In need of jokes
13 Aug 2004 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
karohemdHelp!
I'm in charge of the Friday joke at work and my stock is currently empty.
Anything considered, slightly rude is cool, explicit stuff or excessive swearing isn't.
Anyone?
Just post a comment,
Thanks!
I'm in charge of the Friday joke at work and my stock is currently empty.
Anything considered, slightly rude is cool, explicit stuff or excessive swearing isn't.
Anyone?
Just post a comment,
Thanks!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:11 pm (UTC)After a few minutes silence from the shocked audience, and orchestra too, he was greeted with boos and hisses. He walked from the stage, only to be met by his manager, standing in between two gorilla-sized bodyguards. "Oh no you don't", his manager said, "you're not retiring."
Forced backed to work by his manager, he endured week after week of conducting he no longer wanted to do. While lying in bed one night with his wife of many years, he turned to her and said "Dear, would you be able to get me a small hand-gun?" "Yes dear", she said, and he rolled over and went to sleep.
Sure enough, at his next performance, the conductor began with the small hand-gun concealed in the his jacket. Once the concert had finished, he turned to the audience and said "I'm announcing my retirement for the second time. This is my last performance." The tuba player stood up and shouted "You can't be serious!", and the conductor whipped out his hand-gun and shot the tuba player dead. It wasn't long before the police arrived and the conductor was taken away.
Days later, the conductor was taken to court. "How do you plead to the charge of first-degree murder?", the judge inquired. "Guilty your honor", the conductor replied. "Do you realize that the sentence for first degree murder in this state is death by electrocution?", the judge added. The conductor thought for a moment, but came to the conclusion that death would surely be better than continuing on like he was. "Yes your honor", the conductor said. While being strapped into the electric chair, one of the guards came to the conductor and said "You may have one last request before we terminate your life. What would you like?" After pondering for a few seconds, the conductor replied "A silver platter with a dozen bananas." His request was granted, and the conductor scarfed the bananas. The room was emptied, and the switch was flicked. The conductor's hair stood on end, but he survived! As one guard was about to the flick the switch again, he was stopped. "He survived the chair and the law says we have to let him go."
The conductor left the building, only to be greeted by his manager and the two gorilla-sized bodyguards. "Back to work", his manager said. More weeks of forced conducting went by. Lying in bed again one night with wife, he asked "Dear, could you get me a grenade?" "Yes dear", she replied. At his next performance, the conductor waited until the end of the concert, the grenade tucked neatly in his undies. "For the third time, I'm announcing my retirement!", he yelled. The conductor took out the grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it into the audience. The grenade exploded, killing 23 members of the crowd. The police arrived, and he was taken away again.
"You again?", the judge asked, "I thought I'd sentenced you to death not long ago?" The conductor shrugged. "OK, how do you plead to 23 counts of first degree murder?", the judge said. "Guilty to all counts", the conductor replied. While the settings were changed to triple the voltage of the current going to the chair, the conductor was granted another last request. "A silver platter with 2 dozen bananas" was his answer. He scarfed the bananas the room was evacuated and the switch was flicked. It appeared that they'd manage to kill him this time, but their fears were realized when the conductor regained consciousness as they were about to remove his body. His manager and the two gorilla-sized bodyguards were waiting for him and he left the building. "Back to work."
The weeks dragged on, and the conductor had all that he could take. "Dear, could you get me a missile launcher?", he asked his wife as they lay in bed. "Yes dear", she replied.
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:11 pm (UTC)"Jesus Christ, you again!?! You're supposed to be DEAD!", the judge roared. The conductor just shrugged. "May I ask how you plead for 190 counts of first degree murder?" "Guilty as sin!", the conductor screamed, "the ****** deserved it!" The conductor was hauled away. A public announcement was issued to all local residents warning that there would be a short cut in the power. Meanwhile, the cities' electrical engineers were busy re-routing all the electricity they could into the electric chair. Once again, the conductor was granted a last request. "Three dozen bananas on a silver platter", he said.
He scarfed the bananas, the building was completely vacated, and the electric chair was activated by remote control, some 2 kilometres away. The building exploded, reducing it to rubble. They fished through the ruins to find the conductor's ruined body. His funeral was held some days later and as the casket was being lowered into the grave there was a knock on the coffin lid. Women fainted as the conductor crawled out of coffin - alive! He was taken to a large press conference. One reporter stood up and asked "You've survived three visits to the electric chair. How did you do it?"
"I've tried telling people all along", he said,
"I'm just a bad conductor."
Ouch!
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:52 pm (UTC)There's a better version of the joke that you can tell in all seriousness about an FBI manhunt leading up to his capture... people often don't realise you're joking until the hideous pun at the end.
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:12 pm (UTC)Not actually overly rude, but quite amusing. Ish.
Nathan, The Toxic Pixie
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:10 pm (UTC)Of course, there's always Riks Lj?
Nathan, The Toxic Pixie
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 02:48 pm (UTC)"pleath mithter, but have you got any bunny wabbith?"
The man is quiote enchanted, and kneels before her so he can look her in the eye, and imitating her lips says
"Yeth, of courthe we do. We have ickle bwon bunny wabbith, ickle white bunny wabbith, or little black bunny wabbith with long earth"
the little girl considers all this seriously, cocks her head to oen side and swners
"to be honetht mithter, I don't think my python giveth a thit"
*giggles*
Date: 13/8/04 02:55 pm (UTC)Re: *giggles*
Date: 13/8/04 04:15 pm (UTC)Probably not suitable for work
Date: 13/8/04 02:50 pm (UTC)Marie leans over to Pierre and says, "Pierre, kiss me!" Pierre grabs a bottle of Merlot and splashes it on Marie's lips.
"What are you doing, Pierre?" says the startled Marie.
"I am Pierre, the fighter pilot! When I have red meat, I have red wine!"
She smiles and they start kissing. Things began to heat up a little and Marie says, "Pierre, kiss me lower." Our hero tears her blouse open, grabs a bottle of Chardonnay and pours it on her breasts.
"Pierre!! What are you doing now?" asks the bewildered Marie.
"I am Pierre, the fighter pilot! When I have white meat, I have white wine!"
She giggles and they resume their passionate interlude, and things really steam up. Marie leans close to his ear and whispers, "Pierre, kiss me much lower!"
Pierre rips off her underwear, grabs a bottle of Cognac and pours it in her lap. He then strikes a match and lights the cognac on fire. Marie shrieks and dives into the River Seine.
Standing waist deep, Marie throws her arms into the air and screams furiously, "PIERRE, WHAT THE F**K DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
Our 'hero' stands and says defiantly,
"I am Pierre, the fighter pilot! If I go down, I go down in flames!"
Re: Probably not suitable for work
Date: 13/8/04 02:56 pm (UTC)A taxi passenger tapped the driver on the shoulder to ask him something.
The driver screamed, lost control of the car, nearly hit a bus, went up on the footpath, and stopped centimetres from a shop window.
For a second everything went quiet in the cab, then the driver said "Look mate, don't ever do that again. You scared the daylights out of me!"
The passenger apologized and said he didn't realize that a little tap could scare him so much.
The driver replied "Sorry, it's not really your fault.
Today is my first day as a cab driver - I've been driving hearses for the last 25 years !!!!".
Re: Probably not suitable for work
Date: 13/8/04 03:10 pm (UTC)Nathan, The Toxic Pixie
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:20 pm (UTC)-------
An unpolished looking gentleman walks into a fancy French restaurant.
The maitre d', wanting to get rid of a potential troublemaker says,
"Sir, you can't come in here without a tie."
The guy argues, but the maitre d' is firm.
So the guy goes out to his car, can't find a tie, but locates a pair of jumper cables in the trunk. He wraps them around his neck and walks back into the restaurant.
The maitre d' looks at him and reluctantly says, "OK, you can come in, but don't start anything."
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:20 pm (UTC)--------------
A priest is walking down the street one day when he notices a small boy trying to press a doorbell on a house across the street. However, the doorbell is just out of his reach.
After watching the boy's efforts for some time, the priest moves closer to the boy's position. He steps smartly across the street, walks up behind the little fellow and, placing his hand kindly on the child's shoulder, leans over and gives the doorbell a ring.
Crouching down to the child's level, the priest smiles benevolently and asks, "And now what, my little man?"
To which the boy turns and yells, "NOW WE RUN!"
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:22 pm (UTC)--------
At New York's Kennedy airport today, an individual later discovered to be a public school teacher was arrested trying to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule, and a calculator.
At a morning press conference, Attorney General John Ashcroft said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-Gebra movement. He is being charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction.
"Al-Gebra is a fearsome cult," Ashcroft said. "They desire average solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in a search of absolute value. They use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with co-ordinates in every country. As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'there are 3 sides to every triangle'."
When asked to comment on the arrest, Tony Blair said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes."
And Finally
Date: 13/8/04 03:30 pm (UTC)Okay, by now we all know the things not to do if we ever become the Evil Overlord. But what about the other side? Those who venture to overthrow the Evil Overlord a/so appear to be in need of some sensible advice...
by Walt Freitag
I will not enter the Evil Overlord's stronghold disguised as a guard or henchman, unless I "intend" to be discovered and captured at the worst possible time.
If I absolutely must disguise myself as one of the Evil Overlord's guards or henchmen, I will not dispose of the real guard or henchman by knocking him unconscious and tying him to a towel rack - I will kill him.
When my intrepid party reaches the scenic over-look point where the vast array of the enemy's evil yet fascinating military-industrial facilities is spread out in an awesome tableau below us, we will not all crouch down and stare at it. We'll assume that the enemy's border guards also enjoy the view from that vantage point, and get our buns out of there pronto.
Things I'll never say:
"Nothing can go wrong now."
"What else could possibly go wrong?"
"Things couldn't possibly get any worse."
"Come on, guys, we're home free!"
"Of course it's a trap, hut what choice have we got?"
"Scooby, stop sniffing around that peculiar stone idol and help us find a way out of here."
I will not trust the closest friend and comrade-in-arms of my heroically deceased father.
I will not trust my heroically deceased father. The chances of his being really heroic 'and' really deceased 'and' really my father are remote.
Letting the Evil Overlord fall to his death would not make me just as evil as he is.
Before embarking on the quest, I will suggest to the Council of Ancient and All-knowing Yet Oddly Powerless Beings that instead of hiking hundreds of leagues on foot into the Dark Land and being airlifted out by the Great Wind Lords, we do it the other way around.
As soon as the Evil Overlord's threat becomes apparent I will hunt down and kill the bully who tormented me as a child, before he has a chance to either (a) become the Evil Overlord's trusted lieutenant or (b) gain my trust, join my cause, and then betray me.
I will not make wisecracks to my torturers. They're just trying to do their job, and I'm secure enough in my heroism not to have to prove it by withstanding the extra-severe torture they reserve for those who piss them off.
If any of my compatriots begins to tell me about his loved ones back home, or his plans for an idyllic future career, I will slap him until he shuts up. This may not save his life, but what kind of hero would I be if I didn't at least try?
If the evil minions are attempting to kidnap my girlfriend, I will not send her into hiding with her kindly old grandfather in his remote mountain cabin. I'll send her into hiding in an apartment in Brooklyn.
If my dead mentor appears as a glowing apparition and tells me what to do, I won't argue with him.
If my sidekick, who I last saw being dragged away by Legions of Terror, rejoins me unexpectedly, seem-ing perfectly unscathed except for a slight halt in his speech and a glassy-eyed look, I will not congratulate him on his lucky escape. I will lie about which direction I intend to proceed, then tell him to stay here and cut off pursuit.
After escaping in any vehicle that's been parked in the Evil Overlord's territory for more than ten minutes, I will not proceed to my allies' secret sanctuary until I've changed vehicles, or found and disabled the homing device.
After obtaining a glowing jewelled rune-inscribed dagger from an ancient tomb that the ghost of the greatest wizard of the previous age led me to in a vision, I will not wait until all my other weapons have failed, and half my colleagues have been devoured, before trying it out against the fearsome monster's seemingly-invulnerable hide.
And finally part 2
Date: 13/8/04 03:31 pm (UTC)Should I succeed in my quest, I will not agree to become High King over any kingdom rude enough to throw me a surprise coronation.
Should I succeed in my quest, I will not jeopardize my newly established heroic image. I will not engage in celebratory sex with the heroine without first making sure we are not under surveillance. Also, my comrades and I will not, under any circumstances whatsoever, pose in a row and applaud ourselves.
When the Evil Overlord says, "Surely you don't want to be responsible for any more innocent lives?" I will not reluctantly drop the Sword Of Fate to the floor. Instead, I will point out that I'm not the one slowly lowering the adorable elf child into the pit of boiling lava, he is. If he presses the issue, I'll further assert that he was lowering elf children into boiling lava long before I arrived and, should my quest to destroy him fail, would continue doing so long after I'm gone, so I'd rather keep the Sword Of Fate for myself, thank you very much.
Comical yet sinister, pathetic yet greedy, cowardly yet cunning individuals will not be permitted to join or assist the quest. Although they always redeem themselves in the end, their acts of redemption are rarely worth the three or four betrayals they require to work themselves up to it,
If my girlfriend is in clear imminent danger of becoming the next designated Sacrificial Virgin, I'd at least suggest the obvious solution, even if it gets me slapped.
I will consider darkness, mist, dense forest, eerie rock formations, labyrinthine corridors, and subtle signs of stealthy pursuit by unseen foes to be good reason to avoid splitting my questing party up, rather than as golden opportunities to do so.
If my most powerful weapons operate only when I'm in a particularly confident self-assured frame of mind, then before venturing one step into the Evil Overlord's Domain, I will see a competent psychiatrist to resolve any feelings of guilt, self-doubt, inadequacy, traumatic stress, or other miscellaneous angst I might be afflicted with. If that's not feasible, I will pop Prozac like it was candy.
Obtaining vital information by torturing the Evil Overlord's captured henchman would not make me just as evil as he is.
I will maintain a realistic idea of the capabilities of each member of my quest. Individuals whose main benefit to the effort is comic relief will not be assigned to guard objects whose loss or theft could mean the end of the world. On the other hand, individuals with tactically invaluable skills, such as the ability to sense the approach of enemies or override the automatic systems of an enemy installation, will not be treated as comic relief no matter how cute they are.
When I trick the bumbling henchmen into stealing the box that once contained the Artefact of Power after I've removed the artefact from it, I will not put a cute little note reading "Fooled ya!" inside. This is rude. A kilo of C-4 and a detonator is more appropriate to the occasion.
Unless my name is Jackie Chan, after disabling three attackers, one wielding a pistol, one a machine gun, and one a stick, I will not pick up the stick.
Should my strategic brilliance impress the Evil Overlord to the point where he offers to make me his commander-in-chief and heir if I will but join his cause, I will agree immediately. Neither of us may be sincere, but it's easier to get to the self-destruct button from the Command Center than from the Execution Chamber.
If I succeed in reaching my girlfriend during a rescue mission deep in the Evil Overlord's stronghold, we will not linger to kiss, sob in relief or quiz one another about how we got there or why we're wearing such strange clothing. We will depart immediately.
If the Evil Overlord's beautiful but evil consort or daughter attempts to seduce me in the dungeon or torture chamber, I will not respond by informing her what sort of unpleasant animal I'd rather touch than her. My mission is too important to waste such a valuable tactical opportunity on petty self-indulgence.
no subject
Date: 13/8/04 03:36 pm (UTC)The florist's son handed her a gift. She shook it, held it overhead, and said, "I bet I know what it is. Some flowers." "That's right" the boy said, "but how did you know?" "Oh, just a wild guess," she said.
The next pupil was the sweet shop owner's daughter. The teacher held her gift overhead, shook it, and said, "I bet I can guess what it is. A box of sweets." "That's right, but how did you know?" asked the girl. "Oh, just a wild guess," said the teacher.
The next gift was from the son of the owner of the off-license. The teacher held the package overhead, but it was leaking. She touched a drop of the leakage with her finger and touched it to her tongue. "Is it wine?" she asked. "No," the boy replied, with some excitement. The teacher repeated the process, taking a larger drop of the leakage to her tongue. "Is it champagne?" she asked. "No," the boy replied, with more excitement. The teacher took one more taste before declaring, "I give up, what is it?" With great glee, the boy replied,
"It's a puppy!"