That's Jokes
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"Hello?" the child says on the phone. "Hi, honey, this is Daddy. Is Mommy near the phone?" "No, Daddy," says the litter girl. "She's upstairs in the bedroom with Uncle Paul."
After a brief pause, Daddy says, "But honey, you haven't got an Uncle Paul." "Oh, yes I do, and he's upstairs in the room with Mommy, right now." Dad takes a deep breath. "Okay then, this is what I want you to do. Put the phone down, run upstairs, knock on the bedroom door and shout to Mommy that Daddy's car just pulled into the driveway."
"Okay, Daddy, just a minute," says the little girl. A few minutes later, the little girl comes back to the phone. "I did it, Daddy." "What happened, honey?" he asks.
"Well, Mommy got all scared, jumped out of bed with no clothes on and ran around screaming. Then she tripped over the rug, hit her head on the dresser and now she isn't moving at all." "Oh, my God! What about your Uncle Paul?" asks Dad in a panic.
"He jumped out of the bed with no clothes on, too. He was all scared and he jumped out of the back window and into the swimming pool. But I guess he didn't know that you took out all the water last week to clean the pool. He hit the bottom of the pool and I think he's dead."
There's a long pause on the phone. Then Daddy says, "Swimming pool? Is this 486-5731?"
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A lady, let's call her Susan, is walking past a pet shop when she spies a beautiful parrot in the window. Susan goes in to enquire.
"That parrot is beautiful" she says to the shop keeper, admiring its magnificent plumage, which seems iridescent in the late afternoon sun streaming through the glass.
"Aye, that he is" says the shop keep. "To be honest, I don't know what to do with him and am thinking of letting him go for free to a good home. He's got a history that parrot, and I think he deserves a quiet retirement."
"Oh?" says Susan, her interest piqued. "Please do tell me, I'd be interested in taking him home."
"Well, the thing is, he used to belong to the madam of a large brothel on the other end of town. The place got busted a few years ago and he had to go into witness protection for a few years. He's given his evidence to the courts now, they've banged up all the pimps and traffickers, and apparently with no better ideas what to do with him, the authorities gave him to me to deal with. So, like I say, free to a good home, I think he deserves it."
Susan considers the story only briefly - she had been watching the parrot's beautiful feathers sparkle, seemingly changing between every colour she could name and then some she couldn't - before agreeing to take him. Out of gratitude to the shop keeper and sparing no expense, she buys all the accessories such a beautiful parrot could ever want: a grand cage, a velvet cover, the works.
Excitedly, Susan rushes home with her new pet. She plants the cage in the living room and whips the cover off.
The parrot blinks in the sudden light, looks around the room, and squawks "Raaaawwwwk, new room, I like it!".
Hearing the unusual sound of squawking, Susan's two daughters enter the room. The parrot looks them up and down and after a drawn out wolf-whistle remarks "RAAAAwwwwk, new girls, I REALLY like it!".
Susan's husband pokes his head through the door to see what all the commotion is about and the parrot says "Oh, hello Keith!"
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Man from the city goes hunting with his dog in the English countryside. A duck flies out of the reeds and the man shoots it down with a loud bang, and his faithful hound goes to retrieve the duck. When he comes back, the dog is being followed by a portly, red-faced farmer.
"'Ello there" says the farmer, "I think your dog has my duck. I'll be takin' that".
"Oh no", says the city-boy. "I shot it with my gun and my dog retrieved it. It's my duck."
"Aye, but you're on my land, so it was my duck in the first place" says the farmer.
"But you forget that I was on a public right of way" retorts the city slicker.
"Seems to me that we've got a dispute then" says the farmer, in a thick west-country drawl. "Tell you what, we've got time 'onoured traditions to settle these things, if you're game? What it is is that you stand there in the path, with your 'ands be'ind your back and your legs slightly apart, and I get to kick you in the nuts. Then I'll stand there on the path, with my 'ands be'ind my back and my legs slightly apart and you kick me in the nuts. And we'll go on like that until one man yields, and the other gets to keep the duck. What say you?"
"Far be it from me to refuse a country tradition" says the man, "I accept".
"Right then, stand there as I said" says the farmer, as he starts to walk away from the out-of-towner.
The farmer hefts his rotund frame about 50 yards down the path and gets on his haunches to take a run-up at the man. The man swallows hard out of trepidation, but dutifully stands as he promised, with his hands behind his back and his legs slightly apart. The farmer takes a surprisingly quick run towards the man and kicks him square in the balls.
About 15 minutes pass. After the man has recovered from vomiting, swearing, crying and weeping, he stands up, composes himself and says, wincing "Yep, you got them both square on. That was a good kick! Right, now it's my turn".
"You're alright", says the farmer, "you can keep the duck."
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Once upon a time there was a little boy who liked to go really, really fast. When he grew up, he became a train driver. But because he still liked to go really, really fast, it was only a matter of time until he went too fast in the train. Sure enough, he de-railed the train, killing one person in the wreck. He was subsequently convicted of manslaughter and sent to prison on a death sentence.
For his final meal, he modestly requested that the executioner give him one banana. He was then strapped into the electric chair, the switch was thrown, there were sparks, flashes of light, and a mild smell of burning, but afterwards the train driver was unscathed.
Now, in this country when a prisoner convicted to die survives the execution attempt, it is viewed as divine intervention and the prisoner is allowed to go free. So our train driver was freed, and even able to resume his old job!
But he hadn't learned his lesson; he still liked to go really, really fast. Sure enough, he eventually de-railed another train, this time killing two people.
Again, he was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to death by electric chair. When the designated day came, the train driver requested two bananas from the executioner for his final meal. After he ate these, he was strapped into the chair, the switch was thrown, there were sparks, flashes of light, and a burning smell, but afterwards the train driver was unscathed.
Again, this was viewed as divine intervention and the man was allowed to go free. Again, he resumed his old job as a train driver. And again, having not learned his lesson, he went really, really fast and de-railed a train, this time killing three people.
Again, he was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to die. When the day came, he requested from the executioner three bananas for his final meal.
"No, fuck you and fuck your bananas" said the executioner. "I don't know how you're doing it, but you've thwarted our attempts to execute you twice already. We're doing this now, with or without your final meal."
So, while it was against protocol and, some would say, common decency altogether, the train driver was strapped into the electric chair without having eaten his final meal. The switch was thrown, sparks flew, and again there were flashes of light and a burning smell… but again, when they turned off the chair, the train driver was absolutely fine.
"I don't understand it" said the executioner, "you didn't get your bananas this time?!"
"Oh the bananas had nothing to do with it" said the train driver. "I'm just a bad conductor."
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Guy goes to see the psychiatrist.
"Doctor, doctor, I keep having this alternating, recurring dream. First I'm a wigwam, then I'm a tee-pee, then I'm a wigwam, then I'm a tee-pee".
"Try to relax" the psychiatrist says, "you're two tents".
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