A grumpy old man walks into a local First Baptist Church and says to the secretary, “I wanna join this damn church.”

The astonished woman replies, “I beg your pardon, sir. I must have misunderstood you. What did you say?”

“Listen up, dammit. I said I want to join this damn church!”

“I’m very sorry sir, but that kind of language is not tolerated in this church.” The secretary leaves her desk and goes into the pastor’s study to inform him of her situation. The pastor agrees that the secretary does not have to listen to that foul language. They both return to her office and the pastor asks, “Sir, what seems to be the problem here?”

“There IS no damn problem!,” the man says. “Looky here, I just won $200 million bucks in the damn lottery and I want to join this damn church to get rid of some of this damn money.”

A guy walks into the street and manages to hail a taxi just as it’s passing by. He hops into the taxi, and the cabby says, “Perfect timing. You’re just like Frank.”

Passenger: “Who?”

Cabby: “Frank. Frank Feldman. He’s a guy who did everything right, all the time. Like my coming along just when you needed a cab, things happened like that to Frank each and every single time.”

Passenger: “Yeah, but there are always a few clouds over everybody.”

Cabby: “Not over Frank. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand-Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was just one amazing guy.”

Passenger: “Sounds like he was something really special.”

Cabby: “Oh, there’s more. He had a memory like a computer. Could remember everybody’s birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Frank, he could do everything right.”

Passenger. “Wow, some guy then.”

Cabby: “He always knew the quickest way to go in traffic and avoid traffic jams, not like me, I always seem to get stuck in them. But Frank, he never made a mistake. Never.”

Passenger. “Mmm, there’s not many like him around.”

Cabby: “And he really knew how to treat a woman and make her feel good and never answer her back, even if she was in the wrong. And his clothing was always immaculate, his shoes highly polished—like mirrors, they were. Frank was the Perfect Man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Frank Feldman.”

Passenger: “An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?”

Cabby: “Well, I never actually met Frank.”

Passenger: “Then how do you know so much about him?”

An old southern Baptist country preacher had a teenage son, and it was getting time the boy should give some thought to choosing a profession.

Like many young men, the boy didn’t really know what he wanted to do, and he didn’t seem too concerned about it.

One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. He went into the boy’s room and placed on his study table four objects:

A Bible,
A silver dollar,
A bottle of whisky,
A Playboy magazine

“I’ll just hide behind the door,” the old preacher said to himself, “and when he comes home from school this afternoon, I’ll see which object he picks up. If it’s the Bible, he’s going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the dollar, he’s going to be a businessman, and that would be okay, too. But if he picks up the bottle, he’s going to be a no-good drunkard, and, Lord, what a shame that would be! And worst of all, if he picks up that magazine he’s gonna be a skirt-chasin’ bum.”

The old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son’s footsteps as he entered the house whistling and headed for his room. The boy tossed his books on the bed, and as he turned to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table.

With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them. Finally, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped it into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a big drink while he admired this month’s centerfold.

There seems to be a minor cottage industry developing in David Beckham jokes. Here are a couple I’ve recently run across.

Posh Spice and David Beckham are sitting in front of the TV watching the six o’clock news. The headline feature is a man who is threatening to jump off a suspension bridge onto the busy road below.

Posh turns to Beckham and says “Dave, I bet you $10,000 that he jumps.” He replies ”$10,000! You’re on!” The pair shake on it and continue watching the commotion on the TV. Sure enough, the man jumps and hits the road below with a loud thud.

Beckham takes 10 grand out of his pocket and gives it to Posh. “I can’t take that from you, Dave,” she says. “I was cheating. I saw the five o’clock news earlier so I knew what was going to happen. I can’t accept that money.”

Beckham replies, “No, babe. The money is yours fair and square. I was cheating too. I just didn’t think he would do it again.”

David runs into the living room, very excited. He’s finally completed the jigsaw puzzle that he started 40 days ago. Posh asks him if that’s a good time. David says, “Absolutely! The cover of the box says 3-6 years!”

From the few interviews I’ve seen of him, he doesn’t strike me as unintelligent; these are probably driven more by fiscal and social envy.

the blog québécois

I mentioned the Mel Smith cigar ban incident in Edinburgh in my latest TCS piece. Well it seems you can’t smoke in an act but you can have an act full of jew-hatred and gags about the holocaust. Tim Blair reports on the acts who are enbracing the jihadist market.

Sad news.

Macca could always argue that Ms Mills was rather wooden in bed.

This is awful, but I don’t make them up. John Podhoretz of The Corner does.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Little old lady.

Little old lady who?

In solidarity with those Mohammed Cartoons creators.

. . . then where do one-legged women work?

the blog québécois

Q. What do Charles Kennedy and Mark Oaten have in common?
A. They both liked to spend their evenings getting shit-faced.

A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Basra when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in similar but less serious state.

The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men, the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.

The Marine reported, I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent. We saw each other and immediately took cover in the ditches along the road.

I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein is a miserable, lowlife dirtbag, and he yelled back that Senator Ted Kennedy is a good-for-nothing, fat, left wing liberal drunk. So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a frigid, mean spirited woman!

He retaliated by yelling, Oh yeah? Well so does Hillary Clinton!

Nice to that the Vietnamese are celebrating Christmas 2005 in the festive spirit…they’re hanging Glitter this year…

Old joke, so I apologize if you’ve heard it—but, hey, I got nothin’ tonight.

A travelling salesman has a car breakdown and makes his way to a farmer’s house.

The farmer asks him if he’d like something to drink, and hollers: “Hey, Princess!”

And a pig with only one hind leg comes hopping out of the kitchen and hands the salesman a perfectly mixed martini.

Later on, the farmer asks the salesman if he’d like to listen to some music, and hollers: “Hey, Princess!”

And the pig comes hopping out of the kitchen, sits down at the piano and flawlessly plays an exquisite Chopin étude.

The salesman finally leans over to the farmer and says, “That’s quite a remarkable pig you’ve got there.”

The farmer nods and says, “Ay-yup.”

“I am curious, though. How did Princess lose her hind leg? An accident of some sort?”

The farmer didn’t speak for a long time, and then drawled:

“Weyalll, when you’ve got a pig that talented, it’d be kind of a shame to eat it all at once.”

the blog québécois

Pollard has posted a rather amusing Jewish joke.

Via G’day Mate!

Little Tim was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbour peered over the fence. Interested in what the cheeky-faced youngster was up to, he politely asked, What are you up to there, Tim?

My goldfish died, replied Tim tearfully, without looking up, and Ive just buried him.

The neighbor was concerned, Thats an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isnt it?

Tim patted down the last heap of earth then replied, Thats because hes inside your cat.

Question: How many bloggers does it take to change a light bulb?

Answers:

One to change the light bulb and to post the fact that the light bulb has been changed

14 to share similar experiences of changing light bulbs and how the light bulb could have been changed differently

7 to caution about the dangers of changing light bulbs

There’s more here.

the blog québécois

What with the tense situation in the Middle East, it seems appropriate to deploy the latest in Pandajoke™ technology:

A panda walks into a restaurant, sits down, and orders a sandwich. He eats the sandwich, pulls out a gun, and shoots the waiter dead. As the panda stands up to go, the manager shouts, “Hey! Where are you going? You just shot my waiter, and you didn’t even pay for your sandwich!”

“Hey, man, I’m a PANDA!” the panda shouts back. “Look it up!”

The manager opens his dictionary and reads:

Panda: A tree-dwelling marsupial of Asian origin, characterized by distinct black and white coloring. Eats shoots and leaves.

Via Anil Dash

This is pretty funny. Link courtesy of Spoons.

(Sort of work-safe: You need to hear it, and you’ll want to crank up the volume and pogo-dance around the room with the thrilling “Song of Trogdor” or whatever it’s called.)

How many Mac developers does it take to change a lightbulb?

10

One to change the lightbulb, four to do the marketing and five to design the box.

Via: Mr Tyke

News Anchor Dan Rather, The Reverend Jesse Jackson, NPR Reporter Cokie Roberts, and an American Marine were hiking through the jungle one day
when they were captured by cannibals. They were tied up, led to the village
and brought before the chief. The chief said, “I am familiar with your western custom of granting the condemned a last wish. Before we kill and eat you, do you have any last requests?”

NASA has released a shocking, uncensored tape. It’s not work-safe: the language is quite raw, but that’s quite understandable, given the seriousness of the moment. You can listen to it here . (Via Burchismo.)

Via Dean Esmay:

My friend Kyle recently told me this joke. Warning: it’s a little vulgar.

A pirate walks into a bar. Oddly enough, he has a steering wheel sticking out of the front of his pants.

He waddles uncomfortably up to the bar and orders a beer. Everyone is kind of looking at him. The bartender serves him his beer, and says, “Excuse me sir, I can’t help but ask. I notice you have a steering wheel stuck there in front of you. Isn’t that kind of uncomfortable?”

The pirate says:

Little Johnny was in his 4th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living.

All the typical answers came up—fireman, policeman, salesman, etc.

Johnny was being uncharacteristically quiet and so the teacher asked him about his father.

“My father’s an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer’s really good he’ll go out to the alley with some guys and makes love with them for money”

The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some coloring, and took little Johnny aside to ask him, “is that really true about your father?”

“No,” said Johnny, “he plays for the Boston Red Sox, but I was too embarrassed to say so.”