Monthly Archives: September 2017

An Italian grandmother was giving directions over the phone to her grandson who was coming to visit.

“First you come to the front door of the apartments. I’m in apartment 301. There is a big panel at the front door. With your elbow, you push the number 301. I will buzz you in. Come inside, the elevator is on the right. Get in and with your elbow push the number 3. When you get out, turn left. With your elbow, ring my doorbell.”

“Grandma, that sounds easy,” said the grandson, “but why am I hitting all these buttons with my elbow?”

“What?!” exclaimed the grandma. “You weren’t thinking about coming here empty handed were you?”

There was a monastery in Europe perched high on a cliff several hundred feet in the air.

The only way to reach the monastery was to be suspended in a basket which was pulled to the top by several old monks who pulled and tugged with all their strength.

Obviously the ride up the steep cliff in that basket was terrifying. One tourist got exceedingly nervous about half-way up as he noticed that the rope by which he was suspended was old and frayed.

With a trembling voice he asked the monk who was riding with him in the basket how often they changed the rope.

The monk thought for a moment and answered brusquely, “Whenever it breaks.”

Two great white sharks swimming in the ocean spotted survivors of a ship that had just sunk.

“Follow me son” the older father shark said to the son shark and they swam to the mass of people.

“First we swim around them a few times with just the tip of our fins showing.” And they did.

“Well done, son! Now we swim around them a few times with all of our fins showing.” And they did.

“Now we eat everybody.” And they did.

When they were both gorged, the son asked, “Dad, why didn’t we just eat them all at first? Why did we swim around and around them?”

His wise old father replied, “Because they taste better without the shit inside!”

A fellow is talking to his Irish buddy and says, “I gotta stop drinking that Irish whiskey”

“How come?” asked his friend.

“Because every Saturday night I go out and drink a fifth of the stuff, come home, make mad passionate love to the wife, wake up Sunday morning, and go to mass.”

“What’s wrong with that?” the Irishman asks. “A lot of good Irishman go out on Saturday night, drink a fifth of good Irish whiskey, come home, do the wife, and go to mass on Sunday.”

“I know,” said his friend, “but I’m Jewish.”

Little Johnny was wandering up and down the aisles of a supermarket while crying his eyes out.

“What’s the matter fella?” asked a stock boy.

“I’ve lost my mommy!” wailed Little Johnny.

“Don’t worry, we’ll soon find her,” soothed the stock boy.

“Now tell me, what’s mommy like?”

“Bourbon and men with big dicks,” sobbed Little Johnny

The husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several months, yet his wife stayed by his bedside every single day. One day, when he came to, he motioned for her to come nearer.

As she sat by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, “You know, you have been with me all through the bad times. When I got fired, you were there to support me. When my business failed, you were there. When I got shot, you were by my side. When we lost the house, you stayed with me. When my health started failing, you were still by my side. I just wanted to tell you…”

“What dear?” She gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.

“I think you’re bad luck.”

A man entered a restaurant and sat at the only open table. As he sat down, he knocked the spoon off the table with his elbow. A nearby waiter reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a clean spoon, and set it on the table. The diner was impressed. “Do all the waiters here carry spoons in their pockets?”

The waiter replied, “Yes. Ever since an efficiency expert visited our restaurant. He determined that 17.8% of our diners knock the spoon off the table. By carrying clean spoons with us, we save trips to the kitchen.”

The diner ate his meal. As he was paying the waiter, he commented, “Forgive the intrusion, but do you know that you have a string hanging from your fly?”

The waiter replied, “Yes, we all do. Seems that the same efficiency expert determined that we spend to much time washing our hands after using the men’s room. So, the other end of that string is tied to my penis. When I need to go, I simply pull the string, do my thing, and then return to work. Having never touched myself, there really is no need to wash my hands. Saves a lot of time.”

“Wait a minute,” said the diner, “how do you get your penis back in your pants?”

“Well, I don’t know about the other guys, but I use the spoon.”