”
“Okay, first, we need to make sure he’s dead.”
The friend is silent for a moment when a gunshot is heard.
“Okay, now what?”
Ho Chow calls his boss and says, “Hey I no come to work today, I really
sick. I got headache, stomach ache, and legs legs hurt, I no come
work.”
The boss says, “You know something Ho Chow, I really need you today.
When I feel sick like you do, I go to my wife and ask her for sex. That
makes everything better and I go to work. You try that.”
Two hours later Ho Chow calls again. "I do what you say and I feel
great. I be at work soon…
You got a nice house.
Jokes from the academy:
Man walks into a brains store and starts up an aisle. Thhe first chest he passes is full of brains and has a sign: Assistant professors’ brains, $10 a pound. He continues up the aisle and the second chest is full of brains and has a sign: Associate professors’ brains, $15 a pound. Continuing, there is a third chest full of brains with the sign: Full professors’ brains, $20 a pound. Finally he comes to a chest with a just few brains in it and the sign: Deans’ brains, $1000 a pound. So he asks the proprietor what gives, why do deans’ brains cost so much more than the others? He replies,
“Do you have any idea how many deans we have to slaughter to find a pound of brains?”
From the academy, take 2:
Two deans are walking down a corridor and the dean of science says to the dean of arts, “I have this wonderful department–mathematics–that costs me almost nothing. Instead of all the fancy equipment I have to buy for the lab sciences, all you have to supply to keep a mathematician happy is a table, a chair, a pad, a pencil, and a wastebasket.”
The dean of arts replies, “Oh I can top that. All you need to keep a sociologist happy is a table, a chair, a pad, and a pencil.”
Here’s a Presidential one you can use on any president of your choice (I’ll insert George Washington for the sake of neutrality).
George Washington is visiting a class of elementary-school kids. He says, "I understand you have been learning about tragedy. Can anyone give me an example of a tragedy?
A little boy shyly raises his hand. “Yes?” says Washington. “Um…a twadegdy would be if I was pwaying with my fweind an’ he ran in the street an’ got hit by a car.”
Washington smiled. “Well, son, that would be very sad, but that’s not a tragedy. That is what we would call an accident. Anyone else?”
A girl stands up and says, “It would be a tragedy if…if my Girl Scout troop were on a bus trip, and the bus fell off a cliff.”
Washington shakes his head, sadly, and says, “My, yes, that would be awful, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be a tragedy. We would call something like that a great loss. Anyone else?”
Another boy calls out, “If you and Mrs. Washington were both aboard Air Force One and a bomb exploded on board, destroying the plane, that would be a tragedy.”
Washington beams and says, Yes! Exactly! That would be a tragedy! Now, can you tell me why?"
The boy responds, “Well, it wouldn’t be an accident, and it sure wouldn’t be any great loss!”
Damnitall! I forgot how to tell jokes! Should be “the plane exploded in mid-air”!
Don’t telegraph the punchline! Sheesh! :smack:
A joke encountered in looking through many past pages in this thread, put the following one (heard long ago) into my head. It’s from the World War II era – seen as happening some way into the future, from the perspective of that time.
Hermann Goering dies, and finds himself in hell. The Devil meets him, and tells him, “Hermann, you’ve been a bad fellow, and I’m afraid you’re damned for all eternity. Still – you were by no means the worst of the Nazis, so we’ll try and do you a kindness. You can choose for yourself, what punishment you want to have for eternity. I’ll show you round, and give you some idea of what you might pick.”
“OK,” says Goering; and they set off. They come to a cell which contains Mussolini, who is being messily disembowelled by a bunch of demons. “That looks a bit icky,” says Goering, “can we see some alternatives?” They carry on to another cell, lodging Hitler; into whose rectum the demons are driving a large metal spike. “Quite honestly,” says Goering, “I don’t fancy this one either.”
“Well,” says the Devil, “you’ll have to make a choice some time. Never mind, on we go.” In the next cell is the Croatian Fascist leader Pavelić, who is being boiled in a cauldron. “I have to say, I’m not keen on that,” Goering remarks. “My word, you’re hard to please,” says the Devil. “All right, then – further onwards.”
In the following cell, Goering is surprised to see Stalin having vigorous and ecstatic sex with Greta Garbo. “That’s more like it,” he says. “Please may I have Stalin’s punishment?”
The Devil shakes his head and sighs. “You don’t get it, do you, Hermann? This is Garbo’s punishment.”
The first version I heard of that was set in the USSR and about Stalin (snippets only, sorry).
A late thank you for explaining how this conversion works. I’ve just spent 10 minutes trying to guess the decimal value of numbers I picked at random in octal. I think I’m getting the hang of it.
This should help.
rowrrbazzle – your Stalin material was too fragmentary for me to “get” in any detail; but one figures that the basic drift is, that not everyone would consider Uncle Joe’s snuffing it, a total tragedy / calamity / catastrophe / whatever.
Brings to mind, another from “back then” (early days of Cold War).
An American soldier, and a Russian one, are on sentry duty opposite each other on the border of their respective sectors of Berlin.
The American says: “Only another two hours, and then I’ll be relieved. Thank God !”
The Russian replies: “Too right. Only another two hours, and then I’ll be relieved. Thank Stalin !”
The American says: “That’s an odd sort of expression. What would you say, if Stalin were dead?”
“Thank God !” says the Russian.
True story: I once heard the late great Polish born mathematician Sammy Eilenberg describe himself as a simple Pole.
Joke: Why are Polish and polish spelled the same?
Because Noah Webster couldn’t tell shit from shinola
Did you hear about the mathematician who hated negative numbers so much that he would stop at nothing to avoid them?
How does Santa hold up his trousers?
With a jingle belt.
Related: You can give a cat a fish. - Imgur
Tangentially related: I once read about an editor who, disgusted with reporters’ spelling, circulated a memo:
911 operator what’s your emergency?
Bob: My neighbor is storing bags of pot in his wood pile and I believe he is selling it. Can you send the sheriff over to investigate? His address is 123 main st.
911 operator: We will dispatch the deputy immediately!
Sheriff and deputy respond to call and commence to going through the wood pile but find nothing.
Sheriff tells the deputy, “I’ve seen this before, sometimes these dopers drill holes in the logs and hide their weed inside the logs, get the ax and start splitting this wood up until we find the pot!”
After chopping wood for four hours they find nothing and decide nothing is there and leave.
Neighbor comes home from work and notices all the logs have been split up, scratches his head in confusion and goes inside to answer the phone ringing.
On the other end of the line is Bob." hey neighbor, how’s it going?"
Neighbor answers “Just fine, all my logs have been split up for the winter, did you see anyone over here?”
Bob: “Merry Christmas neighbor!”
A man dies and finds himself in Hell. Satan is standing next to him.
“Welcome to Hell,” says Satan. “You have three doors that stand before you. You must choose one door to stand behind for all of eternity. But first, you may have a peek behind each door before you choose!”
The man, terrified, opens the first door. He sees an infinite plane of sharp broken glass on concrete, billions of bloody, tormented people all standing on their heads. The moaning in agony of from this scene sent a chill down his spine despite Hell’s heat.
“I’ll take a peek behind door two,” as he gulps with trepidation.
He opens door two to find a landscape similar to the first door. The gnashing of teeth and howls of pain coming from billions of people, also standing on their heads, against bloody planks of splintered wood riddled with rusty nails made him recoil in horror. He slams door two and runs to door three, imaging it must be even worse.
But when he opens it, he sees an ocean of shit with many people standing there smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee.
A bit relieved, he thinks to himself, this isn’t so bad compared to the other two! I mean sure, standing in shit up to your chest for all eternity is horrible, but damn, I could drink coffee and smoke cigs forever as some sort of comfort.
He tells Satan he chooses door three. Satan nods, hands him a mug of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. The man wades into the human sewage, as Satan slams the door shut behind him, and immediately the man lights up to try to mitigate the smell. He begins to take a sip of coffee when the door barges open and Satan yells, “Okay fools, coffee break’s over—everybody back on their heads!”
A middle-aged gentleman is preparing to paint his porch when the doorbell rings and a very attractive, blonde co-ed tells him she’s looking for extra college money and is willing to do any chores he might have.
How much to paint my porch, he asks? She quotes him $25. What a deal! he thinks (the porch covers 3 sides of the house). Everything you need is right inside the garage door. Just knock when you’re done, he says, planning on napping until she’s finished.
45 minutes later, knocking on the door wakes him and he goes to pay up, wondering how she completed the work so fast. All done, she chirps, accepting the cash and the extra $20 he tips her. I had enough paint to give it a second coat, she calls back over her shoulder as she starts down the front steps, Oh, and it’s not a porch, it’s an Audi.
No, let’s hear it.
An opinion without 3.14 is just an onion.