There Is No Joke I Love To Tell More Than This One

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
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Jesus has just been nailed to the cross. The Roman soldiers have ushers all his disciples to the bottom of the hill, lest they try to rescue him. Peter, of course, is consumed with sorrow.

Suddenly, Peter hears a heavenly voice! It’s Jesus! Jesus’ voice says “Peter, my son … come to me … I have something to tell you.”

Peter tries to get to the cross, but one of the soldiers takes his sword, cuts off Peter’s leg, and shoves him back down the hill. Poor Peter.

Peter hears the voice again. It’s Jesus! “Peter, my son … I am your Lord. Come to me … I have something to tell you.”

Peter is determined to answer the call of the Lord, so he hops back up the hill. The soldier cuts off his other leg, and shoves him back down.

And yet, the voice comes again! “Peter, my son … come to me!” So legless Peter drags himself up the hill, where the soldier cuts off his arms, and sends him rolling back down the hill.

The voice comes one more time. “Peter, my son … come to me … I have something to tell you.” Peter gives it one last effort. Using his teeth, he drags himself up the hill. The soldiers watch this guy with no legs and no arms drag himself toward the cross. Finally one soldier says “oh, just let him through. What could he possibly do, with no legs and no arms?”

All the while, Peter can hear the voice calling to him “come to me … come to me …” He gets to the cross, and painfully pulls himself up. He crawls up the cross, and at least, he is looking at the Lord. “Lord,” he says “I heard you call, and I came to you, even though they cut off my legs, and my arms, and I had to get here by dragging myself along with my teeth. But I came. What is it, oh Lord, that you have to tell me?”

And Jesus gazes lovingly at Peter, and says in a dreamy voice …

(wait for it)

“Peter! I can see your house from here!”

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First off: Delphica, that’s horrible.

:snicker:

Anyhoo, here’s my joke.
Two proper Southern ladies are sitting on the veranda, passing the time of day, and the subject of conversation eventually turns to the presents their husbands have bought them recently.

The first lady says to the second, “Do you see this here precious diamond bracelet I’m wearin’? My dear husband gave me that for my last birthday.”

The second lady says, “That’s nice.”

The first lady then says, “And do you see that lovely swimmin’ pool over across the yard? My dear husband built that for me last Christmas.”

The second lady says, “Well, that’s nice.”

The first lady, playing her trump card, says, “And for our anniversary last year, my darlin’ husband booked us on a round-the-world cruise!”

The second lady again says, “That’s just so nice.”

The first lady (remembering her manners) says, “But, darlin’, I’ve been talkin’ about myself entirely too much! What about you? What has that sweet husband of yours given you lately?”

The second lady says, “Well, for my last birthday, my husband sent me to charm school.”

The first lady responds, “Charm school? Now what in the world would you need to go to charm school for?”

The second lady replies:

“So that when I feel like sayin’ ‘Fuck you!’ I can say ‘That’s nice’ instead.”
Thank you! Thank you! Don’t forget to tip your servers!

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There was a really rich guy who wanted a painting on the wall of his dining room. He contacted an artist who was known for incredible paintings, but was also quite eccentric. He said: “Now listen carefully. I’ll be out of town for one week, and during that time, I want you do paint a mural of Custer’s last stand on my wall.”

A week later, the guy returned. Upon entering the dining room, he saw a hideous painting of a gigantic pile of cow dung with a halo, and angels were standing all over it playing trumpets. Nearby, there were hundred of Indians in different obscene positions. So he goes do the artist and starts complaing: “You idiot, what on Earth did you do to my wall? How is this supposed to represent Custer’s last stand?”

"Well, I was trying to envision Custer’s last thoughts right before he died. I figured that the last thing that he said to himself was:

Holy shit, look at all these fucking Indians!

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“What do you call a dog with no legs?”

.
.

"It doesn't matter, he won't come to you, no matter what you call him."

.

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This one really happened and I love to relate this over and over again.

One night a bunch of us friends went out clubbing. After much dancing and drinking, we all sat down by a pool to relax for a bit. A couple of people decided to have smoke.

Just as one of them was lighting his ciggie, a girl piped up “Hey, I don’t think you should smoke, you can get AIDS (she obviously meant cancer, but I guess she was trying to overstate her case)”

One of my guys held up his cigarette and retorted in a flash, “Not from this butt you won’t.”

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There were 2 flies on a toilet seat.
One left.
Why?

He was pissed off.

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How do you get conjoined twins off a sofa?

Just jerk one off and the other will come.

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or…

What do you call a dog with no legs?
Cigarette…becasue you can only take him out for a drag.

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One day this guy goes into his backyard to find a gorilla in his tree. So he gets his phonebook and looks up “Gorilla Removal”. He calls the first name on the list, and waits for him to come.

The gorilla removal expert finally arrives, carrying a stick, a chihuahua, handcuffs, and a shotgun. “Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says. “I’m gonna climb the tree, and poke the gorilla with the stick. You hold the chihuahua; he’s a trained attack dog. When the gorilla falls out of the tree, the chihuahua is trained to go for the gorilla’s balls. When the gorilla instinctively clasps his hands over his nuts, I’ll drop out of the tree and put the handcuffs on him.”

“Okay,” says the homeowner. “That sounds easy enough. But I have just one question…what’s the shotgun for?”

“That’s in case I fall out of the tree first…”

“Shoot the dog.”

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History tells us his ‘nickname’ was Mahatma, meaning ‘great spirit’. His real name was Mohandas.

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err, maybe I should read the rest of the thread before correcting someone.
A neutron orders a drink. He orders a few more. After a while, he gets ready to leave, and asks the bartender how much he owes. The bartender says:

“For you, neutron, no charge.”

A grasshopper walks into a bar. Bartender says, “Hey, we have a drink named after you!” To which the grasshopper replies;

“You have a drink called the ‘Kevin’?”

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I can’t believe someone got to it first. My dad always told it, “Shoot the goddamn dog”. Some more of Dad’s classics:

Two potatoes are standing on a street corner. How can you tell which one is the prostitute?

The one stamped “Idaho”.

A vendor was selling fruit at the side of the road when a gentleman approached him and asked, “What’s good today?” The vendor replied, “Well, I have peaches that taste like anything you want.” The gentleman said, “What do you mean?” The vendor handed him a peach and said, “Take a bite and tell me that doesn’t taste like a hamburger.” The gentleman took a bite and exclaimed, “Wait a minute…this tastes like steak.” and the vendor replied, “Oh, just turn it a little.” So the gentleman turns the peach over, takes a bite and says, “That tastes like the best hamburger I ever had! Gimme a peach that tastes like a cantaloupe.” The vendor hands him one, the man takes a bite and says, “That tastes like watermelon” and the vendor replied, “Well, just turn it a little.” The man does so and says, “It sure does taste like watermelon!” Then the man leans in and says, “Gimme a peach that tastes like a woman.” The vendor smiles and hands him a third peach. The man takes a bite and says, “This tastes like shit!” and the vendor replies…“Turn it a little.”

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An old farmer was just starting for home at the end of the day, driving his pickup truck back from the south forty. The truck starts to sputter and cough, and then stalls. He can’t get it started again, so he starts to walk the long road back. His old boots are just falling apart–worn through the sole and the heels kinda wobble–so the walking is killing his feet. Just as night is falling, it starts to rain. Feeling mighty low, the farmer is getting in a pretty foul mood. Just then, he stumbles on a rut in the road, and breaks off the heel on his left boot. So the farmer picks up the heel, and starts singing…

“You picked a fine time to leave me, loose heel”
[sub]think Kenny Rogers…No good?..try this[/sub]

94

Oh man. You guys have got to go and play with this.

As for my joke:
Q: What did the hat say to the hat rack?
A: You stay here, I’ll go on a head!

Thank you, Laffy Taffy!

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This guy walks into a psychiatrist’s office with a duck on his head. The psychiatrist says, “May I help you?” And the duck says, “Yeah, help me get this guy off my ass.”

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Three mice are drinking at the local mouse bar. The first mouse throws back a slug of whiskey, then says “Every morning, I walk up to the mouse trap, kick the cheese out of the way, then do 100 bench presses.”
The second mouse throws back a shot of tequila, then says “You know what the worst part about rat poison is? You can make a strong cup of coffee out of it, but it really doesn’t taste that good. Oh well. Two cups a morning is all I need to wake up.”

The third mouse finishes sipping his beer, slides the glass away, then slowly stands up. As the other two mice stare at him, he drawls

“Well, it’s been fun, but it’s time for me to go fuck the cat.”

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A man approaches the gates of Heaven. The angel in charge asks him his name and then says “And how did you get here?”

“Well,” said the guy, “it happened like this. I was sure my wife was cheating on me, but I had no proof. So, today, after I left the house for work, I came back an hour later to see if I’d catch her in the act. Sure enough, there she is, lying naked in bed, but I don’t see the guy anywhere. So I start searching the apartment. Finally, I look out on the porch, and there’s this guy, hanging on to the railing of the porch. I quickly went to my tool chest and got my hammer and started hammering on the guy’s fingers to get him to let go and fall. When he fell, however, the bushes below broke his fall. I was SO steamed at this point that I went to the kitchen, dragged the refrigerator from the kitchen to the porch and threw it on the guy. Unfortunately, the exertion gave me a heart attack, and here I am.”

“Well, thank you for the story,” says the angel, “you may pass.”

A second guy comes up to the gates. “How did you get here?”

“Well,” guy #2 starts, “I was exercising in my apartment, jumping on the trampoline. I must have jumped to high on my last jump, because I went sailing out of my apartment over the porch. Luckily, I managed to grab on to the railing of the apartment underneath me. So, there I was, holding on for dear life, when this MANIAC comes along, and, instead of helping me, like a normal human being, he starts HAMMERING ON MY FINGERS! Of course, I had to let go. Again, luckily, the bushes broke my fall. But then this idiot goes ahead and throws his fridge on me! And that’s how I got here.”

“Interesting story…” says the angel with a chuckle. “You may pass.”

A third guy comes up to the gates. “And what’s your story?” the angel asks.

“Picture this,” says the third guy. “I’m naked in the fridge…”

Zev Steinhardt

98

inor
if you say his sore feet made his temper flare sometimes he would be a
surly calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis

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A guy is skydiving for the first time. He is a very sensible and studious sort…always memorizes and follows the rules perfectly. So he watches hiw wristwatch, and as soon as he sees that the proper amount of time has passed, he pulls the ripcord. Nothing happens. Now, most folks might start to freak out, but our hero knows the rules. He sontinues to watch his watch. At the proper time, he pulls the emergency chute. Nothing happens. Now would be the time to freak out, but he doesn’t just yet. Why? Because as he is hurdling toward the earth, he sees another man on his way up.

So as they pass eachother, the failed parachutist says “Say there, friend, do you know anything about parachutes?”

“No,” replies the other man, “Know anything about camp stoves?”

A guy thinks he has a tapeworm. He goes to the doctor, who runs some tests, and then confirms what the guy thought all along.

“Mr. Simmons, you do indeed have a tapeworm. We will begin treatment tomorrow. I will see you at precisely 2 o’clock. Bring a banana and a cookie.”

“A banana and a cookie?” thinks the guy. But he does as the doctor says. He shows up the next day with the banana and the cookie and the doctor says “Let’s begin. Remove your pants and underwear and bend over.”

The man does as he is told, upon which the doctor peels the banana and shoves it directly up the man’s ass.

The man screams in pain and anger. He curses the doctor. He flails all around the room threatening “lawsuit!” But the doctor just quietly stares at his wristwatch, counting to himself. After exactly two minutes have passed, he shouts “Shut up! Bend over!” in a voice so forceful and manly that the man forgets what he is doing and obeys immediately. Upon which he shoves the cookie up the guy’s ass.

At this point the man is simply broken. So he does not bother to protest when the doctor tells him to come back again the next day, 2 o’clock, with a banana and a cookie.

The next day the routine is the same. Banana up his ass. Wait two minutes. Up goes the cookie. Come back tomorrow at 2. And so this “treatment” continues for about two weeks, to the point where the guy starts to almost look forward to his 2 o’clock sessions in a morbid kind of way.

Finally one day, as the guy is pulling up his drawers, the doctor says “Mr. Simmons, tomorrow will be the final day of treatment. I want you to come here at 2 o’clock. Bring a banana and a hammer.”

“A hammer?” he thinks excitedly as he walks out of the office. Why? And more importantly, what would that feel like?

The next day the guy shows up a little early, banana and hammer in hand. He pulls down his pants as always, and the doctor crams that banana up there. Then he counts the seconds. As the two minute mark approaches, the guy clenches his teeth, just waiting for that hammer.

But two minutes comes and goes. Nothing. Three minutes. Still nothing. The doctor just stands there, holding that hammer. What is this, the guy thinks…is he teasing me? six minutes…seven minutes…

He’s about to ask the doctor what the hell he’s up to when a little head pops out of his ass and shouts “Hey! Where’s my fuckin cookie!?”

WHAM!

Thank you for your time.

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