The New York City Bartender's Joke Book (40 page)

BOOK: The New York City Bartender's Joke Book
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What’s the difference between a Porsche

and a soprano?

Not too many musicians have been

in a Porsche.

A man is complaining to a friend: “I had it all—money, a beautiful house, a nice car, a great motorcycle, the love of a beautiful
woman. Then it was all gone!”

“What happened?” asks the friend.

“My wife found out!” says the man.

How many chiropractors does it take

to screw in a lightbulb?

One, but you have to make five visits.

Scientists revealed that beer contains small traces of female hormones. To prove their theory, they fed 100 men 12 pints
of beer and observed that 100 percent of them gained weight, talked incessantly without making sense, and couldn’t drive.

No further testing is planned.

Two Italians, Pietro and Marchello, are talking. Pietro says to Marchello, “Marchello, do you like women with tiny mustaches
and moles on their cheeks with hair coming out?”

Marchello says, “No, Pietro, I don’t like women like that.”

“Marchello,” says Pietro, “do you like women with hairy underarms and hairy legs?”

“No, Pietro,” says Marchello, “I don’t like women like that at all!”

“Marchello,” says Pietro, “do you like women with saggy tits and fat asses?”

“No, Pietro,” says Marchello, “I don’t like women like that!”

“Then Marchello,” says Pietro, “why are you fucking my wife?”

Two Russians are standing in a very long line waiting to buy some vodka. The line is so long that one Russian says to the other,
“I can’t stand this anymore! Always waiting in line to buy anything! I’m going to shoot the Minister of Commerce!” He leaves
the line and storms out.

Hours later, the other Russian finally buys his vodka and starts to walk out. As he is walking past the very long line, he
sees his friend standing at the end of the line. “Hey,” he says to his friend, “I thought you were going to shoot the
Commerce Minister.”

“I was,” says his friend, “but the line is too long!”

The phone rings in Saddam Hussein’s office. “Hello?” says Saddam.

“Hello, Saddam?” says the caller. “This is Paddy up in County Cork, Ireland. I’m ringing to inform you that we are officially
declaring war on you!”

“Well, Paddy,” says Saddam, “how big is your army?”

“At this moment in time,” says Paddy, “there is myself, my cousin Sean, my next-door neighbor Gerry, and the entire dart team
from the pub. That makes eight!”

“I must tell you Paddy,” says Saddam, “I have one million men in my army waiting to move on my command.”

“Begorra!” says Paddy, “I’ll have to ring you back!”

The next day, Paddy calls Hussein. “Saddam, the war is still on! We have managed to acquire some equipment!”

“What equipment would that be, Paddy?” asks Saddam.

“Well, we have two International Harvester combines, a bulldozer, and Murphy’s tractor from the farm!” says Paddy.

“I must tell you, Paddy,” says Saddam, “that I have 16, 000 tanks, 14, 000 armored personnel carriers, and my army has increased
to one and a half million since we last spoke.”

“Really?” says Paddy. “I’ll have to ring you back!”

The next day, Paddy calls Hussein. “Saddam,” says Paddy, “the war is still on! We have managed to get ourselves airborne! We’ve
modified Ted’s ultra-light with a couple of rifles in the cockpit, and the dominoes team has joined us as well!”

“I must tell you, Paddy,” says Saddam, “that I have 1, 000 bombers, 500 MiG-19 attack jets, my military complex is surrounded
by laser-guided surface-to-air missile sites, and since we last spoke, my army has increased to two million.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” says Paddy. “I’ll have to ring you back!”

Paddy calls again the next day. “Mr. Hussein,” he says, “I am sorry to tell you that we have to call off the war.”

Saddam Hussein says, “It is I who am sorry that you called off the war. But tell me, Paddy, why are you calling it off?”

“Well,” says Paddy, “we’ve had a chat and there’s no way we can feed two million prisoners!”

Margaret is concerned that Paddy drinks too much. She decides the only way to stop him from drinking is to scare the shit
out of him. One night while Paddy is at the pub, Margaret rummages through the closet and finds an old Halloween costume
of the devil. She puts on the cap and the mask with the horns and goes out to the graveyard
that separates their house and the pub and hides behind a gravestone to wait for Paddy.

Sure enough, like clockwork, Paddy stumbles out of the pub as it closes and takes the path through the graveyard to his house. Halfway
down the path, Margaret jumps out from behind a grave-stone, dressed in the devil’s costume, and says menacingly, “I’M THE DEVIL!”

Without batting an eyelash, Paddy says, “Well, it’s nice to meet you. You know I married your sister?”

You know you’re too drunk when the back of your head keeps getting hit by the toilet seat.

Well, here it is, the very first long joke I ever told.

A Kentucky colonel and the devil had an argument. The devil said that no one had a perfect memory, while the colonel claimed
that there was an Indian on his plantation who never forgot anything. The colonel agreed to give up his soul to the devil
if the Indian ever did forget anything.

BOOK: The New York City Bartender's Joke Book
2.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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