The best jokes (5911 to 5925)

Am I A Bad Father?

Johnathan asked his young son, 'Greg, do you think I’m a bad father?'
'My name is Andrew,' replied his son.

Railroad

A man who had spent his whole life in the desert visited a friend. He'd never seen a train or the tracks they run on. While standing in the middle of the RR tracks, he heard a whistle, but didn't know what it was. Predictably, he's hit and is thrown, ass-over-tea-kettle, to the side of the tracks, with some minor internal injuries, a few broken bones, and some bruises.
After weeks in the hospital recovering, he's at his friend's house attending a party. While in the kitchen, he suddenly hears the teakettle whistling. He grabs a baseball bat from the nearby closet and proceeds to batter and bash the teakettle into an unrecognizable lump of metal. His friend, hearing the ruckus, rushes into the kitchen, sees what's happened and asks the desert man, "Why'd you ruin my good tea kettle?"
The desert man replies, "Man, you gotta kill these things when they're small."

Coffee Shop

I walked into a coffee shop on Halloween to find the woman behind the counter with a bunch of sponges pinned to her uniform.
"I'm assuming this is a costume, but just what are you supposed to be?" I asked.
The waitress responded proudly, "I'm self-absorbed."

Cargo Space

Dad is down at the auto dealership, looking at potential choices.
“Cargo space?” he asks.
The salesman, slightly confused, finally replies, “Car no do that... car go road.”

Steve, ...

Steve, Bob, and Jeff were working one day on a very high scaffolding when suddenly, Steve falls off and is killed instantly. After the ambulance leaves with Steve's body, Bob and Jeff realise that one of them is going to have to tell Steve's wife.

Bob says he's good at this sort of sensitive stuff, so he volunteers to do the job. After two hours he returns, carrying a six-pack of beer.

"So did you tell her?" asks Jeff.
"Yep", replied Bob.
"Say, where did you get the six-pack?"
Bob informs Jeff. "She gave it to me!"
"What??" exclaims Jeff, "you just told her her husband died and she gave you
a six-pack??"
"Sure," Bob says.
"Why?" asks Jeff.

"Well," Bob continues, "when she answered the door, I asked her, 'are you
Steve's widow?' 'Widow?', she said, 'no, no, you're mistaken, I'm not a
widow!'

So I said: "I'll bet you a six-pack you ARE!'"

Chalk One Up For The Grandparents!

An elderly man in Miami calls his son in New York and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing.

Forty-five years of misery is enough."

"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.

"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the old man says.

"We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her," and he hangs up.

Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone, "Like heck they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take care of this."

She calls her father immediately and screams at the old man, "You are NOT getting divorced! Don't do a single thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs up.

The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he says, "They're coming for Passover and paying their own airfares."

Running red lights...

Two elderly women were out driving in a large car. Both could barely see over the dashboard. As they were cruising along they came to an intersection. The stoplight was red but they just went on through. The woman in the passenger seat thought to herself "I must be losing it; I could have sworn we just went through a red light."

After a few more minutes they came to another intersection and the light was red again and again they went right through. This time the woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that the light had been red but was really concerned that she was losing it. She was getting nervous and decided to pay very close attention to the road and the next intersection to see what was going on.

At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was definitely red and they went right through and she turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred! Did you know we just ran through three red lights in a row! You could have killed us!"

Mildred turned to her and said, "Oh, am I driving?"

“The divers had to be...

“The divers had to be careful, the octopus was heavily armed.”

How to give a cat a pill
<...

How to give a cat a pill

1. Pick up the cat and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow.

2. Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left Arm and repeat process.

3. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm, holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.

4. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold front and rear paws, ignore growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold cat's head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously.

5. Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.

6. Wrap cat in a large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with cat's head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of a drinking straw, force cat's mouth open with pencil and blow down straw.

7. Check label to make sure pill is not harmful to humans, drink a beer to take away the taste. Apply Band-Aid to spouse's forearm and remove blood from the carpet with soap and water.

8. Tie the little angel’s front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of the dining table. Find heavy pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertical and pour 2 pints of water down cat's throat to wash down pill.

9. Consume remainder of scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the A&E, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill from your eye. Call furniture shop on way home to order a new table.

10. Arrange for RSPCA to collect the mutant cat from hell and ring local pet shop to see whether they have any hamsters.

An Englishman, an Irishman and...

An Englishman, an Irishman and an Australian walk into a bar.
The barman says, "Is this some kind of bloody joke?"

EAGER T...

EAGER TO IMPRESS THE BOSS

A young executive was leaving the office late one evening when he found the
CEO standing in front of a shredder with a piece of paper in his hand.

"Listen," said the CEO, "this is a very sensitive and important document
here, and my secretary has gone for the night. Can you make this thing
work?"

"Certainly," said the young executive. He turned the machine on, inserted
the paper, and pressed the start button.

"Excellent, excellent!" said the CEO as his paper disappeared inside the
machine. "I just need one copy."

Gators gone?

While sports fishing off the Florida coast, a tourist capsized his boat. He could swim, but his fear of alligators kept him clinging to the overturned craft.

Spotting an old beachcomber standing on the shore, the tourist shouted, "are there any gators around here?!"

"Naw," the man hollered back, "Ain't been any for years!"

Feeling safe, the tourist started swimming toward the shore. About halfway there he asked the guy, "How'd you get rid of the gators?"

"We didn't do nothin'," the beachcomber said. "The sharks got 'em."

A man and his wife were ...

A man and his wife were having an argument in bed. He finally jumped up and took a blanket to the couch.

The next day the wife feeling bad about what happened decided to buy her husband a gift, and since he was an avid golfer she went to the pro shop where he usually played golf. She talked with the pro and he suggested a putter and he showed her one of his finest.

"How much is it?" she asked.

"One hundred and fifty dollars," he replied.

She felt that was kind of expensive and told him so.

"But it comes with an inscription," he said.

"What kind of inscription?" she asked.

"Whatever you wish," he explained, "but one of the old golfers favourites is, 'NEVER UP, NEVER IN."

"Oh, that will never do!" exclaimed the wife. "That's what started the argument in the first place!"

Mathematical Sex

Wher...

Mathematical Sex

Wherein it is related how that Polygon of Womanly Virtue, your Polly Nomial (our heroine) is accosted by that Notorious Villain Curly Pi, and factored (oh, horror).

Once upon a time ( 1/T ), Pretty Polly Nomial was strolling across a field of vectors when she came to the boundary of a singularly large matrix. Now Polly was convergent and her mother had made it an absolute condition that she never enter such an array without her brackets on. Polly, however, who had changed her variables that morning and was feeling particularly badly behaved, ignored this condition on the basis that it was insufficient, and made her way amongst the complex elements.

Rows and columns closed in from all sides. Tangents approached her surface. She became tensor and tensor. Quite suddenly, two branches of a hyperbola touched her at a single point. She oscillated violently, lost all sense of directrix, and went completely divergent. As she reached a turning point, she tripped over a square root that was protruding from the erf and plunged headlong down a steep gradient. When she rounded off once more, she found herself inverted, apparently alone, in a non-Euclidian space.

She was being watched, however. That smooth operator, Curly Pi, was lurking innerproduct. As his eyes devoured her curvilinear coordinates, a singular expression crossed his face. He wondered, was she still convergent? He decided to integrate improperly at once.

Hearing a common fraction behind her, Polly rotated and saw Curly Pi approaching with his power series extrapolated. She could see at once by his degenerate conic and dissipative terms that he was bent on no good. "Arcsinh," she gasped.

"Ho, ho," he said. "What a symmetric little asymptote you have. I can see your angles have a lot of secs."

"Oh, sir," she protested, "keep away from me. I haven't got my brackets on."

"Calm yourself, My Dear," said our Suave Operator. "Your fears are purely imaginary."

"I, I," she thought, "perhaps he's not normal but homologous."

"What order are you?" the Brute demanded.

"Seventeen," replied Polly.

Curly leered. "I suppose you've never been operated on."

"Of course not," Polly replied quite properly. "I'm absolutely convergent."

"Come, come," said Curly, "Let's off to a decimal place I know and I'll take you to the limit."

"Never," gasped Polly.

"Abscissa," he swore, using the vilest oath he knew. His patience was gone. Coshing her over the coefficient with a log until she was powerless, Curly removed her discontinuities. He stared at her significant places, and began smoothing out her points of inflection. Poor Polly. The algorithmic method was now her only hope. She felt his hand tending to her asymptotic limit. Her convergence would soon be gone forever.

There was no mercy, for Curly was a heavyside operator. Curly's radius squared itself; Polly's loci quivered. He integrated by parts. He integrated by partial fractions. After he cofactored, he performed rungecutta on her. The complex beast even went all the way around and did a contour integration. Curly went on operating until he had satisfied her hypothesis, then he exponentiated and became completely orthogonal.

When Polly got home that night, her mother noticed that she was no longer piecewise continuous, but had been truncated in several places. But is was too late to differentiate now. As the months went by, Polly's denominator increased monotonically. Finally, she went to the L'Hopital and generated a small but pathological function which left surds all over the place and drove Polly to deviation.

The moral of our sad story is this:
'If you want to keep your expressions convergent, never allow them a single degree of freedom...'

An attorney ran over to the of...

An attorney ran over to the office of his client. “I can’t believe it!” said the angered attorney. “You sent a case of Dom Perignon to the judge in our case? That judge is as straight as an arrow. Now we’re certain to lose this case!” “Relax,” said the client, “I sent it in the prosecutor’s name.”