Old and New Jokes

Q: Why did the blonde bring a gun to the wedding? A: She was told she was supposed to hold up the brides train.

There had been no snow during the entire month of December. The elves in the bicycle department had been on strike since October, and now there was the possibility that the elves in the doll department might join them.

Daily life at the North Pole was not pleasant, and Santa Claus was in a pretty foul mood. Mrs. Claus was suffering from arthritis and was very mad over the fact that her red velvet cake had fallen in the oven. Santa had tried to round up some extra helpers, but with no snow, they werent able to make it by sleigh to the workshop.

Rudolph had a bad cold, and his nose wouldnt light up. Comet and Prancer were fighting over Vixen, who had just come into heat. Blitzens right foreleg was still in a cast, and the vet said that they would have to wait until 24 December to decide if Blitzen would be able to pull the sleigh.

The electricity went off, and all the power tools came to a stop. There was NOTHING going right in Santas workshops. The helpers were about three weeks behind in their work, and it didnt look that all the toys would be ready by Christmas Eve. Santas foul mood was exacerbated by a bad case of hemorrhoids, and he wasnt too happy about the possibility of having to ride so far on Christmas Eve.

Seeing the terrible state of affairs at the North Pole chez Santa, the angels took up an offering to buy a gift for the unhappy workers and the Clauses – something that would brighten their Christmas. They chose a Christmas tree, and they sent it down by an angel.

The angel burst into the workshop room and asked,

HEY, WHERE DO YOU WANT ME TO PUT THIS TREE?

Heard at a rock concert at La Trobe University,
Melbourne Australia.

I had a major argument with my girlfriend, Helen. I was in the wrong,
but not enough to back down without an argument.

So after storming away, and cooling off, I had a think. I was
clearly in the wrong and felt pretty guilty, with all the trauma
it had caused.

So to make it up to Helen, I said Id buy her a gift.

Any thing at all, my love, I said, overcome with remorse.

Oh, I dont know, replied Helen,You really shouldnt do
this you know. But, if you are, just get me something
really expensive, that I dont need.

The following day I booked her in for chemotherapy.

Dear Friend,

It is with the saddest heart that I pass on the following news. Please join me in remembering a great icon – the veteran Pillsbury Spokesman. The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin. Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies and Captain Crunch. The gravesite was piled high with flours.

Long time friend Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, describing Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded. Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Despite being a little flaky at times, he still, as a crusty old man, was considered a roll model for millions. Toward the end it was thought he would rise again, but alas, he was no tart.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play Dough, two children, John Dough and Jane Dough, plus one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart.

The funeral was held at 3:50 for about twenty minutes.

Bush and Gore went ice fishing. Gore went on one side of the lake and Bush on the other. Later that day, Bush came back with 129 fish and Gore came back with none.
Gore screamed for a recount. The next day Bush came back with 173 fish and Gore once again screamed for a recount. So on the third day, Gore sent a secret service to spy on Bush. Bush came back with 293 fish this time and gore got none. Gore goes to the secret service spy and asks whether Bush is cheating. Yes, replied the spy, hes putting holes in the ice.

Theres this guy sitting at a bar, just looking at his drink. He stays like that for half an hour. Then this big trouble-making truck driver steps next to him, takes the drink from the guy, and drinks it all down. The poor man starts crying. The truck driver says: Come on man, I was just joking. Here, Ill buy you another drink. I just cant stand to see a man crying. No, its not that. This is the worst day of my life. First, I fall asleep, and Im late to my office. My boss, outraged, fires me. When I leave the building, to go to my car, I find out it was stolen. The police say they can do nothing. I get a cab to return home, and when I leave it, I remember I left my wallet and credit cards there but the cab had already driven away. I go home, and when I get there, I find my wife in bed with the gardener. I leave home and come to this bar. And when Im thinking about putting an end to my life, you show up and drink my poison . . .

You might be a redneck if…
You grow Vidalia onions, rather than considering them a gourmet item.

Q: How many netters does it take to submit a light bulb joke?
A: 1000 – One to invent the joke and 999 to submit How many programmers does it take to screw in a light bulb? None, thats a hardware problem.

Two guys are sitting in a bar getting pretty loaded. Suddenly, one of them blows lunch all over himself.

Aw man, my wife is going to kill me when she sees this, he says. His buddy replies, Dont worry about it. That happened to me before. Heres what you do. Put a $20 bill in your pants pocket. When you get home, tell your wife that some drunk threw up on you and he gave you the twenty to pay for the cleaning, OK?

All right, Ill try it. So he goes home and his wife immediately starts bitching about his suit. Now look what youve done to yourself!!

No, no, honey, he slurs back. Some drunk guy puked on me, but he gave me this twenty bucks to get my suit cleaned. With that he reaches into his pocket and throws the money on the table.

His wife looks at it and says, I thought that you said he only gave you one $20. How come there are two here? The man slurs back,

He shit in my pants, too.

Cierto día, un satélite yanqui se dañó. La NASA, al tener dificultades para repararlo, decide poner un anuncio en Internet buscando un profesional que lo hiciera. En busca del trabajo, llegan un ruso, un chino y un venezolano. Un científico de la Agencia le pregunta al ruso:

¿Cuánto dinero necesita para hacer la reparación?

Dos millones de dólares.

¿Y por qué?

Porque iremos al espacio a buscar el satélite; lo repararemos aquí, en la tierra, y luego lo volveremos a poner en órbita.

Luego el profesional le pregunta al chino:

Y usted, ¿cuánto dinero necesita?

Un millón de dólales.

¿Y por qué?

Polque ilemos a repalalo allá mismo. Luego de repalalo nos relesalemos a la tierra.

Por último, el perito le pregunta al venezolano:

Y usted, ¿cuánto necesita?

Tres millones de dólares.

¿Y por qué tanto?, pregunta, asombrado, el experto.

El venezolano contesta:

Usted se queda con un millón. Yo me quedo con otro millón. ¡Y le damos un millón al chino para que haga la reparación!