Tires Jokes / Recent Jokes
A trucker came into a truck stop cafe and placed his order. He said, "I want three flat tires, a pair of headlights and a pair of running boards."
The brand new blonde waitress, not wanting to appear stupid, went to the kitchen and said to the cook, "This guy out there just ordered three flat tires, a pair of headlights and a pair of running boards. What does he think this place is, an auto parts store?"
"No," the cook said. "Three flat tires mean three pancakes, a pair of headlights is two eggs sunny side up, and running boards are 2 slices of crisp bacon."
"Oh, OK!" said the blonde. She thought about it for a moment and then spooned up a bowl of beans and gave it to the customer.
The trucker asked, "What are the beans for, Blondie?"
She replied, "I thought while you were waiting for the flat tires, headlights and running boards, you might as well gas up!"
The rear tires on your car are at least twice as wide as the front ones.
A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldn't afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It is a '70 Mustang, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the prototypical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch your crotch and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires, tra la la la.
I'm driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this assh*le, overaerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up.
Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance. She proceeds to yell in my window, "Hey, slow down you %$&#@ idiot." I'm a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, "assh*le" at me again. Twice? *&%$# that. I turn around and drive up next to her.
"Do you have a problem?" I ask.
"Yeah, why are you driving like an more...
A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldn't afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It's a '70 Mustang, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the proto-typical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch yourself and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires.
I'm driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this crazy, over aerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up. Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance.
She proceeds to yell in my window, "Hey, slow down you idiot." I'm a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, "Jerk" at me again. Twice? I turn around and drive up next to her.
"Do you have a problem?" I ask.
"Yeah, why are you driving like an idiot?"
"I was driving like more...
One day an out of work mime is visiting the zoo and attempts to earn some money as a street performer. Unfortunately, as soon as he starts to draw a crowd, a zoo keeper grabs him and drags him into his office. The zoo-keeper explains to the mime that the zoo's most popular attraction, a gorilla, has died suddenly and the keeper fears that attendance at the zoo will fall off. He offers the mime a job to dress up as the gorilla until they can get another one. The mime accepts. So the next morning the mime puts on the gorilla suit and enters the cage before crowd comes. He discovers that it's a great job. He can sleep all he wants, play and make fun of people and he draws bigger crowds than he ever did as a mime. However, eventually the crowds tire of him and he tires of just swinging on tires. He begins to notice that the people are paying more attention to the lion in the cag e next to his. Not wanting to lose the attention of his audience, he climbs to the top of his cage, crawls more...