Old and New Jokes

Promises to improve foreign relations with Hawaii.Runs a series of attack ads against Martin Sheens character on The West Wing.His #1 choice to work on his cabinet is That Bob Vila guy.Outstanding record as Governor of Rhode Island nullified by the fact that no one really cares.Anybody mentions Washington, he asks, The state or the DC thingie?At the debates, answers every question with a snarled, You wanna wrestle?!?Vows to put an end to the war in Pokemon and free the Pikachu refugees once and for all.Says the Pledge of Allegiance as quickly as possible, then shouts, I win!On the very first question of the debate, he attempts to use a Lifeline.

You might be a redneck if…
You think the last words to the Star Spangled Banner are "Play Ball…"

Q: How can you tell if the drummers platform is level? A: Drool is coming out of both sides of his mouth.

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he’s a she.
Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, and nurturing
social deal and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull
it all off! For starters, the vast majority of men don’t even think about selecting
gifts until Christmas Eve. It’s as if they are all frozen in some kind of
Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they
– with amazing calm –
call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree. Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco
products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You
might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my
husband tells me it’s an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th
hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I’m convinced
Santa is a woman. Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe
would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet
under the tree, still in the bag. Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all,
there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted and
strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh amid wide-eyed, desperate
claims that buck season had been extended.
Blitz en’s rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist. Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he’d still have transportation
problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and
clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions. Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the
chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and
repaint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon
monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas
tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-deg

(On Late Night on 6/6/89.)

Dave has one of his more respectable guests on the show, a Connecticut
lady (didnt catch the name) who caters weddings and other social
events, and has written books on the subject.

She poses a question for Dave, that apparently someone has written her:

Suppose have have set up a huge party in honor of someone. You
have set up a band, a large outdoor tent, and a complete spread of
hors doeuvres, etc. Hundreds of invitations have been sent out.

Then, the night before the event, the guest of honor dies. What would
you do?

Dave replied, Make sure he had adequate ventilation.

A man is sitting at a bar one night, wearing a fancy new watch, covered with buttons and lights and dials. The woman next to him says, “Wow, thats a really fancy watch.”
“Thanks, says the guy, “Its the cutting edge of technology. I can telepathically ask this watch anything I want to know, and itll answer me, telepathically.”
“Rubbish, youre having me on,” says the girl.
“No, its true,” says that guy. “Look, tell you what, Ill prove it. Ill ask it if youve got any panties on.” The guy scrunches up his eyes for a moment, as if concentrating hard to talk to his watch, then opens them and says, “Nope, it says you havent got any panties on.”
“Well, its wrong,” says the girl, “I do have panties on.”
”Damn,” says the guy, slapping his watch, “its an hour fast!”

How do you drown a blonde? Put a scratch n sniff sticker at the bottom of a pool.

The Boy Who Wanted to Be a Truck Driver

One day, a little boy goes into the candy shop and orders five pounds of m-n-ms,.

The lady at the counter asked him Dont you mean five bags?

He said No, i want five pounds.

She was reluctant, but measured them out, put them in a bag and handed them to the little boy. He paid for them, and went outside and sat on the curb.

He ate a few m-n-ms, and a cat walks by.

He picks up the cat and takes a big bite out of it.

He moves a little further down the curb, and does it all over again.

After the little boy did this about 15-20 times, the lady in the candy store starts to wonder.

She goes outside and asks the little boy What in the hell are you doing?

The little boy gives her this answer I am learning how to be a truck driver like my daddy. Im popping pills, eating pussy, and moving down the line.

En la escuela la maestra está dando un dictado y los estudiantes escribiendo, cuando una de las palabras que la maestra les dicta es huevos.

Inmediatamente Robertito, en voz baja, le pregunta a Pepito:

Oye Pepito, ¿Huevos es con h o sin h?

Pepito le contesta:

Yo no estoy seguro si va con h, pero, por si acaso, yo escribí COJONES.

Un tipo hambriento entra a un restaurante; se sienta en una mesa sucia y ordena:

Ea, mesero, venga aquí por favor.

Pero nadie le hace caso.

Insiste:

Oiga, mesero, venga por favor

Nuevamente, nadie le hace caso.

Mientras espera, mira hacia la mesa y ve a 15 hormigas punk en motos, armadas con bates, cadenas, navajas y látigos persiguiendo a una sola. La hormiga solitaria vestía chamarra negra, pantalón de cuero, botas negras y conducía una motocicleta plateada.

El hombre, asombrado, observa como el grupo de 15 hormigas intenta atrapa a la hormiga solitaria, cuando, de pronto, la hormiga solitaria da un giro de 180 grados en su vehículo, saca un látigo y de un sólo golpe tumba a 6 hormigas; se da la vuelta y sigue su camino.

Las cosas se están poniendo buenísimas, pensó el tipo. Hasta el apetito se le había quitado.

La persecución continuaba, y todas iban a la máxima velocidad esquivando vasos y platos, de improviso, la solitaria saca del bolsillo una bomba de humo; enciende la mecha y la arroja hacia la pandilla. El humo se expandió rápidamente haciendo que las perseguidoras tuvieran poca visibilidad y dos hormigas más cayeron al suelo. Ahora únicamente quedaban 7.

Varias hormigas le arrojaban navajas tratando de agujerear las llantas. Pero la hormiga era sorprendente y se movía de lado a lado. Colérica, la hormiga jefe, una enorme roja, bien fortachona, saca una cadena larga y le pega un latigazo en el brazo a la solitaria. Ésta perdió el equilibrio y se estrelló contra un grano de arroz; rápidamente la hormiga se levantó y se subió a la moto, pero cuando levantó la mirada estaba rodeada. Las 7 hormigas punk, irritadas, sacaron sus armas; empiezan a acelerar sin avanzar, la otra hace lo mismo. Entonces las punk aceleran a toda velocidad con las armas al frente, la solitaria saca una cadena y de pronto…

Llega el mesero y limpiando la mesa dice:

¿Qué le sirvo, señor?