Poor Jokes / Recent Jokes
Poor old Bob sent his photograph off to a Lonely Hearts Club. They sent it back saying they weren`t that lonely
A man, carrying a very limp dog, entered the veterinary clinic. As he lay the dog on the table, the vet took out his stethoscope and placed the receptor on the dog's chest.
He listened for a moment or two, shook his head sadly and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but your dog has passed away."
"What?" screamed the man. "How can you tell? You haven't even done any tests on him. I demand a second opinion!"
With that, the vet turned and left the room, returning a few moments later with a Labrador Retriever. The Retriever went right to work and checked the poor dead dog out thoroughly. After a considerable amount of sniffing, the Retriever sadly shook its head and barked.
The vet then took the dog out and returned a few moments later with a cat, who also checked out the poor dog on the table.
As had his predecessors, the cat sadly shook its head, meowed, jumped off the table and ran out of the room.
The vet handed the man a bill for $650. The more...
Day 1 Dear Emile, Thanks for da bird in the Pear tree. I fixed it las
night with dirty rice an it was delicious. I doan tink the Pear tree
would grow in de swamp, so I swapped it for a Satsuma.
Day 2 Dear Emile, Your letter said you sent 2 turtle dove, but all I got
was 2 scrawny pigeon.
Anyway, I mixed them with andouille and made some gumbo out of dem.
Day 3 Dear Emile, Why doan you sen me some crawfish? I’m tired of
eating dem darned bird. I gave two of those prissy French chicken to
Mrs. Fontenot over at Grand Chenier, and fed the tird one to my dog,
Phideaux. Mrs. Fontenot needed some sparring partners for her fighting
rooster.
Day 4 Dear Emile, Mon Dieux! I tole you no more of dem bird. Deez
four, what you call “calling bird” wuz so noisy you could hear dem all
da’ way to Lafayette. I used they necks for my crab traps, and fed the
rest of dem to the gators.
Day 5 Dear Emile, You finally sent more...
Foreign Aid: The transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries.
For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.
So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.
After 30 years of astute care,
My gyno, Dr. Pruitt,
Said I should get a Mammogram.
"O.K," I said, "let's do it."
"Stand up here real close" she said,
(She got my boob in line,)
"And tell me when it hurts," she said,
"Ah yes! Right there, that's fine."
She stepped upon a pedal,
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate came slamming down,
My hooter's in a vice!
My skin was stretched and mangled,
From underneath my chin.
My poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish Pancake thin.
Excruciating pain I felt,
Within it's vice-like grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenseless more...
A widow was feeling rather lonely and decided that the best thing forher would be to have a companion. So, off she went to the pet shop. She wasn't sure just what kind of pet she'd like, so she figured she'djust walk around until she found just the' right one.' She went pastthe adorable little puppies, past the playful kittens, past thepreening birds, past the sleeping hamsters, past the whirling gerbils, and past the colorful fish. Nothing really appealed to her and seemed to be just what she waslooking for. She decided to go around the store again. On the way over to the puppies, she walked by a barrel. At the bottomof the barrel was a rather nasty looking toad. When she looked in, heWINKED at her! Our poor widow just shook herself! She couldn'tbelieve it. She rather quickly went back to the other pets ondisplay. Once again, she checked out those sweet little puppies, the darlingkittens, the fluttering birds, the fuzzy hamsters, the sleek gerbils, and the darting fish. Nothing more...
The Garda, a disagreeable sort, stops a local farmer on a minor infraction and proceeds to berate the poor man this way and that, dressing him down most unfairly. After the lecture, which the farmer takes well, the constable starts writing the poor man up. While he's writing, he keeps swattin' at flies circling his head.
"The circle flies botherin' ya, are they?" says the farmer.
"Why do ya call' em circle flies, old man?"
"We call' em that on the farm' cause we find' em flying around and around the harses' behinds." says the farmer.
"Are you callin' me a harse's arse?" snarls the Garda.
"Oh saints, no," protests the farmer. "T'wouldn't think of such a thing." And the Garda goes back to writing. "...kinda hard to fool the flies, though."