Mallet Jokes

A drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends late one night.
He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet.
What's with that big brass gong?" one of the guests asked.
It's not a gong. It's a talking clock", the drunk replied. A talking clock? Seriously?" asked his astonished friend.
"Yup", replied the drunk.
How's it work?" the friend asked, squinting at it.
"Watch", the drunk replied. He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound, and stepped back.
The three stood looking at one another for a moment.
Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screamed, "You asshole! It's three-fifteen in the morning!

A drunk was proudly showing off his new apartment to a couple of his friends late one night. He led the way to his bedroom where there was a big brass gong and a mallet. What`s with that big brass gong?" one of the guests asked. It`s not a gong. It`s a talking clock", the drunk replied. A talking clock? Seriously?" asked his astonished friend. "Yup", replied the drunk. How`s it work?" the friend asked, squinting at it. "Watch", the drunk replied. He picked up the mallet, gave the gong an ear-shattering pound, and stepped back. The three stood looking at one another for a moment. Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screamed, "You asshole! It`s three-fifteen in the morning!

I have a fruitcake which has been in my family for several years. Apparently,
my family saves them for the following year and gives them as a gift to
someone else. That's how the fruitcake that I gave my mother four years ago
finally made its way back into my hands. (Mom gave it to brother, brother
gave it to sister, then sister gave it to me).

Since the fruitcake tradition appears to be unstoppable, this year I've decided
to replace our family's fruitcake with a more durable one which we will cherish
for years.

Items Needed
-------------
4 Oz. Fruit Bits
1 Railroad Tie
Wood Saw
Large Rubber Mallet
Safety Goggles

WEAR YOUR SAFETY GOGGLES.
(Children Get help from an adult!)

Cut a one-foot section from the middle of your railroad tie. The resulting
block of wood should be the size and shape of a loaf of bread.

Then, take some fruit bits and pound them into the more...

A mute was walking down the street one day and chanced upon a friend ofhis, also a mute. In sign language, he inquired how his friend had beendoing. The friend replied (vocally!) "Oh, can that hand-waving shit. I can talk now." Intrigued, the mute pressed him for details. Seems he had gone to aspecialist, who, seeing no physical damage, had put him on a treatmentprogram that had restored the use of his vocal chords. Gesturing wildly, the mute asked if he might meet this specialist. Theygot an appointment that very afternoon. After an exam, the specialist proclaimed that he had found no permanentdamage. The mute was essentially in the same condition as his buddy, and that there was no reason why he couldn't be helped as well." Yes, yes" signed the mute. "Let's have the first treatment right now!""Very well," replied the specialist." Kindly go into the next room, dropyour pants and lean over the examining table. I'll be right in." The more...

Dear Abby has received lots of letters about funny names. Here are just a few sent to her!
My father was born in Menomonie, Wis., and later taught there. He used to tell me about a law firm there called Ketchum and Cheatum. Also, he had a high school classmate named Iva Liver. - ANN, COLUMBUS, OHIO
Years ago, I interviewed an attorney who was supposed to handle an important matter for me. His name: Rex R. Case. (Needless to say, I did not hire him!) - LINDA, N.J.
I read the front section of the paper, where I encountered the following. It's titled, "Circumcision of African men can cut HIV risk by half." The physician quoted from the World Health Organization is Dr. Kevin De Cock. - BONNIE IN WABASH, IND.
For many years the Internal Revenue supervisor in Oklahoma City was "I.M. Filer." - ANONYMOUS IN OKLAHOMA
My sister lives in Williamsville, N.Y., where there is a funeral home that seems nothing out of the ordinary, except for the name: Amigone more...