Which reminds me:
What do you call a small Russian condom?
Little Red Riding Hood
What happens when you fail to pay Bobby Jindal on time for his services?
You get repossessed.
What did the cannibal do after he dumped his girlfriend?
Wipe.
Did you hear about the cannibal who passed his enemy in the jungle?
A woman is in a large cauldron. One cannibal says to the other, ‘It’s going to have to be Manhattan style. She’s on her period.’
My favorite cannibal joke requires some stage directions:
A Frenchman, an Englishman, and a New Yorker are exploring the deepest jungle when they’re captured by natives. The chief lines the captives up in front of a boiling cauldron and says to the Frenchman, “Good evening. Let me tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to drain the blood from your body, we’re going to boil the flesh from your bones, and we’re going to take your skin and make a canoe. Do you have any last request?”
“Geev me . . . un croissant!” says the Frenchman. So the chief gets him a croissant. The Frenchman takes a big bite of it, shouts, “Vive le France!” and leaps into the boiling cauldron.
The chief goes to the Englishman and says, “Good evening. Let me tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to drain the blood from your body, we’re going to boil the flesh from your bones, and we’re going to take your skin and make a canoe. Do you have any last request?”
“Give me . . . a cup of tea!” says the Englishman. So the chief gets him a cup of tea. The Englishman takes a polite sip, shouts, “For queen and country!” and leaps into the boiling cauldron.
The chief goes to the New Yorker and says, “Good evening. Let me tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to drain the blood from your body, we’re going to boil the flesh from your bones, and we’re going to take your skin and make a canoe. Do you have any last request?”
“Yeah,” says the New Yorker. “Gimme a fork!”
“A fork?” says the chief.
“That’s right, a fork!”
So the chief gets the New Yorker a fork. The New Yorker goes like this [stage direction: make stabbing motions all over your own body] and shouts, “Here’s yer fuckin canoe!”
I was going to tell that one, but couldn’t be arsed to type it all out. 
ETA: I reckoned someone else would do it for me. 
.
Among farmers, ‘pig’ refers only to the male of the species, so if you’re talking about a mixed gender group it’s correct to say ‘sows and pigs’. Mix that with a reporter who doesn’t know that particular detail, and hilarity ensues.
One physicist was overheard to brag to another,
‘Over the weekend I cleaned my house so well, a star exploded’
(Physicists are a laugh every 18 million kilometers)
I reached for a bottle of Viagra in the dark and picked up a bottle of Tipex instead, in the morning I woke up with a huge correction.
I’ve been drinking brake fluid recently, but I can stop any time I want.
Some South Dakota ranchers were out riding near the North/South Dakota border when they ran into some North Dakotan coal miners. Heated words were shared between the two groups until finally, one of the coal miners grabbed a stick of dynamite, and threw it at the ranchers.
One of the ranchers caught it, lit it, and threw it back.
I got my valium mixed up with my viagra…
I still can’t get it up, but I don’t really seem to mind that much…
Sounds like one my dad used to tell. ‘I’ve got my Span-Tran. It’s half spanish fly and half tranquiliser. It makes you hunt like mad for it, but if you don’t get any you don’t give a darn.’
A BEWILDERED COWBOY
While hiking down along the border this morning, I saw a Muslim extremist fall into the Rio Grande River. He was struggling to stay afloat because of all the guns and bombs he was carrying.
Along with him was a Mexican who was also struggling to stay afloat because of the large backpack of drugs that was strapped to his back. If they didn’t get help, they’d surely drown.
Being a responsible Texan and abiding by the law to help those in distress, I informed the El Paso County Sheriff’s Office and Homeland Security.
It is now 4 PM, both have drowned, and neither authority has responded. I’m starting to think I wasted two stamps.
FlyByNight512:
I never knew that. I always assumed that “boar” was the word for male swine, and “pig” was gender-neutral.
I…don’t get it. 
How about this?
Focus: It’s where the sun’s rays meet.
Gotta love homonyms.
No kidding that was a tough one.
What do you call a fish with no eye?
Fsshhh. (fun to say.)
It’s more fun to say a pig with three eyes.
A hot wind is blowing dust and tumbleweed down the main street of a little one-horse town in the Old West when a horse trudges in off the prairie. The rider is dressed all in black and has the coal-black piercing eyes of the hardened killer. Men find business elsewhere and mothers call their children in off the street as the stranger plods the length of the town and draws up in front of the sheriff’s office; but the sheriff’s waiting there already, rifle close at hand. He and the stranger look at each other in silence for maybe five minutes before the stranger speaks.
“Ah’m lookin’ for the Brown Paper Kid.”
He speaks in a slow dull monotone, but his eyes never leave the sheriff’s face as that tough man replies evenly.
“Ain’t heard nothin’ about no Brown Paper Kid. What’s he like?”
The stranger ponders this for a bare moment. “Waal, he wears brown paper pants and a brown paper jacket, brown paper boots and a brown paper hat. He packs two six-guns in a brown paper belt and he rides a hoss with a brown paper saddle.”
The sheriff nods, once, fractionally. “An’ what’s he wanted for?”
“Rustlin’,” says the stranger tersely.
Johnny says “its only a quarter, but I like the way you’re thinking!”
I have to tell you that not only did I laugh at this one (evil, terrible me), I shared it with friends who also laughed 
Holy cow, it was so wrong, and sooooo funny!