Museum Jokes

My favorite museum when I was growing up, the one that influenced me the most, was the Kit Carson Museum.
It was really impressive because right away when you walked in what you saw was this case with two human skulls in it, dramatically presented.
One skull was larger and had a label stating "The Skull of Kit Carson." That was really something.
Then, to the side, there was this smaller skull with a label that said "The Skull of Kit Carson as a Boy"...

Two elderly women are walking through a museum and get separated.
As soon as they meet up with each other again, one of them appears quite flustered and says, "Goodness, gracious! Did you see the statue of the naked man back there? I've never been so shocked. How can they possibly display such a thing. My gosh, the penis on it was so large!"
Whereupon, the other old lady accidentally blurts out, "Yes, and cold, too!"

Sherlock Holmes & Watson go to a Rock Museum.
They walk around for a while when Watson notices that there is a rock that doesn't have a display name.
"What kind of rock is that?" he asked Sherlock.
"Sedimentary, my dear Watson!"

It's a good thing we have gravity, or else when birds died they'd just stay right up there. Hunters would be all confused.

When I die, I'm leaving my body to science fiction.

I went to the bank and asked to borrow a cup of money. They said, "What for?" I said, "I'm going to buy some sugar."

I saw a bank that said "24 Hour Banking", but I don't have that much time.

I went to the museum where they had all the heads and arms from the statues that are in all the other museums.

I like to go to art museums and name the untitled paintings. . . Boy With Pail. . . Kitten On Fire.

One time I went to a museum where all the work in the museum had been done by children. They had all the paintings up on refrigerators.

Last time I went to the movies I was thrown out for bringing my own food. My argument was that the concession stand prices are outrageous. Besides, I haven't had a Bar-B-Que in a more...

More than thirty years ago when I first moved to Memphis TN in the United States, I traveled over to the state of Arkansas in search of an antique automobile museum which I was told was located in a public park named Petit Jean State Park.
I stopped at a rural grocery store to ask directions and, pronouncing the place name in my very best Louisiana Cajun French, asked for directions to Petit Jean.
The proprietor told me that he had never heard of any such place. I then explained that it was the location of an antique automobile museum to which he exclaimed, "Oh, you mean PETTY GENE!" and proceeded to give me explicit directions.