The New York City Bartender's Joke Book (2 page)

BOOK: The New York City Bartender's Joke Book
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Thank you all!

What’s the difference between God

and a bartender?

God never wanted to be a bartender.

A
NTHONY
,
A BARTENDER

Introduction

B
ob Hope once said that there are only four jokes, but I don’t know what they are. I do know that every joke ends up being
someone’s misfortune, but we laugh anyway. The proverbial banana peel.

The dictionary says that a joke is an amusing story, especially one with a punch line. Someone is usually a punch line. Someone’s
misfortune. Someone always gets it in the end. One man’s adversity is another man’s joke. And we laugh.

How old are jokes, anyway? Well, since time began, probably. Adam might have had a joke or two, then Eve came along and she
certainly had some jokes for, or about, Adam. Maybe that’s where all the “size” jokes started.

Since I can remember, there have been “God” jokes, “God and Moses” jokes, “Jesus” jokes, “Jesus and Moses” jokes, and so on.
Were Jesus and his
disciples telling jokes at the Last Supper? “Hey Jesus, did you hear the one about….” says Paul.

Were the Egyptians telling jokes as they wrapped King Tut? The Jews had to be telling jokes as they wandered around the desert
for forty years. What else did they have to talk about? “Hey Irving, did you see that interesting rock about five miles back?”

The first recollection of humor, I suppose, was during medieval times. The court jester. He was there to entertain, to make
the king laugh, probably to save his own neck.

And all this evolved to burlesque, to Vaudeville, to Bob Hope et al.—and those four jokes.

I found out at a young age that jokes were the “great equalizer.” I’ve avoided a lot of fights by telling jokes. I felt like
the court jester, saving my own neck and my nose.

One summer a few years ago, as I was wandering around the desert called Connecticut, on my way to Massachusetts, the Promised
Land (because my parents promised me I could swim in their pool!), I had an idea. How many jokes do I know? As I lounged around
the pool, steno pad and pen in hand, with Mom waiting on me hand and foot and Dad wondering when I was going back to New York, I
wrote down, off the top of my head, mostly punch lines, close to a hundred jokes. That’s when I started “collecting.” I would
ask anyone I met for a joke, usually getting “I heard a great one yesterday but I can’t remember it” in reply. So, instead
of
asking for jokes, I would tell a few, like I always do anyway, and that usually started the ball rolling A joke begets a joke
begets a joke.

Now I have a major collection for you to enjoy. Thrill your neighbors, impress your friends, and remember the lecture-circuit
credo: “Always open with a joke.”

A
n old man walks into a bar, sits down, and starts crying. The bartender asks, “What’s wrong?”

The old man looks at the bartender through teary eyes and between sobs says, “I married a beautiful woman two days ago. She’s
a natural blonde, twenty-five, intelligent, a marvelous cook, a meticulous housekeeper, extremely sensitive to my wants and needs,
very giving, my best friend, and intensely passionate in bed.”

The bartender stares at the old man for a brief moment and says, “But that sounds great! You have what every man wants in a
woman, so why are you crying?”

The old man looks at the bartender and says, “
I can’t remember where I live
!”

What’s the best thing about having

Alzheimer’s disease?

You get to hide your own Easter eggs.

Two Irish guys are in a New York City bar. They are the only customers. The first Irish guy asks the second Irish guy, “How
long have you been in the city?”

The second Irish guy says, “One year.”

The first guy says, “One year?! I’ve been in the city for a year as well. Let’s toast to being in the city for a year!” They
both down a shot of Irish whiskey.

The first guy asks, “What part of Ireland are you from?”

The second guy says, “I’m from County Cork.” The first guy says, “I’m from County Cork as well! Let’s drink to Cork!” They both
down another shot.

The first guy asks, “What town in Cork are you from?”

The second guy says, “I grew up in the town of Kinsale.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!!” the first guy exclaims. “I grew up in Kinsale as well! Let’s drink to Kinsale!” They both
down another shot.

The first guy asks, “On what street did you live?”

The second guy says, “I lived on Carney Street.”

“I can’t fuckin’ believe it!” the first guy says. “I lived on Carney Street as well! Let’s drink to Carney Street!” They both
down yet another shot.

All of a sudden the telephone rings and the bartender answers it. “Oh, hello, Boss. No, it’s pretty quiet, except the O’Brian
twins are here, drunk again.”

An old man and an old woman have been married for over fifty years. Their children are grown and spread out across the country
with families of their own. The old man and old woman are sitting in rocking chairs on their porch watching the sunset as they
have done for the past twenty-five years.

All of a sudden, the old woman stands up and backhands the old man. He falls off the rocking chair, gets up, straightens his
hair, puts his glasses back on and asks, “What the hell was that for?”

The old woman looks at him and says, “That’s for fifty years of lousy sex!”

The old man says, “Oh,” and sits back down in his rocker.

Less than a minute later the old man stands up and backhands the old woman. She falls out of her rocker, rolls across the porch, and
stops at the railing. She gets up, pulls her dress down, makes sure
her teeth are secure and asks, “What the hell was that for?”

The old man points his finger at her and says, “That’s for knowing the difference!”

Why don’t women fart as much as men?

They can’t keep their mouths shut long enough

to build up the pressure.

After a few drinks a man wanders out of a pub in Belfast and walks up a deserted alley. All of a sudden a man with a gun steps
out of a doorway and asks him, “Are you Catholic or Protestant?”

The man thinks to himself, “If I tell him I’m Catholic and he’s Protestant, I’m a dead man. But if I say I’m Protestant and
he’s Catholic, he’ll shoot me for sure.” So he quickly says, “I’m Jewish!”

The man with the gun says, “Well, I must be the luckiest Palestinian in all of Ireland!”

How do you clear out an Iraqi bingo game?

Yell “B-52
!

An old woman is wheeling around the nursing home in her wheelchair. She rolls up to an old man sitting in his own wheelchair,
taps him on his arm, and says, “I bet I can guess how old you are.”

“No you can’t,” the old man responds.

“I bet I can guess how old you are.”

“No you can’t, leave me alone.”

“I bet I can guess how old you are.”

“No you can’t, go away.”

“I bet I can guess how old you are.”


All right, all right
!” the old man says, exasperated. “Go ahead, guess how old I am!”

She reaches over and unzips his fly, puts her hand in his pants and jiggles his balls around for a minute, then takes her
hand out and says, “You’re eighty-seven years old.”

BOOK: The New York City Bartender's Joke Book
4.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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