More Jokes

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
362

An old man goes to a young attractive woman and says,
'I’m a billionaire, I have a couple weeks left to live and I have no heirs. I have an offer. We get married and do the things married couples do. I will die in a couple of weeks and you inherit the billion dollars".

She thought to herself,
It’s only two weeks and then I will be set for life. It sounds like a good deal.
So, she agreed.

The man then said that he made that up. Then asked if she would have sex with him for 20 dollars.
She said, “Sex with you for 20 dollars. What do you think I am?”

The man said, “I know what you are. I’m just negotiating the price”.

363

I’ve seen a slightly different version of that one:
A scientist doing research on dolphins discovered that if he fed them a certain type of sea gull, they did not age at all. He kept his secret (and the dolphins) for many years, collecting all the sea gulls he could find while the dolphins continued to live forever, unchanged.

One day he went to the beach looking for more sea gulls, but there were none to be found. He had captured them all. So he went to the zoo, where he had heard that they kept a few specimens. He found their cage, snatched several chicks from their nest, and tried to beat a hasty exit from the zoo. On the way out, he snuck through the lion enclosure. Tiptoeing gingerly over a sleeping lion towards the door and freedom, he was immediately arrested and thrown in prison. The charge?

Transporting underage gulls across sedate lions for immortal porpoises.

In fact the first time I saw that joke was in the 70s, in an older book that might have been published in the 60s or 50s

364

California vintners in the Napa Valley area, which primarily produce Pinot Blanc, Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio wines, have developed a new hybrid grape that acts as an anti-diuretic.

It is expected to reduce the number of trips older people have to make to the bathroom during the night.

The new wine will be marketed as …

Pinot More.

365

So these three nuns are driving to some nun thing when the car explodes and they’re all blown to smithereens.

They appear at the Pearly Gates, and, of course, being pious women, expect to be let in. But when Saint Peter tells God who’s at the door, God panics.

“You can’t let them in! The place is full! Jesus Christ!.. no, son, not… never mind… I haven’t expanded this place in years! We’ll let them in later, just send 'em back!”

St. Peter is aghast. “We don’t send people back! Anyway, their bodies are all over I-95.”

God says, “Let 'em be someone else! Anyone they want! Get rid of them!”

So St. Peter goes back to the nuns. “Ladies, I’m sorry, but we’re full.” They’re crestfallen. “But don’t worry! We’re going to let you have another shot at life, and then you get to come in! In fact, you can be anyone in history you want to be!” He turns to the first nun and says “Who do you think you’d like to be, Sister?”

The elderly old nun thinks for a moment and say “I would like to be Marilyn Monroe.”

St. Peter is very surprised. He expected the answer to be Mother Teresa, or Mary or something. “Really? Marilyn Monroe? I don’t even think she was Catholic. But… why?”

“Well,” says the nun, “She was so beautiful, and rich, and famous, and glamorous, and…” here the nun gets a glint in her eye, “She had so many MEN.”

St. Peter is not delighted with this answer, but whaddya gonna do? He promised, and he had God’s authority. He snaps his fingerts and poof, the nun vanishes to be Marilyn Monroe. St. Peter turns to the second nun and says “What about you, Mother?”

The nun wastes no time. “Madonna.”

“Of course!” St. Peter says, “The mother of Christ herself, a sinless person born of the Immaculate Conception! I’ll just…”

“No,” corrects the nun. “Not that Madonna. The singer Madonna. You know, who did Borderline, Holiday, Ray of…”

“Yeah, yeah,” says St. Peter, who’s even more disappointed. “Why HER?”

“Well, she was beautiful, and rich, and famous, and glamorous… and she had so many MEN.”

St. Peter sighs. A deal’s a deal. He snaps his fingers, and the nun vanishes and rematerializes at some weird Eyes Wide Shut party in 1992.

The third nun - the oldest, quietest, mousiest one of the lot… is ready to go. St. Peter has much higher hopes for this one. “Who’ll it be, Sister?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, 'cause she’s had time to think on it, the nun says, “Sarah Pippalini.”

St. Peter says, “Who did you say?”

“Sarah Pippalini.”

St. Peter is bewildered. “I have absolutely no idea who that is.”

“Well, that’s who I want to be.”

St. Peter goes to his computer and types the name into the Heaven database. Snake eyes. “Sister, there’s no Sarah Pippalini in our records. And if we didn’t have her, she didn’t exist.”

“Well, I have a newspaper clipping about her right here,” the nun says, and from the inside of her habit she pulls out a crumpled old newspaper clipping that looks older than Moses, and hands it over.

St. Peter takes it, carefully smooths it out over his desk, and the headline reads SAHARA PIPELINE LAID BY TEN THOUSAND MEN

366

Q: How do you titillate an ocelot?
A: You oscillate its tit a lot.

367

A veteran Canadian fighter pilot is discussing his war experiences on puritanical CBC radio.

“We were over Belgium. All of a sudden, we were surrounded by Fokkers. Fokkers above us. Fokkers to the left. Fokkers to the right.”

The interviewer stepped in quickly. “Just to clarify for the listeners at home, a Fokker is a type of triplane often used by Germany during the war.”

“Yeah”, replied the pilot. “But these Fokkers were Messerschmitts”.

368

How do you catch an unique rabbit?
Unique up on it!

How do you catch a tame rabbit?
The tame way - unique up on it!

369

A young captain in the French Foreign Legion is assigned to take command of a fortress way out in the middle of the desert. He’s dropped off at this crumbling old Moorish fort in the middle of nowhere, like something out of Beau Geste.

So the sergeant major is showing him around, you know, here’s the men’s barracks, here’s the mess, here’s the armory. The captain notices a mangy old camel standing in the far corner of the courtyard. “Sergeant Major,” he says, “what’s with the camel?”

The sergeant major sort of brushes him off and seems to not want to answer the question. The captain, however, is insistent. “Sergeant Major, what is that camel doing in my fort?”

Now the Sergeant Major looks nervous. “Well, sir, the camel. Yes, the camel. Well, you see, sir, we’re out here in the desert and, I mean, we’re all men out here in the desert, of course. And, since we’re all men, well, there’s no women here, you understand. And sometimes, well, the men, they really MISS women, see, and when they miss women so much, being, you know, men and all, well… they can use the camel.”

The captain is horrified, but says nothing. He thinks to himself, well, if it’s good for morale, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and ask no more.

Anyway, he takes command, and the days turns into weeks, weeks into months. Not a whole lot happens out in the middle of the desert. And, well, the captain is a young man, too. And being a man, he starts to think about women. And pretty soon he’s thinking about women all the time. And soon, just a little, he starts to think about the camel. He tries pushing THAT thought out of his mind, but it keeps creeping back in. And, one night, it’s hot and sticky and he can’t sleep and the camel is all he can think about and finally he yells out “Sergeant Major! Bring that camel into my quarters!”

The Sergeant Major leads the camel in. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever been close to a camel, but a camel is a big goddamn thing. This camel has to duck its head to get through the doorway and it barely fits the width. So it’s only now that the captain realizes he’s really not sure how he’s going to go about making sweet, sweet love to a seven-foot-tall creature. They teach you a lot of things in officer candidate school, but they don’t teach you how to drill a dromedary, if you catch my drift. And, being an officer, he’s certainly not going to ask an enlisted man like the sergeant major how to bang a beast of burden.

So the captain pulls down his pantalons, orders the sergeant major to hold on to the reins, and starts to try a bunch of things. First he tries sort of hanging off the underside of the camel, but that doesn’t work. Then he tries kind of jumping up and hanging off the hump, but that doesn’t work. Now already pretty tired and sweating and with camel hairs all over him, he tries kind of shimmy up the rear legs, but that doesn’t work. He certainly can’t put the camel on ITS back. So finally what he does is, he takes a stool, puts it behind the camel, stacks a few books on the stool, precariously balances himself atop the stack, grabs the camel by its haunches and just goes to town and OOOOOHHHHHHHH GAWWWWWD FINALLY. When he’s done… it doesn’t take him long, it’s been awhile… he gives the camel an affectionate pat, looks down at the sergeant major and says “Well, Sergeant Major, is this how the men usually do it?”

The Sergeant Major looks up at him and says “Well, actually, sir, the men usually just ride the camel into town.”

370

I’ve got jelly on my autobiography.

That’s my story and i’m sticking to it.

(From this week’s Private Eye)

371

What does Geronimo yell when he jumps out of an airplane.

Meeeeeee!

A sadist, a masochist, a murderer, a necrophile, a zoophile and a pyromaniac are all sitting on a bench in a mental institution.

“Let’s have sex with a cat?” asked the zoophile. “Let’s have sex with the cat and then torture it,” says the sadist. “Let’s have sex with the cat, torture it and then kill it,” shouted the murderer. “Let’s have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it and then have sex with it again,” said the necrophile. “Let’s have sex with the cat, torture it, kill it, have sex with it again and then burn it,” said the pyromaniac. There was silence, and then the masochist said: “Meow.”

Who are the fastest readers of all time?

9/11 victims, they went through 87 stories in 15 seconds

372

WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR FISH
LIKE A BIG PIZZA DISH
that’s a moray

374

When an eel reaches out
And it bites off your snout
It’s a moray

375

He stole bases for thrills, and his last name is Wills -
That’s a Maury.

He’s a cad, he’s a ham, his last name’s Amsterdam -
That’s a Morey.

376

Everybody who dug up their copy of Callahan’s Crosstime Saloon ought to be ashamed of yourselves! :stuck_out_tongue:

378

McAfee’s not dead actually…

He is still running in the background.

What do you call an amputee learning karate?

Partial arts

Wives are like grenades…

– Remove the ring and boom, the house is gone!

379

Actually, I wonder if McAfee’s been uploaded to the cloud.

380

An old, astonishing Bulwer-Lytton winner, in the theme of some of the recent posts:

Luigi knew deep down in the pits of his four stomachs that he and his
fellow bovines on the island could no longer rely on the meager rations
of electricity doled out to them by Farmer Pietro to stay warm, and he
sought to convince the herd that the heat generated by a few hours of
singing would give them the independence they sought, saying simply,
“One day mooing heats our isle; I can beat Pete’s supply–get some
more hay!”

381

No rape jokes, please. No racist jokes, either.

382

What do you call 2 potatoes that hate each other?

Starch enemies

383

Man this job market has been rough.

I tried to get a job at Verizon but apparently it’s all about connections.

Then I applied for Brinks, but I don’t think I’ll be able to break in to that industry.

I guess I’ll have to see if Amtrak is hiring, but they have very long training.