Ah, the doctor jokes…
A man goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doctor, I keep thinking I’m a baby goat.”
The dr. says, “Oh, stop acting like a little kid.”
A woman goes to the doctor and says, “Doctor, I only have 59 seconds to live!”
The doctor says, “Calm down, I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Thomas Edison was working on the incandescent light bulb. He had tried a number of filaments, but nothing was especially successful; they kept burning out too quickly.
In desperation, Edison turned to one of his lab assistants, a Native American named George Many-Hands. George suggested trying tungsten, and to make doubly sure that the bulb was a perfect vacuum. On the first try, the bulb burned for 10 hours straight.
Edison was overjoyed. “George,” he cried. “How did you know what to do?”
“It’s natural,” said his soft-spoken helper. “Many-Hands make light work.”
(A second part of this joke is not especially relevent these days, as it’s couched in obsolete terminology. It involves Edison’s returning the favor by supplying illumination to the bathroom of George’s chief’s boat, and the punchline is “…and so Edison was the first man to wire a head for a reservation!” It’s strained, but I figured it was worth semi-inclusion.)
Works better when said aloud…
Man walks into a psychiatrist’s office wearing nothing but Saran Wrap. The psychiatrist takes one look at him and says “well, I can clearly see you’re nuts.”
Far away in the Himalayas there was a small village that was constantly terrified by this terrible monster named the “medecrin.”
The medicrin would come down to the village once a week and eat a villager. Now, as you would guess, the population of the village decreased greatly after a few months of this, so the chief of the village called forth the greatest hunter he could find and asked him to hunt down and kill the medicrin.
So, after much talk, the hunter finally agreed to kill the medicrin. But the hunter, being smart, decided he would have to trap the monster to kill it, afraid of getting eaten if he faced it mano-a-medicrin.
So he looked in his Himalayan field book and read that medicrins like sugar, so he ordered all the villagers to dig a deep hole and fill it with all the sugar in the village.
Later that week, the medicrine came down to the village. When it went after its usual meal, it saw the pit of sugar, looked at it a moment, and then went after another villager.
After the medicrin left, the chief called up the great hunter, and scolded the hunter for failing, but the hunter convinced the chief to give him another chance.
The next day, the hunter looked back to his Himalayan field book and found that medicrins like loons even more than sugar.
So the great hunter went out, caught a loon, and placed it in the pit with the sugar. Now, it turns out that loons like sugar even more than medicrins, so the loon ate up all the sugar. So, a few days later the medicrine returned on time for its villager feast.
But, as it was heading for the village, the medicrin saw the pit with the loon. The medicrin immediately wanted to eat loon, so it climbed down into the pit. As soon as it finished the loon off, it fell over, deader than a doornail.
The moral of the story?
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A loon full of sugar helps the medecrin go down.
Mahatma Gandhi, as you may know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him …
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A super callused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.
Don’t hurt me.
Blah blah Red Indian (*) chief, blah blah three wives, no children, blah blah, medicine man, blah blah, chief buys three exotic animal skins from trading post, blah blah, one to each wife, blah blah, oldest wife gets tiger skin, middle wife gets kangaroo skin, youngest wife gets hippopotamus skin, blah, sleeps with each wife on respective animal skin once…
blah blah time goes by, nine months later all three wives in labour at same time, once again on animal skin, oldest wife bears a son, middle wife bears a daughter, youngest wife bears fraternal twins, one of each…
Because the squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sum of the squaws on the other two hides, that’s why.
(* Ya wanna moan about the word ‘Indian’, I’m game. )
An Englishman and a citizen of the Czech Republic went on a hunting trip. When they did not return for several days, a search party was sent after them. The party found a he-bear and a she-bear, each with full tummies. Becoming suspicious, they killed the two bears. They cut open the stomach of the she-bear, and found the Englishman. The leader of the party then observed, “You all know what this means – the Czech is in the male.”
I am reminded of an Indian casino not far from where I live; I do not gamble there myself (I prefer Reno), but a very good friend’s cousin Eddie assures me that it’s true. Apparently, these casinos are bankrolled by Nevada gaming companies, which recoup their investment by leasing them slot machines, security technology, and such. They also train the dealers and cashiers, for a fee. At this casino, the cashiers are required to ask for ID before cashing out a patron for more than $500 – two forms of ID, in fact. The four forms of ID permitted are: (1) a state-issued driver’s license or identification card; (2) a major credit card; (3) a passport; or (4) an ID issued by the casino to its frequent guests.
This is where my very good friend’s cousin Eddie comes in; he gambles at this casino, and he goes there with his friends. One friend in particular, Wayne, lives out of state, and likes to spend time with Eddie when he’s in California visiting his family. In fact, he likes to gamble with Eddie, because Eddie’s advice at the tables is, according to Eddie, flawless. Problem is, Wayne has a sister, Frieda, who has the worst conceivable luck, and seems to spread it around. Wayne and Eddie refuse to gamble with her, but she insists on coming along, and Wayne’s mother backs her up, and Wayne’s dad pushes Eddie to keep the peace, so they bring her along and ditch her before her luck can rub off. She doesn’t seem to mind, really; she sits at the nickel slots until she’s lost her $50, and she goes and finds the guys, and they’re usually ready to leave by then.
But one day, the unthinkable happened: she won. Not only won, in fact – she hit a jackpot. On her last spin of the day, which is when she does the “five plays at a time triple bet extravaganza” whatevertheycallit where she bets a whole dollar in nickels in one spin. $50,000 – no, let’s write that out: fifty thousand dollars. Wayne and Eddie hear her whooping, and come over to find that Frieda’s apparently used up her entire life’s worth of good luck in one second. They help her to gather her 1000 nickels, they explain to her that all payouts over that must come from the attendant, and that payouts over $500 have to be made by the cashier – which is where they run into trouble.
You guessed it. Frieda doesn’t get out much, certainly has never left the country, and, in fact, lives with her parents. She has no driver’s license, no credit card, no passport, and no casino-issued ID. She has no ID whatsoever – a "four-nothing,"as they call it – and has never even been asked for one before. She is boggled; the cashier is boggled in turn, and calls her boss, who quizzes Frieda about her identity, and gets her thoroughly upset, frightened, and a little teary-eyed. The boss calls the manager, who sooths Frieda, brings her to his office, gives her a chair, calms her down, calls her by first name, and finally allows Freddie to use his ID to claim Frieda’s winnings, based on his regular patronage, Frieda’s consent, and Wayne’s family resemblance.
After all, he explains to the cashier, Frieda’s just another weird four-nothing, left to lose.
A man goes to his dentist because he feels something wrong in his mouth. The
dentist examines him and says, “that new upper plate I put in for you six months ago is eroding. What have you been eating?” The man replies, “All I can think of is that about four months ago my wife made some asparagus and put some stuff on it that was delicious…Hollandaise sauce. I loved it so much I now put it on everything — meat, toast, fish, vegetables, everything.” “Well,” says the dentist, “that’s probably the problem. Hollandaise sauce is made with lots of lemon juice, which is highly corrosive. It’s eaten away your upper plate. I’ll make you a new plate, and this time use chrome.” “Why chrome?” asks the patient. The dentist replies, “It’s simple. Everyone knows that there’s no plate like chrome for the Hollandaise!”
Did you hear about the polygynous Prince who outfitted his palace to digitally monitor the comings and goings of various individuals, most notably his many wives? His technicians tried and tried achieve a stable setup using the latest offering from Microsoft, but with the crashes and the trojans and the spyware/adware, this proved to be unfeasible.
The Prince wanted a stable, robust option, that would network and scale well. He had no problems paying his engineers to implement a solution that was a bit more technical. After much deliberation, they decided on the latest distribution of BSD.
His harem was guarded by Unix.
A farmer and his wife once had a baby boy who was obsessed with tractors. For his first brithday, they got him a cuddly stuffed tractor toy. For his second, a set of wheeled model tractors. For his third a little peddle tractor. For his fourth, he went a ride in is dad’s tractor. And this went on, year after year, until he was driving his father’s trator a lot, and loving it.
When he got to 18* his father came to him and said “Don’t even bother asking. I know what you want. Your very own tractor.”
But the boy said “Well, it’d be nice enough, but actually I don’t care so much now. I’m 18 now, a man, and what I’d really like is for you to take me to the pub for the first time.”
The man was surprised, but not displeased, and took the boy along that night. As they walked in the boy coughed a bit, for the bar was very smokey. He asked his dad if there was anything he could do, and dad said he’d get used to it.
Not standing for that, he took a gigantic breath, lasting most of a minute, and sucked in all the smoke, and then blew it out the door.
The patrons were amazed, and clustered round them saying “How…” and “What…” and “How did your son do that?!”
The man said “It’s obvious. He’s an ex-tractor-fan.”
WARNING: only to be told in countries where the legal drinking age and also the legal driving-farm-machinary-on-public-roads age are both 18. Advanced tellers of this joke may substitute 21.
Ringo became a gentleman farmer, but was having no success. His neighbor’s animals were all strong and healthy, so he went and asked him the secret to his success.
“well, for chickens, you wanna plant some corn.” The farmer said.
“Right, a field of corn for chickens.” Ringo replied.
“And for horses, you wanna plant some corn.” The farmer said.
“Right, a field of corn for horses.” Ringo replied.
“And for cows, you wanna…”
“I know, I know,” Rigno butts in, “I want a field of corn.”
“No,” replied the farmer, “everyone knows it strawberry fields for heifers.” 
In Beijing, the newlyweds Wong Xiu and Wong Xia are anxiously expecting their first child. There’s a bit of a surprise in store for them as the baby is born with obviously “western” features. Wong Xiu eyes his wife suspiciously, but Xia assure him she has been faithful, and summons her doctor. The doctor examines the baby and announces:
“Two Wongs don’t make a white, but sometimes occidents do happen!”
There is a monastery near Aspen, Colorado, called Snowmass. All the monks
have taken a vow of silence. They rarely speak. Each day begins with morning
worship. The service starts when the head abbot comes in and chants, “Good
morning.”
The monks chant in reply, “Good morning.”
They say not another word until evening vespers, when the head abbot comes
in and chants, “Good evening.”
The monks all reply in unison, “Good evening.” Not another word is spoken
until the next morning.
Several years ago one of the monks decided he had to break up the boredom of
this routine. The next morning when the head abbot chanted, “Good morning,”
all the other monks responded, “Good morning”, except the one bored monk
who, hiding his identity from the other monks, chanted, “Good evening.”
Quickly, the head abbot sang in reply: “Some-one chanted evening. He must be
a stranger.”
Right after Queen Victoria visited the Canadian city named after her
(Victoria, British Columbia, of course), she was asked if a housing
development could be named in her honor – Victoria Mews.
The Queen replied “We can be many things: We can be a city in Canada, and We
can be a falls in Africa, but We are NOT a mews!”
You Kant put Descartes before de horse.
(There’s probably a whole joke that comes before this, but I can’t remember it or find it.)
I don’t get these:
In the past, harems were guarded by Eunuchs.
I see. Thank you.
Still don’t get the other one, though.
Theres a book with that title. Its about grammar.
Did you hear that they’re going to replace the bells in the Leaning Tower of Piza with a clock?
Because it’s no use having the inclination, if you don’t have the time.
Cheers,
Vega