Jokes of the day for Sunday, 24 April 2022
| Funny jokes, funny photo and funny video collected from the internet on Sunday, 24 April 2022 |
Good grades...
The little boy wasn't getting good marks in school. One day he made the teacher quite surprised. He tapped her on the shoulder and said...
"I don't want to scare you, but my daddy says if I don't get better grades.... somebody is going to get a spanking....".
Complete and Finished
There is a subtle but important difference between the words "complete" and "finished."
When you marry the right one, you are complete.
When you marry the wrong one, you are finished.
And if the right one catches you with the wrong one, you are completely finished.
David Alan Grier: Stopped Smoking Reefer
I stopped smoking reefer because I started thinking, if great men throughout history had smoked reefer, no tellin what would have happened. Like if somebody like Martin Luther King Jr. had smoked reefer, he would have been giving speeches like, I had a dream, but the hell if I could remember what it was about. It was either about freedom or Fritos. Ant and a grasshopper
THE ORIGINAL VERSION The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter so he dies out in the cold.
MODERN CANADIAN VERSION
The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks he's a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away. Come the winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.
The CBC shows up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. Canadians are stunned by the sharp contrast. How can it be that, in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?
Then a representative of the NAGB (The national association of green bugs) shows up on The National and charges the ant with green bias, and makes the case that the grasshopper is the victim of 30 million years of greenism. Kermit the Frog appears on the Nature of Things with the grasshopper, and everybody cries when he sings "It's not easy being green.
"Jean Chretien makes a special guest appearance on the CBC Evening News to tell a concerned public that they will do everything they can for the grasshopper who has been denied the prosperity he deserves by those who benefited unfairly during the Reagan/Thatcher summers. Sheila Copps exclaims in an interview with Peter Mansbridge that the ant has gotten rich off the back of the grasshopper, and calls for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his "fair share."
Finally, the Liberals draft the "Economic Equity and Anti-Greenism Act," retroactive to the beginning of the summer. The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number of green bugs and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the government. John Turner gets his law firm to represent the grasshopper in a defamation suit against the ant, and the case is tried before a panel of federal hearing officers that Chretien appointed from a list of single-parent welfare moms who can only hear cases on Thursday's between 1:30 and 3 PM.
The ant loses the case.
The story ends as we see the grasshopper finishing up the last bits of the ant's food while the government house he's in, which just happens to be the ant's old house, crumbles around him since he doesn't know how to maintain it.
The ant has disappeared in the snow.
And on the TV, which the grasshopper bought by selling most of the ant's food, they are showing Jean Chretien standing before a wildly applauding group of liberals announcing that a new era of "fairness" has dawned in Canada.
Stuff Happens
Tao: Stuff happens.
Catholicism: If stuff happens, you deserved it.
Protestantism: Let stuff happen to somebody else.
Judasim: Why does stuff always happen to us?
Islam: Stuff happens according to the will of Allah.
Buddhism: The stuff is an illusion.
Zen: What is the sound of stuff happening?
Hinduism: This stuff happened before.
Mormonism: This stuff should multiply.
Baha'i Faith: Stuff happens in a progressive manner.
Agnosticism: I'm not sure about this stuff.
Atheism: That stuff about the stuff is all just made up stuff.
Jonestown: Forget about the stuff and just drink the Kool-Aid.
- Joke shared by Beliefnet member mytmouse57
Gabriel Iglesias: Tear It Up
Im a big boy, but I can get jiggy with it. Ladies, I will go to dance clubs, and I will tear it up hardcore for a good 30 seconds.Every Friday after work, a mat...
Every Friday after work, a mathematician goes down to the Ice Cream Parlor, sits in the second-to-last seat, turns to the last seat, which is empty, and asks a girl, who isn't there, if he can buy her an ice cream cone. The owner, who is used to the weird, local university types, always shrugs but keeps quiet. But when Valentine's Day arrives, and the mathematician makes a particularly heart wrenching plea into empty space, curiosity gets the better of him, and he says, "I apologize for my stupid questions, but surely you know there is never a woman sitting in that last stool, man. Why do you persist in talking to empty space?"
The mathematician replies, "Well, according to quantum physics, empty space is never truly empty. Virtual particles come into existence and vanish all the time. You never know when the proper wave function will collapse and a girl might suddenly appear there."
The owner raises his eyebrows. "Really? Interesting. But couldn't you just ask one of the girls who comes here every Friday if you could buy HER a cone? You never know... she might say yes."
The mathematician laughs. "Yeah, right. How likely is THAT to happen?"
A dietitian was once addressin...
A dietitian was once addressing a large audience in Chicago:"The material we put into our stomachs is enough to have killed most of us sitting here, years ago. Red meat is awful. Soft drinks erode your stomach lining. Chinese food is loaded with MSG. Vegetables can be disastrous, and none of us realizes the long-term harm caused by the germs in our drinking water.
"But there is one thing that is the most dangerous of all and we all have eaten or will eat it. Can anyone here tell me what food it is that causes the most grief and suffering for years after eating it?"
A 75-year-old man in the front row stood up and said, "Wedding cake."
Who Should Have The Toy?
The father of five children had won a toy at a raffle.
He called his kids together to ask which one should have the present.
"Who is the most obedient?" he asked. "Who never talks back to mother? Who does everything she says?"
Five small voices answered in unison. "Okay, dad, you get the toy."
There were three little boys v...
There were three little boys visiting their grandparents. The oldest came out and asked his grandpa, "Can you make a sound like a frog, Grandpappy?
Grandpa (being in a kind of ill mood) responds, "No, I don't really want to make the sound of a frog now."
So, the second little boy comes out and asks his grandfather, "Will you please make a sound like a frog?"
Grandpa again says, "No, not now. I don't really want to do that.I'm in a grumpy mood. Maybe later."
Then the third little boy comes out and says, "Grandpa, oh please...Please, please will you make a sound like a frog?"
"Why do all of you boys want me to make a sound like a frog?" Grandpa asked.
The little boy replied with a hopeful face, "Well, Mom said that when you croak, we get to go to Disney World!"
Snowboarding Lesson
When you're 47 years old, you sometimes hear a small voice inside you that says: "Just because you've reached middle age, that doesn't mean you shouldn't take on new challenges and seek new adventures. You get only one ride on this crazy carousel we call life, and by golly you should make the most of it." This is the voice of Satan.
I know this because recently, on a mountain in Idaho, I listened to this voice, and as a result my body feels as though it has been used as a trampoline by the Budweiser Clydesdales.
I am currently on an all-painkiller diet. "I'll have a black coffee and 250 Advil tablets" is a typical breakfast order for me these days.
This is because I went snowboarding.
For those of you who, for whatever reason, such as a will to live, do not participate in downhill winter sports, I should explain that snowboarding is an activity that is popular with people who do not feel that regular skiing is lethal enough.
These are of course young people, fearless people, people with 100 percent synthetic bodies who can hurtle down a mountainside at 50 miles per hour and knock down mature trees with their faces and then spring to their feet and go, "Cool."
People like my son. He wanted to try snowboarding, and I thought it would be good to learn with him, because we can no longer ski together.
We have a fundamental difference in technique: He skis via the Downhill Method, in which you ski down the hill; whereas I ski via the Breath-Catching Method, in which you stand sideways on the hill, looking as athletic as possible without actually moving muscles (this could cause you to start sliding down the hill).
If anybody asks if you're OK, you say, "I'm just catching my breath!" in a tone of voice that suggests that at any moment you're going to swoop rapidly down the slope; whereas in fact you're planning to stay right where you are, rigid as a statue, until the spring thaw.
At night, when the Downhillers have all gone home, we Breath-Catchers will still be up there, clinging to the mountainside, chewing on our parkas for sustenance.
So I thought I'd take a stab at snowboarding, which is quite different from skiing.
In skiing, you wear a total of two skis, or approximately one per foot, so you can sort of maintain your balance by moving your feet, plus you have poles that you can stab people with if they make fun of you at close range.
Whereas with snowboarding, all you get is one board, which is shaped like a giant tongue depressor and manufactured by the Institute of Extremely Slippery Things. Both of your feet are strapped firmly to this board, so that if you start to fall, you can't stick a foot out and catch yourself. You crash to the ground like a tree and lie there while skiers swoop past and deliberately spray snow on you.
Skiers hate snowboarders. It's a generational thing. Skiers are (and here I am generalizing) middle-aged Republicans wearing designer space suits; snowboarders are defiant young rebels wearing deliberately drab clothing that is baggy enough to cover the snowboarder plus a major appliance. Skiers like to glide down the slopes in a series of graceful arcs; snowboarders like to attack the mountain, slashing, spinning, tumbling, going backward, blasting through snowdrifts, leaping off cliffs, getting their noses pierced in midair, etc.
Skiers view snowboarders as a menace; snowboarders view skiers as Elmer Fudd.
I took my snowboarding lesson in a small group led by a friend of mine named Brad Pearson, who also once talked me into jumping from a tall tree while attached only to a thin rope.
Brad took us up on a slope that offered ideal snow conditions for the novice who's going to fall a lot: Approximately seven flakes of powder on top of an 18-foot-thick base of reinforced concrete.
You could not dent this snow with a jackhammer. (I later learned, however, that you COULD dent it with the back of your head.)
We learned snowboarding via a two step method:
Step One: Watching Brad do something.
Step Two: Trying to do it ourselves.
I was pretty good at Step One. The problem with Step Two was that you had to stand up on your snowboard, which turns out to be a violation of at least five important laws of physics.
I'd struggle to my feet, and I'd be wavering there and then the Physics Police would drop a huge chunk of gravity on me, and WHAM my body would hit the concrete snow, sometimes bouncing as much as a foot.
"Keep your knees bent!" Brad would yell, helpfully.
Have you noticed that whatever sport you're trying to learn, some earnest person is always telling you to keep your knees bent? As if that would solve anything. I wanted to shout back, "Forget my Knees! Do Something About these Gravity Chunks!"
Needless to say my son had no trouble at all. None. In minutes he was cruising happily down the mountain; you could actually see his clothing getting baggier. I, on the other hand, spent most of my time lying on my back, groaning, while space-suited Republicans swooped past and sprayed snow on me.
If I hadn't gotten out of there, they'd have completely covered me; I now realize that the small hills you see on ski slopes are formed around the bodies of 47-year-olds who tried to learn snowboarding.
So I think, when my body heals, I'll go back to skiing. Maybe sometime you'll see me out on the slopes, catching my breath. Please throw me some food.
