2500 Jokes to Start 'Em Laughing (6 page)

Never buy a cheap car. Yesterday a pigeon flew over mine. Cost me seventy-five dollars to get out the dent.

The salesman said, “Now we have this model in eggshell.” I said, “I know about the fenders. Tell me about the color.”

The workmanship really isn't in cars these days. I just saw a bumper marked
FRAGILE
!

Detroit has come up with a bumper that can absorb an impact at
five miles an hour. That takes care of nearsighted joggers—now what about cars?

Isn't that a wonderful concept—a five-mile-an-hour bumper? Sounds like an elderly stripper.

I love the way they give you a warranty on a new car for twelve months. The only thing I've ever had on a car that lasted for twelve months is aggravation.

Have you noticed how the new cars all seem to have two things that are factory-installed? Air conditioning and defects.

There's one thing I can never understand about the new cars. Why do they make them so low to the ground? Yesterday I stuck out my hand to make a left turn and I'll never forget it. Neither will that cop tying his shoelace!

My car was formerly owned by a little old lady from Pasadena. I think it was this car that aged her.

The nice part about buying a used car is, you don't have to worry about changing the oil every two thousand miles—because there's never any left!

I won't say how far the mileage has been turned back, but the speedometer is in Roman numerals.

The salesman said this car has a lot of interesting little touches. I think the proper word is “dents.”

Chess is a game that requires intense concentration and absolute silence. During one game, a player sneezed and his opponent said, “Gesundheit.” The first player said, “Did you come here to play or talk?”

It doesn't make sense, like a chess team with a cheerleader.

Chess is a game in which people sit for hours, staring ahead, not moving a muscle. We have the same thing in Washington. It's called Civil Service.

My daughter is interested in chess. Last night I heard her saying to her boyfriend, “When are you going to make your move?” I
hope
she's interested in chess.

My wife's hairdresser hates chess. He won't have anything to do with a game where a queen is expendable.

Fortunately, I have rather tolerant kids. They just look on me as the square in the family circle.

If you're a parent, you know that 1959 was a great year for wine, not kids.

Tonight I'd like to say a kind word about kids. Do you realize, if you have kids, you don't have to hold up a seashell to hear a roar?

Raising kids is like eating grapefruit. No matter how you do it, the little squirts get to you.

Some parents get so upset with their kids, they kick the bucket. That's where they make a big mistake. Leave the bucket alone. Kick the kids!

Let your kids know that you think about them occasionally. Grit your teeth!

I feel sorry for people who don't have kids. I really do. Whenever there's a discussion about Excedrin headaches, they just stand there like dum-dums!

It's a little frustrating to hear a kid who's already cost you $22,000 say his prayers—and you get mentioned ahead of the goldfish but after the gerbil.

I know this sounds kinda sentimental, but every night after dinner, I spend what I call the Children's Hour. I wait for them to get off the phone.

What my kids don't know about thrift would fill a bankbook.

My kids have lost so many teeth, we have the only budget in town where the tooth fairy comes after rent!

Every time I see the Statue of Liberty, I think of my kids. She has a book in her hand but I've never seen it open.

Years ago kids lived a hand-to-mouth existence.

Every time they opened their mouth, they got a hand right across it.

My mother raised us tennis style.

You've never seen such a backhand!

Five-year-olds really know how to live.

They eat, drink, and make messy!

I guess I shouldn't complain. I know a couple who have five kids, two dogs, and a cat. Last year their house was vandalized three times before they discovered it.

Kids are so deflatable. One little kid came up to me and said, “I'm the greatest counter on the block. I'm the greatest counter in the city. I'm the greatest counter in the world! 1—2—3.” I said, “Go on.” He said, “There's more?”

Have you noticed how many kids are allergic to sheets? The minute they have to slide between them, they break out in tantrums!

We have a problem with our kids. They get ten hours of sleep a day. At night, nothing!

This kid's eyes are so red, maybe you saw him.

Last year he was poster boy for Murine!

We're getting desperate. You know what we gave him for dinner last night? French-fried Sominex!

Do you know there are now 950 million Chinese? It's incredible. Doesn't anybody ever have a headache?

Personally, I don't trust China. Any country that has 950 million
people and claims table tennis is their favorite indoor sport—will lie about other things too.

Chinese and Americans have a lot in common. For instance, the Chinese read from right to left. So do Americans, looking at menus.

No wonder the Chinese don't get along with the Russians.

You ever try to eat borscht with chopsticks?

I don't want to brag but my wife happens to be a China watcher. Every time I dry the dishes.

Christmas has a wonderful message. It's better to give than to receive. Internal Revenue has that same message.

I'm really worried about the commercialization of Christmas. Nowadays the only time you hear someone mention God is when they stick their finger in a Christmas light socket.

Lincoln said you can't fool all of the people all the time. Lincoln never read the instructions for assembling Christmas toys!

The government is getting after firms that make dangerous toys. You'd be surprised how many toys have things on them that can hurt you—like the price tag.

The most unbelievable thing about Christmas is that poem about children hanging their stockings by the chimney with care. We live in an apartment—no chimney. Nowadays who owns stockings, and when have you ever heard of a kid hanging something up?

We have two kids and they're always arguing. Like last Christmas one of them wanted a cat and the other wanted a dog. So we compromised. We got a cat and taught it how to bark.

It's all in the way you look at it. To us he's Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer. To Dancer, Prancer, Donder, and Blitzen—he's a wino!

You know what shakes me? Those fruit cakes made with brandy, rum, and whiskey! How do you come in at three o'clock in the morning and tell your wife you've had one slice too many?

I know a fella who came home from the Christmas office party and he's in terrible trouble. His wife found lipstick on his collar … bone.

A truly religious person is someone who can find a spiritual message in a trombone solo of “Silent Night.”

On the eighty-third day after Christmas my true love sent to me—bills!

Every time I go Christmas shopping, I know three things are going to give out on me—money, patience, and feet!

If you're working on your Christmas shopping list, for the millionaire who has everything: a sauna that's air-conditioned!

For janitors, doormen, and elevator operators, this is a tiptop time of the year. If you don't tip, they blow their top.

I got the perfect Christmas present for my doctor.

A nurse who knows how to caddy!

Happiness is that brief glorious moment between the time your wife says she's going to get you a hookah for Christmas—and when you realize that's a Turkish pipe.

My wife always gives me strange things for Christmas—like a bath towel that says
DRY-CLEAN ONLY.

Guess what I got for my wife? Perfume! But never again. I went up to the salesgirl and I said, “What kind of perfume do you have?” She said, “We have
FINE AT NINE—GREAT AT EIGHT
—and
HEAVEN AT SEVEN.
” I said, “
HEAVEN AT SEVEN
? Lady, we've been married for twenty-six years.” She said, “How about
NIX AT SIX
?”

You know the easiest way to avoid arguments with your wife at Christmastime? Promise her anything—and give it to her!

And with all these fancy bottles they're putting liquor in, you really have to be careful. Like yesterday I poured myself an Arpège and soda!

All I want for Christmas is for my kids to hang up three things—stockings, mistletoe, and the phone!

Every Christmas we get a visit from the jolly gent with the great big bag over his shoulder. It's my son home from college and the great big bag is laundry.

I think we should be very grateful to Santa Claus. He's the only one who comes from overseas and gives instead of takes.

Santa Claus and Uncle Sam have a lot in common. They both leave goodies all over the world and wind up holding the bag.

If you look at the labels on toys this year, you realize Santa Claus is no longer at the North Pole. He's in Hong Kong!

We know an old maid who still believes in Santa Claus—and anything else that lets her climb onto a man's lap.

Fathers rise to great heights during the Christmas season. A father and his little daughter were standing in front of a department-store Santa Claus and he was saying, “Yes, Virginia, this is Santa Claus—and that was Santa Claus in Macy's, and that was Santa Claus in Gimbel's, and that was Santa Claus on the street corner.” His daughter said, “How can there be so many Santa Clauses?” He turned to the fella in the big red suit and said, “Santa, tell Virginia how you fell into the Xerox machine!”

Christmas in California is fascinating. Where else can you hear a department-store Santa Claus saying, “Don't sit on my knee. It's sunburned!”

My brother-in-law is a street-corner Santa Claus. He isn't too bright but they did give him a sheet of instructions. In fact, this morning I was watching him work. He went: “Ho! Ho!” [
LOOK DOWN AS IF READING INSTRUCTIONS
] “Ho!”

Did you hear about the department-store Santa Claus who suffers from water on the knee—sometimes six or seven times a day?

This is the time of year when all parents tell their kids they'd better
be good or Santa Claus won't stop at their house. It's called a Christmas club.

My wife is very good about Christmas. A department-store Santa Claus asked me what I wanted. I said, “A twenty-one-year-old blond sexpot.” And my wife said I'm gonna get it!

I passed one of those lots that sell Christmas trees. You know the kind. They're dedicated to the proposition that only God can make a tree and only man can make a buck!

Wait'll you see what they're getting for Christmas trees this year. For the first time in history, you're giving them more green than they're giving you!

You should have seen the tree we wound up with. We paid twelve dollars for a tree that's so small, I think it was planted in Israel—by Arabs!

This tree was so puny, three passersby sneered at it—and two of them were dogs!

I always feel guilty about an aluminum Christmas tree until I hear a fire truck go by.

Volunteer work is when you have to explain to your kids that Daddy hasn't died. He just became president of his church.

As the head of any church board of trustees will tell you, after all is said and done, there's a lot more said than done.

You hear some fascinating conversations on Sunday mornings. For instance: “I didn't say he was cheap. I just said he was late for church because he had to change something.” “A tire?” “No. A dollar bill.”

I'm always suspicious of any church that tells you the end is near—and then asks you to sign a three-year Building Fund pledge.

You can always tell a church that isn't doing well.

The Cadillac they raffle off is used.

I go to a Congregational church that's so democratic, last week the minister said, “O Lord, we ask Thy forgiveness—48 to 33 with 12 abstentions!”

One church is so progressive, it's doing a modernized version of the Christmas story. The three Wise Men are bringing gift certificates!

I could tell it was a progressive church when we all stood up to sing the first hymn—“Fine and Dandy.”

But you haven't lived until you've gone to church in Detroit. Where else can you find bucket pews?

The minister asked me, “Are you a soldier in the Army of the Lord?” I said, “Yes I am.” He said, “Then why do we only see you at Christmas and Easter?” I said, “I'm in the Secret Service.”

What a wonderful motto for a German fundamentalist church:
YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT
!

Nowadays when you live in the heart of the city, you start thinking about a transplant.

I come from a town where the city officials are so crooked, the Mafia is the reform group!

I think this city has finally achieved the goal of a classless society. I've never seen so many people with no class!

This city is really desperate for money. I just saw a coin-operated fire alarm.

It costs you about the same to live in cities as it does in the suburbs. What you save on carfare you spend on locks.

I had a terrible thing happen to me yesterday. Opportunity knocked on my door—and by the time I unhooked the chain, pushed back the bolt, turned the two locks, and shut off the burglar alarm—it was gone!

This is the only city I know where you figure muggings into your budget!

In this city you don't walk for your health—you run!

There was a riot this morning at the city jail. The prisoners said the food was terrible. Then they broke down the door—with a sausage.