Timid Jokes / Recent Jokes

A 5th grade class was putting on a school play about the Knights of the Roundtable. One little boy was very timid, so the teacher asked him to be responsible for saying just one line in the play. He was to go up to a young girl dressed as a fair maiden and say, "Oh, fair young damsel, I've come to snatch a kiss and fill your soul with hope." The boy practiced the line for hours on end to make sure he would say it perfectly.
But, the night the play was done for the school children and all the parents, the boy became extremely nervous. When the play got to his line, it came out, "Oh, damn young fairsel, I've come to kiss your snatch and fill your hole with soap!"

A bar owner in the Old West has just hired a timid new bartender. The owner of the establishment is giving his new hire some instructions on running the place. He tells the timid man, "If you ever hear that Big John is coming to town, drop everything and run for the hills! He's the meanest, biggest, nastiest outlaw who ever lived!"
A few weeks pass uneventfully. One afternoon, a local cowhand comes running through town yelling, "Big John is coming to town! Run for your lives!"
When the bartender exits the saloon to start running, he's knocked to the ground by several townspeople scurrying out of town. As he's picking himself up, he sees a large man approaching the saloon, probably about 7 feet tall, muscular, grunting and growling as he walks.
He stomps up to the door, orders the poor barkeep inside, and demands, "I want a beer now!"
He pounds his heavy fist on the bar, nearly splitting it in half. The bartender nervously hands the big more...

Yesterday on our Superstar Talent Bitcom page, we got a comment on Episode 3. It came from a guy named John Kennedy. It said something like, “They did this on Extras, come up with something original.” Neil, who plays Avi on the show, woke me up and requested that I remove the comment, so I did. I think we were hoping for a few good comments prior to the hate mail and/or law suits.
Paraphrasing this piece by Teddy Roosevelt, “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”
So for all of you who are the watchers and not the doers in life, you can have your opinion(s), I can respect that, it’s a free more...

A bar owner in the Old West has just hired a timid new bartender. The owner of the establishment is giving his new hire some instructions on running the place. He tells the timid man, “If you ever hear that Big John is coming to town, drop everything and run for the hills! He’s the meanest, biggest, nastiest outlaw who ever lived! ”
A few weeks pass uneventfully. One afternoon, a local cowhand comes running through town yelling, “Big John is coming to town! Run for your lives! ”
When the bartender exits the saloon to start running, he’s knocked to the ground by several townspeople scurrying out of town. As he’s picking himself up, he sees a large man approaching the saloon, probably about 7 feet tall, muscular, grunting and growling as he walks.
He stomps up to the door, orders the poor barkeep inside, and demands, “I want a beer now! ”
He pounds his heavy fist on the bar, nearly splitting it in half. The bartender nervously hands the big man a more...

A highly timid little man, Casper Milquetoast, ventured into a biker bar in the Bronx and clearing his throat asked, "Um, err, which of you gentlemen owns the Doberman tied outside to the parking meter?"
A giant of a man, wearing biker leathers, his body hair growing out through the seams, turned slowly on his stool, looked down at the quivering little man and said, "It's my dog. Why?"
"Well," squeaked the little man, obviously very nervous, "I believe my dog just killed it, sir."
"What?" roared the big man in disbelief. "What in the hell kind of dog do you have?"
"Sir," answered the little man, "It's a four week old puppy."
"Bull!" roared the biker, "How could your puppy kill my Doberman?"
"It appears that he choked on it, sir."