Food jokes (706 to 720)

 Lightbulb Joke Collection 03

Q: How many Jo Brands does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None, you give it to a bloody man to do, cos it's a piece of cake, isn't it? Well, no, actually, that expression is crap isn't it, because if you had a piece of cake, you'd bloody well eat it, wouldn't you?
Q: How many DIY buffs does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Only one, but it takes him two weekends and three trips to the hardware store.
Q: How many recovering addicts does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: One, but it takes twelve steps.
Q: How many recovering addicts does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: One, as long as he admits he's powerless over light bulbs.
Q: How many recovering addicts does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: One to screw it in and one to sponsor him.
Q: How many Soviet emigres does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Four. One to stand on a chair and hold the bulb, two to lift the chair by its legs, one to call an American and to ask which way to turn the chair.
Q: How many light bulbs does it take to change a Soviet emigre?
A: One, if you aim well.

Grandpa, Did God Make You?

A little girl was sitting on her grandfather’s lap as he read her a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. She was alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again. Finally she spoke up, “Grandpa, did God make you?”“Yes, sweetheart,” he answered. “God made me a long time ago.”“Oh,” she paused. “Grandpa, did God make me too?”“Yes, indeed, honey,” he said. “God made you just a little while ago.”Feeling their respective faces again, the little girl observed, “God’s getting better at it, isn’t He?”

 Cat Jokes 02

Q: What do you get if you cross a tiger with a sheep?

A: A stripey sweater!

Q: How do you know if your cat has eaten a duckling?
A: She's got that down in the mouth look!

Q: What do you get if you cross a cat with a canary?
A: A peeping tom!

Q: Why is the desert lion everyone's favorite at Christmas?

A: Because he has sandy claws!

Q: How does a lion greet the other animals in the field?

A: 'Pleased to eat you.'!

Q: What do you get if you cross a tiger with a snowman?

A: Frostbite!

Q: What is a French cat's favorite pudding?
A: Chocolate mousse!

Dr. Phil was conducting a ther...

Dr. Phil was conducting a therapy session with four young mothers and their small children.
"You all have obsessions," he observed. To the first mother he said,"You are so obsessed with eating you've even named your daughter Candy."
He turned to the second mom: "Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny."
He turns to the third mom: "Your obsession is alcohol.This, too, manifests itself in your child's name, Brandy."
At this point, the fourth mother gets up, takes her little boy by the hand and whispers, "Come on Dick, we're leaving."

 Knock Knock Collection 079

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Hacienda!
Hacienda who?
Hacienda the story!
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Hagar!
Hagar who?
Hagar, you with the stars in your eyes....!
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Haifa!
Haifa who?
Haifa cake is better than none!
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Hair!
Hair who?
Hair today, gone tomorrow!
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Haiti!
Haiti who?
Haiti see a good thing go to waste!

"Darling," a husband whispered

"Darling," a husband whispered to his wife late one night, "if I died, would you get married again?"
"I suppose so," she replied.
"Would you sleep in the same bed with him?" he asked.
"Well, it's the only bed in the house, so I have no choice," she replied.
"Would you make love to him?" he asked.
"Honey," the woman said patiently, "of course I would. He would be my husband."
"Would you give him my car?" he asked.
"No," she yawned. "He can't drive a stick shift."

A little old lady went to the

A little old lady went to the grocery store and put the most expensive cat food in her basket. She then went to the check out counter where she told the check out girl, "Nothing but the best for my little kitten."
The girl at the cash register said, "I'm sorry, but we cannot sell you cat food without proof that you have a cat. A lot of old people buy cat food to eat, and the management wants proof that you are buying the cat food for your cat."
The little old lady went home, picked up her cat and brought it back to the store. They sold her the cat food.
The next day, the old lady went to the store and bought 12 of the most expensive dog cookies - one for each day of Christmas. The cashier this time demanded proof that she now had a dog, claiming that old people sometimes eat dog food. Frustrated she went home, came back and brought in her dog. She was then given the dog cookies.
The next day she brought in a box with a hole in the lid. The little old lady asked the cashier to stick her finger in the hole. The cashier said, "No, you might have a snake in there." The little old lady assured her that there was nothing in the box that would bite her. So the cashier put her finger into the box and pulled it out and told the little old lady, "That smells like crap."
The little old lady grinned from ear to ear, "Now, my dear, can I please buy three rolls of toilet paper?"
Never fool around with a Little old lady!

How Many Telemarketers

How many telemarketers does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one, but they have to do it while you're eating dinner.

One day a little girl was watc...

One day a little girl was watching her mom make a roast beef. She cut off the ends, wrapped it in string, seasoned it and set it in the roasting pan.
The little girl asked her mom why she cut off the ends of the roast. Mom replied, after some thought, that it was the way that her mother had done it.
That night grandma came to dinner and the little girl and her mom went to her and asked why she had cut the end off of the roast before cooking. After some thought grandma replied, that was the way her mother had done it.
Now great grandmother was quite old and in a nursing home. But the little girl went with her mom and grandma to see her and again asked the question.
Grandma looked at them a bit annoyed and said, "So it would fit in the pan, of course."

Top 10 things MEN would do if...

Top 10 things MEN would do if they woke up and had a vagina for a day:
10. Immediately go shopping for zucchini and cucumbers.
9. Squat over a hand held mirror for an hour and a half.
8. See if they could finally do a split.
7. See if it's truly possible to launch a ping pong ball 20 feet.
6. Cross their legs without rearranging their crotch.
5. Get picked up in a bar in less than 10 minutes... BEFORE closing time.
4. Have consecutive multiple orgasms and still be ready for more without sleeping first.
3. Go to the gynecologist for a pelvic exam and ask to have it recorded on video.
2. Sit on the edge of the bed and pray for breasts, too.
1. Finally find that damned G spot!

Answering Machine Message 80

Hi, dudes, this is 229-3053, the Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles' secret underground hideaway. I'm afraid we're all out just now on a desperate mission to save the Planet from boring answering machine messages, but if you know what The Shredder has done to April O'Neill, or if you know where he is, or if you can think of a decent pizza recipe, just leave your name and number and we'll ring you right back. But don't say anything yet! Enemy agents may be listening. When the computer has checked they're not eavesdropping, it will make a bleeping noise and you can speak freely.

A new CEO takes over...

A new CEO takes over at a struggling startup business and decides to get rid of all the employees that are slacking. On a tour of the office, the CEO notices a guy leaning on a wall.
He can’t believe this guy would just stand around on the job. The new CEO walks up to the guy leaning against the wall and asks, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m just waiting to get paid,” responds the man.
Furious, the new CEO asks “How much money do you make a week?”
A little surprised, the young man replies, “I make about $300 a week. Why do you ask?”
The CEO quickly gets out his checkbook, hands the guy a check made out to cash for $1,200 and says, “Here’s four weeks’ pay, now get out right now and don’t come back.”
The young man puts the check in his pocket and promptly walks out of the office.
Feeling pretty good about himself, the CEO looks around the room and asks, “Does anyone want to tell me what just happened here?”
From across the room comes a loud voice, “Yes, you just tipped the pizza delivery guy $1,200.”

Condoms galore
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Condoms galore
Nike Condoms: Just do it.
Toyota Condoms: Oh what a feeling.
Diet Pepsi Condoms: You got the right one, baby.
Pringles Condoms: Once you pop, you can't stop.
Mentos Condoms: The freshmaker.
Flintstones Vitamins Condom Pack: Ten million strong and growing.
Secret Condoms: Strong enough for a man, but pH balanced for a woman.
Macintosh Condom: It does more, it costs less, it's that simple.
Ford Condoms: The best never rest.
Chevy Condoms: Like a rock.
Dial Condoms: Aren't you glad you use it? Don't you wish everybody did?
New York Lotto Condoms: Cause hey - you never know.
California Lotto Condoms: Who's next?
Avis Condoms: Trying harder than ever.
KFC Condoms: Finger-Licking Good.
Coca Cola Condoms: Always the Real Thing.
Lays Condoms: Betcha can't have just one.
Campbell's Soup Condoms: Mmm, mmm, good.
General Electric Condoms: We bring good things to life!
AT&T Condoms: Reach out and touch someone.
Bounty Condoms: The quicker picker upper.
Microsoft Condoms: Where do you want to go today?
Energizer Condoms: It keeps going and going and going....
M&M condom: It melts in your mouth, not in your hands!
Taco Bell Condoms: Get some; make a run for the border.
MCI Condoms: For friends and family
Doublemint Condoms: Double your pleasure, double your fun!
The Sears latex condom: One coat is good for the entire winter.
Delta Airlines Condoms travel pack: Delta is ready when you are.
United Airlines Condoms travel pack: Fly United.
The Star Trek Condom: To Boldly Go Where No Man Has Gone Before.

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.

The Biology Song 03

ODE TO A CLONE
By John Scalzi
(This originally appeared in America Online's "Howdy" area on March 6th.)
Oh clone, my clone, how can you bear it
To exist knowing you have only one parent?
No zygote you, when haploid cells met
You were produced with a full chromosome set.
And now I can see that you are confused
To discover your genes have arrived slightly used.
To answer your questions is the aim of this poem
You who are like me, my clone, oh my clone.
You were not produced from between sweaty sheets
In fact, you arose from cells scraped off of my cheek.
Your genes gently placed in an egg we provided
And then shocked with a current until they divided.
You sat there a while till it was time to fish
That thing that was you from that petri dish.
(And though it may seem churlish at this time to mention,
we suspect that the dish had post-partum depression).
Oh clone, my clone, don't feel angst or feel grief
Because the genes that you have are not bought but are leased.
You have no mother, but that's no impediment
Indeed, you've bypassed the whole Complex of Oedipus.
To your one parent you can always relate
To do otherwise is a form of self hate.
Who can tell us apart when we answer the phone?
No one at all, my clone, oh my clone.
Think of all the experiences we'll have!
(That is, once they allow you to go from the lab).
I'll take you to places that I've already been
So you can see them once more for the first time again.
Let's go to work, where I think we will find
That we'll get twice as much done in just half the time.
And should we play tennis, our opponents have troubles
As they must play singles, but we shall play doubles.
Oh clone, my clone, I see you are vexed
By ethical issues admittedly complex.
If you are my clone, are you wed to my wife?
And would having two husbands cause marital strife?
Suppose that we clone her? Then what would that be?
Bigamy, polygamy, or polyandry?
Oh, the guilt I would have would go to the bone
If I accidentally slept with your wife, oh my clone.
Perhaps it would be better if we lived all our days
Away from each other -- and go separate ways.
I would stay here and live with my mate
And you would take yours to some other state
Perhaps to Alaska, with Northern Lights blue
To live off the land, in a hut or igloo.
And with a deep sense of pride all my friends would be shown
Many pictures of your house, a Nome clone dome home.
Oh clone, my clone, you impressive feat
The one person born with no help from gametes.
When you have troubles getting yourself to sleep
Do you think on your compatriot, Dolly the sheep?
It's true that we both share our genetic information
But I know that your mind performs its own peregrinations.
In the end I am me, and you are just you alone
You are your own person, my clone, oh my clone.