Old and New Jokes

Algunos de los mejores (o peores) momentos de la vida son:

Enamorarse… y descubrir que el implicado(a) es homosexual.

Reírse hasta que te duela la panza… y que se te salga una ruidosa flatulencia en medio de todos tus amigos.

Encontrar miles de correos electrónicos cuando vuelves de las vacaciones… pero todos son cadenas aburridas y bobas (como ésta) o publicidad o peor aún, virus del Sircam.

Manejar por algún lugar lindo… y chocar por andar baboseando.

Escuchar tu canción favorita en la radio… porque tu CD player se descompuso.

Acostarte en tu cama y escuchar como llueve afuera… para después sentir las goteras del techo.

Salir de la ducha y encontrar que la toalla está calientita… pero porque tu perro se durmió sobre ella.

Aprobar tu último examen… pero teniéndole que dar un buen billete al maestro.

Recibir una llamada de alguien que hace mucho no ves… para pedirte dinero prestado.

Una buena conversación… con un agente del tránsito que te agarró en la movida.

Reírse de uno mismo… cuando te miras al espejo.

Escuchar accidentalmente que alguien dice que estás guapo(a)… pero quien lo dice es tu mamá.

Escuchar la canción que te hacer recordar a esa persona especial… cuando te acaba de cortar.

Ser parte de un equipo… de asalta microbuses.

El primer beso en los labios… a alguien de tu mismo sexo.

Hacer nuevos amigos… pero entre los amigos de lo ajeno.

Sentir cosquillitas en la panza cada vez que ves a esa persona… cuando otro(a) se la está agasajando sabroso.

Ver felices a las personas que quieres… pero felices porque te vas a mudar a Siberia.

Volver a ver a un viejo amigo y sentir que las cosas no cambiaron… porque los dos siguen igual de pobres.

Mirar un atardecer… sí, el atardecer de tu existencia.

Tener a una pareja que te diga que te quiere… que te quiere mandar al diablo.

Reírse sin motivos… a causa de la esquizofrenia que te está dando.

Este correo-e es para comprobar qué tan supersticioso eres. Si se lo reenvías a más de veinte personas en menos de cinco minutos, te garantizamos que te sacarás la lotería (¡aunque no hayas comprado ningún boleto!). Si no lo haces, alguno de tus hijos se volverá gay. El origen de este correo-e está en indochina, en el siglo XVII y da suerte a quien lo obedece y hace desgraciado a quien lo borra (que no te engañen, en Indochina ya tienen correo electrónico desde ese entonces). ¡En serio, es infalible, le pasó a mi compadre que se encontró un billete de lotería en el piso… y era el premio gordo!

Marine Corps Sniper. You can run but youll just die tired.

If restaurants functioned like shrink-wrapped (Microsoft) software:

Patron: Waiter!

Waiter: Hi, my name is Bill, and Ill be your Support Waiter. What seems to be the problem?

Patron: Theres a fly in my soup!

Waiter: Try again, maybe the fly wont be there this time.

Patron: No, its still there.

Waiter: Maybe its the way youre using the soup; try eating it with a fork instead.

Patron: Even when I use the fork, the fly is still there.

Waiter: Maybe the soup is incompatible with the bowl; what kind of bowl are you using?

Patron: A SOUP bowl!

Waiter: Hmmm, that should work. Maybe its a configuration problem; how was the bowl set up?

Patron: You brought it to me on a saucer; what has that to do with the fly in my soup?!

Waiter: Can you remember everything you did before you noticed the fly in your soup?

Patron: I sat down and ordered the Soup of the Day!

Waiter: Have you considered upgrading to the latest Soup of the Day?

Patron: You have more than one Soup of the Day each day??

Waiter: Yes, the Soup of the Day is changed every hour.

Patron: Well, what is the Soup of the Day now?

Waiter: The current Soup of the Day is tomato.

Patron: Fine. Bring me the tomato soup, and the check. Im running late now.

[waiter leaves and returns with another bowl of soup and the check]

Waiter: Here you are, Sir. The soup and your check.

Patron: This is potato soup.

Waiter: Yes, the tomato soup wasnt ready yet.

Patron: Well, Im so hungry now, Ill eat anything.

[waiter leaves.]

Patron: Waiter! Theres a gnat in my soup!

The check:

Soup of the Day . ……….. . . . . . . . . . $5.00

Upgrade to newer Soup of the Day. . . . . . . . $2.50

Access to support . . . . . . . . . . ……….$1.00

What do you see when the Pilsbury Doughboy bends over?







Doughnuts!

So you think you could end all unemployment, do you? asked the interviewer. And how, if I may be so bold to inquire?

Why, Id put all the men on one island and all the women on another. replied Paddy.

And what would they be doing then? Building boats!

The programmer to his son: Here, I brought you a new basketball.

Thank you, Pa, but where is the users guide and manuals?

This was part of a set of stories over in another group. This one
was rather funny… (it came from Tension City)

A friend told me the following about a conversation with her four-year old:

A TV show for children, involving dinosaurs, had a bit where the dinos were
wondering whether or not an egg would hatch, and did the dinosaur parents
want a baby or not?

Tyke: Sometimes you get babies when you dont want them.

Mom: Yes, thats true. But we really wanted you.

Tyke: [Silence for a moment.] Did Daddy have to cut you open to put his
seed in you?

(The topic having already been discussed in the past.)

Mom: [Dreading the sudden direction the conversation had taken.] No…

Tyke: Then how did he get the seed in?

Mom: Uh, he just did.

Tyke: But *how*?

Mom: Do you really want to know?

Tyke: YES!!!

Mom: [Resigned to it, now] Well, Daddy put his penis in my vagina.

Tyke: [Very wide eyes] He DID???

Mom: Yes…

Tyke: But how did he get his big huge penis into your vagina?!

Mom: [to Dad] Um, would you help me out a little bit here, dear?

Dad: [pauses, looks intently at Tyke] Honey–these are *excellent*
questions youre asking!

Tyke: How did he get it in?

Mom: Well, it just fit.

Tyke: [Digests this for a moment] So, did it feel good?

Mom: [Too amused for embarrassment by now] Yes, dear, actually it did.

Tyke: Oh.

End of discussion. Tykes interrogative style was likened to that of an
especially tenacious attorney conducting cross-examination.

The next morning Tyke was overheard intently propounding her new knowledge to
her two-year old sister.

Kids have this way of getting right to the heart of the matter, huh?

By Ogden Nash

In Baltimore there lived a boy,

He wasnt anybodys joy.

Although his name was Jabez Dawes,

His character was full of flaws.

In school he never led his classes,

He hid old ladies reading glasses,

His mouth was open when he chewed,

And elbows to the table glued.

He stole the milk of hungry kittens,

And walked through doors marked No Admittance.

He said he acted thus because

There wasnt any Santa Claus.

Another trick that tickled Jabez

Was crying Boo! at little babies.

He brushed his teeth, they said in town,

Sideways instead of up and down.

Yet people pardoned every sin,

And viewed his antics with a grin,

Till they were told by Jabez Dawes,

There isnt any Santa Claus!

Deploring how he did behave,

His parents swiftly sought their grave.

They hurried through the portals pearly,

And Jabez left the funeral early.

Like whooping cough, from child to child,

He sped to spread the rumor wild:

Sure as my name is Jabez Dawes

There isnt any Santa Claus!

Slunk like a weasel or a marten

Through nursery and kindergarten,

Whispering low to every tot,

There isnt any, no theres not!

The children wept all Christmas Eve

And Jabez chortled up his sleeve.

No infant dared to hang up his stocking

For fear of Jabez ribald mocking.

He sprawled on his untidy bed,

Fresh malice dancing in his head,

When presently with scalp a-tingling,

Jabez heard a distant jingling;

He heard the crunch of sleigh and hoof

Crisply alighting on the roof.

What good to rise and bar the door?

A shower of soot was on the floor.

What was beheld by Jabez Dawes?

The fireplace full of Santa Claus!

Then Jabez fell upon his knees

With cries of Dont, and Pretty please.

He howled, I dont know where you read it,

But anyhow, I never said it!

Jabez, replied the angry saint,

It isnt I, its you that aint.

Although there is a Santa Claus,

There isnt any Jabez Dawes!

Said Jabez with impudent vim,

Oh, yes there is; and I am him!

Your magic dont scare me, it doesnt

And suddenly he found he wasnt!

From grimy feet to grimy locks,

Jabez became a Jack-in-the-box,

An ugly toy with springs unsprung,

Forever sticking out his tongue.

The neighbors heard his mournful squeal;

They searched for him, but not with zeal.

No trace was found of Jabez Dawes,

Which led to thunderous applause,

And people drank a loving cup

And went and hung their stockings up.

All you who sneer at Santa Claus,

Beware the fate of Jabez Dawes,

The saucy boy who mocked the saint.

Donder and Blitzen licked off his paint.

A while ago, one of the songs sung by the choir in my church was named And the
Father Will Dance. When it was announced, And now the choir will sing And the
Father Will Dance, we were all extremely disappointed that he didnt get up to
dance, as was announced.

A New Yorker was forced to take a day off from work to

appear for a minor traffic summons.

He grew increasingly restless as he waited hour after endless hour for his case to be heard.

When his name was called late in the afternoon, he stood before the judge, only to hear that court would be adjourned for the rest of the afternoon and he would have to return the next day.

WHAT FOR?!?!? he snapped at the judge.

The Judge, equally irked by a tedious day and sharp query, roared out loud: Twenty dollars contempt of court! Thats why!

Then, noticing the man checking his wallet, the judge relented:

Thats all right. You dont have to pay now.

The guy replied…

I know – Im just seeing if I have enough for 2 more words!