Jokes

Over a month ago I asked you for jokes you personally recommend, and how did you respond? With no jokes, that’s how, unless you’re S.C. in Red Bluff, who sent me several cut out from newspapers. In the words of the immortal Hank Kingsley, get ready to have a good time. I’ve edited all of them.

This first one reminds me of the story about the Allies after the Second World War deciding that anything that the Axis had done and the Allies hadn’t was illegal and so inventing the Nuremberg trials: A fellow passing through a small town noticed many bull’s-eyes with a single hole right in the center. They were on buildings and fences and telephone poles. He asked a policeman who the sharpshooter was, and the cop pointed to a politician crossing the street toward them. The traveler asked the politician, “This is the best marksmanship I’ve ever seen! How did you get to be so accurate? The politician said, “It’s easy—I shoot first and then draw the circles.”

“If lawyers are disbarred and clergy defrocked, then it follows that electricians can be delighted, musicians denoted, cowboys deranged, models deposed, tree surgeons debarked, and dry cleaners depressed.” Of course it does.

I have laughed at blonde jokes, although I suppose they’re vicious slurs on the blonde community. I don’t think I’ve actually known many blondes—or blonds, either—and I don’t expect them to be dimwits. For now I’ve made the protagonist in the next rib tickler a politician. “How do you make a politician’s eyes light up? Shine a flashlight in his ear.” Nyuk, nyuk.

For old people: “I have good news and bad news,” the defense lawyer said. “What’s the bad news?” “Your blood matches the DNA found at the crime scene,” “What’s the good news?” “Your cholesterol is down to 140.”

This one is paraphrased from the Ozarks Christian News: A man sees a sign on the side of the road—“Talking dog fer sale.” He pulls over, and a beautiful dog bounds up to the fence, wagging its tail and grinning. The man asks, “You talk?” The dog responds, “Yep, since I was a pup. I worked under cover for years for the CIA and the FBI. No one suspected a canine spy, and I was extremely successful. Now I’ve retired out here with my bitch, just taking it easy.”

Just then the dog’s owner comes over and says, “Ten dollars, take him or leave him.” The man says, “Ten dollars! That’s all?” The owner says, “Yeah, he’s an awful liar—he’s never been out of the yard.”