Tree Jokes / Recent Jokes

A mother was pleased with the card her son had made her for Christmas, but was puzzled as to the scraggly-looking tree from which many presents dangled, and at the very top, something that looked strangely like a bullet.
She asked him if he would explain the drawing and why the tree itself was so bare, instead of a fat pine tree.
"It's not a Christmas tree." he said. "It's a cartridge in a pear tree."

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to me: TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming, ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note), TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping, NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression, EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans, SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands, SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products, FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration, (NOTE: after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the more...

Clem pulled over the car by the side of the road and showed Jed where he'd first had sex.

"It was right down there by that tree. I remember the day plainly. It was a warm summer day. She and I were so much in love. We walked down to the tree and made love for hours," Clem recalled.

"That sounds wonderful," said Jed.

"Yes. It was okay until I looked up and noticed her mother was standing right there watching us."

"Oh my God! What did her mother say when she saw you making love to her daughter?"

"Baaaaa..."

Dear Friends
I have been watching you very closely to see if you have been good this year, and since you have, I will be telling my elves to make some goodies for me to leave under your tree at Christmas. I was going to bring you all the gifts from the "Twelve Days of Christmas", but we had a little problem up here.
The twelve fiddlers fiddling, have all come down with VD from fiddling with the ten ladies dancing. The eleven lords a leaping have knocked up the eight maids a milking, and the nine pipers playing, have been arrested for doing weird things to the seven swans a swimming. The six geese a laying, four calling birds, three French hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree, have me up to my ass in bird shit. On top of all this, Mrs. Clause is going through menopause, eight of my reindeer are in heat, the elves have joined The Gay Liberation Front, and those dumb Newfoundlanders have scheduled Christmas for the 5th Of February.
Sincerely, more...

Why'd the monkey fall outta the tree? 'cause he was dead...Why'd the other monkey fall outta the tree? 'cause he was dead too...Why'd the third monkey fall outta the tree? peer pressure...

Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them. The beech says to the birch: "Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?" The birch says he cannot tell. Just then a woodpecker lands in the sapling. The birch says "Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?" The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies: "It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. That, my friends, is the best piece of ash I have ever put my pecker in."

Level I:
Your guests are conversing quietly, nibbling at their hors d'oerves, and sipping their drinks. Later, some of the gather by the piano to sing Christmas carols while others admire the ornaments on your tree.
Level II:
Your guests are talking loudly, wolfing hors d'oerves, and drinking from the bottles. Some people gather by the piano to sing "I Gotta Be Me" while others begin rearranging your Christmas ornaments.
Level III:
Your guests are arguing wildly among themselves, those that haven't passed out from the upside-down margaritas. One person is singing "I Can't Get No Satisfaction", which can barely be heard over the sound of breaking ornaments. A small group of guests begin placing hors d'oerves in the piano to see what happens when the little hammers strike.
Level IV:
Your guests, hors d'oerves smeared over their naked bodies, are performing a ritualistic dance around the burning Christmas tree. The piano is missing. more...