More Humour

[JTass]

I told my mom that she had penciled her eyebrows on too high. She looked surprised to hear it.

 

[StillStunned]

"Doctor, my penis has turned orange."
"That's strange. Undress and I'll examine it. In the meantime, has anything changed in your life? Your diet, perhaps?"
"Well, my wife recently left me, so I suppose I haven't been eating properly."
"I'm sorry to hear it! Why did she leave?"
"It was after I lost my job."
"Lost your job and then your wife? That must be awful!"
"Nah, it's not too bad. I can spend all day watching porn and eating Cheetos."

 

[AG31]

This has got to be an old one.

Patient: Doctor, I have an orgasm every time I sneeze.

Psychiatrist: So tell me what your problem is.

 

[AG31]

I would have put this in "Just One Line" if that weren't restricted to authors other than oneself. (Edit: I see that's not a restriction for Just One Line, in fact it's for your own stuff. What thread was I looking it?) It's not particularly funny. is there another thread where you can post your own one line inspirations? Anyhoo....

Hubby and I were musing about the possibility of remembering both errands we wanted to do on our way to summer digs. We're at an age where remembering anything requires effort. We wondered if we'd remember the second errand after performing the first. I said, "No. I'd be so flooded with pride that it would wash away all other thoughts."

I thought it had a ring. Glad I have AH to brag about such stuff.

 

[TarnishedPenny]

Q. What goes clip-clop, clip-clop, bang-bang, clip-clop?
A. A drive-by Amish shooting.

 

[Smuttyandfun]

Just read a list of...
"100 Things To Do Before You Die."
I'm surprised
"YELLING FOR HELP" wasn't one of them.

 

[Smuttyandfun]

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?
A: Pumpkin pi.

 

[MediocreAuthor]

In writing, tone can mean the difference between:

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

and

"Sorry, Daddy. I've been naughty."

 

[AG31]

Two ants were in a kitchen cupboard, the one in front began running rapidly. The one in back asked what was up. The one in front said, "It says 'Tear along dotted line.'"

 

[ChatterCock]

Two ants were in a kitchen cupboard, the one in front began running rapidly. The one in back asked what was up. The one in front said, "It says 'Tear along dotted line.'"

Funny, that’s what it said on my motorcycle licence. But when I actually did it…

 

[Astrotrain]

The pope walks into a mosque. The imam says "Why the wrong faith?"

 

[Duleigh]

I was talking to my literary agent this morning, he said "We're well on the way to your SECOND MILLION DOLLARS IN SALES!"

"WOW!" I said. Then I just had to ask, "When did I make that first million?"

"Oh, that? It just wasn't happening, we had to give up on that..."

 

[JTass]

Hotel Guest: "I'd like the adult movies in my room to be disabled, please."
Desk Clerk: "We only offer regular porn, you sick fuck!"

 

[Inkognito1]

What do you call a group of three carpooling Canadians?

Triple eh (AAA)

 

[Inkognito1]

I know the middle of a heist probably isn't the best time to mention this, but when I said I was a safe cracker, I meant I'm a chill white guy.

 

[Inkognito1]

Hi.

My name’s Inkognito1, and this is my villain origin story.

It all started when I was 17 and landed my first job at a small pizza joint. I was the dishwasher and phone answerer, a role that combined low authority with catastrophic potential.

On my very first day, I took my very first call. The customer rattled off their order, and I swear I heard them say they wanted dill pickles on their pizza.

And for reasons that still evade common sense, logic, and several branches of science, I wrote it down without hesitation, like pickles on pizza was a time-honored tradition and I was merely preserving cultural heritage.

I handed the ticket to the cook, who stared at it like I’d just served him legal papers.

“You sure about this?”

“Yup. Dill pickles,” I said, with the unearned confidence unique to teenagers and Disney villains right before the song kicks in.

He shrugged, cracked open a giant can of pickles like this was a Tuesday special, and laid them out across the pizza with the calm resignation of a man who'd stopped asking “Why” years ago.

Baked it. Boxed it. Sent it out.

About twenty minutes later, the phone rang again.

Same customer.

Let’s just say they were not exactly… dill-ighted.

We remade the pizza. Naturally.

No pickles this time.

And so, that dill disaster became my first official work memory, forever preserved like… well, a pickle.

 

[Inkognito1]

They say the head chef is acerbic.

I think he's just salty.

 

[YmaOHyd]

 

[Inkognito1]

There was a thread on another site where people were sharing wholesome stories about their cats peacefully lounging in their laps while they worked.

I also have a cat.

The similarities end there:

Pffft.

This whole "working with my cute foofoo kitty in my lap" scenario just isn't my reality, dawg.

I can’t get anything done with my cat around.

He climbs into my lap like he’s clocking in for his shift as Head of Dickstractions, ready to unionize for longer pet breaks and unlimited treats.

He demands relentless petting, and if I dare stop, he starts bonking his head into my hand like a tiny, furious ram late for a headbutting competition.

And if I ignore that?

RIP to me.

He gets petty.

And not the kind where I’m petting him.

He escalates straight to terrorism.

Immediate Defcon Fluff.

All-out warfare.

Psychological operations commence.

Emotional devastation imminent.

No survivors.

He launches onto the keyboard, locks eyes with me, and meowths, "Keep typing, and you'll be hiding your coffee mugs for the rest of eternity. Pets now, or the keyboard gets it. And so does your drink. And your snack bowl. You know who else doesn’t get pets? Gravity. Your move, Meal Ticket Pets Peasant. I hope you saved your work. And your ceramics."

 

[Inkognito1]

In what may be grounds for ceremonial exile from the Commonwealth, I, an American, had the audacity to write a British satire on map-making. It’s under a spoiler due to length and out of courtesy to anyone not emotionally prepared to witness such a crime.


EDIT: The spoiler is misbehaving. Clicking Reply will display the story. Thank you for your patience while I glare at the problem and attempt to google for a solution.

 

[SouthernCrossfire]

I apologize if this one has been submitted before. It's an old joke that was in the first adult magazine I ever saw and I still recall it. This retelling is slightly different but is pretty close:

Many years ago, two aliens landed landed their spaceship in the desert near an old-timey gas station that was closed for the night. Seeing the lone pump outside the building, they assumed it was an earthling so the younger alien approached and said, "Greetings, Earthling, we come in peace. Take us to your leader."

The pump, of course, didn't respond.

The younger alien was stumped and started to get peeved, but the older alien said, "I'd calm down if I were you."

The younger alien ignored the warning and repeated his greeting.

Again, there was no response. Now shocked and insulted by what he perceived to be the Earthling ignoring him and the creature's haughty attitude, he drew his ray gun and said impatiently, "Again, I say greetings, Earthling. We come in peace. Do not ignore us this way! Take us to your leader or I will fire!"

The older alien again warned his comrade saying, "You probably don't want to do that! I really don't think you should make him mad."

"Rubbish," replied the cocky, young alien. "I'll show him!" The younger alien aimed his weapon at the pump and opened fire, causing a huge explosion. A massive fireball roared towards them and blew the younger alien off his feet and deposited him a burnt, smoking mess about many yards away in a cactus patch.

When he finally regained consciousness sometime later, he refocused his three eyes, straightened his bent antenna, and looked dazedly at the older, wiser alien, who'd backed away just before the explosion, was standing over him shaking his big, green head.

'What a ferocious creature!" exclaimed the young alien, wincing from his burns. "He damn near killed me! How did you know he was so dangerous?"

The older alien leaned over, placed a friendly feeler on his crispy friend and replied, "If there's one thing I've learned during my intergalactic travels, you don't want to mess with a guy who can loop his penis over his shoulder twice and then stick it in his ear."

In what may be grounds for ceremonial exile from the Commonwealth, I, an American, had the audacity to write a British satire on map-making. It’s under a spoiler due to length and out of courtesy to anyone not emotionally prepared to witness such a crime.

Considering British mapmakers' long history of keeping secrets, I originally thought a blank "SPOILER" was the joke when I clicked on it several times and it kept coming up blank. I thought that was hilarious! Then the text finally worked for the actual joke.

 

[Inkognito1]

I apologize if this one has been submitted before. It's an old joke that was in the first adult magazine I ever saw and I still recall it. This retelling is slightly different but is pretty close:

Many years ago, two aliens landed landed their spaceship in the desert near an old-timey gas station that was closed for the night. Seeing the lone pump outside the building, they assumed it was an earthling so the younger alien approached and said, "Greetings, Earthling, we come in peace. Take us to your leader."

The pump, of course, didn't respond.

The younger alien was stumped and started to get peeved, but the older alien said, "I'd calm down if I were you."

The younger alien ignored the warning and repeated his greeting.

Again, there was no response. Now shocked and insulted by what he perceived to be the Earthling ignoring him and the creature's haughty attitude, he drew his ray gun and said impatiently, "Again, I say greetings, Earthling. We come in peace. Do not ignore us this way! Take us to your leader or I will fire!"

The older alien again warned his comrade saying, "You probably don't want to do that! I really don't think you should make him mad."

"Rubbish," replied the cocky, young alien. "I'll show him!" The younger alien aimed his weapon at the pump and opened fire, causing a huge explosion. A massive fireball roared towards them and blew the younger alien off his feet and deposited him a burnt, smoking mess about many yards away in a cactus patch.

When he finally regained consciousness sometime later, he refocused his three eyes, straightened his bent antenna, and looked dazedly at the older, wiser alien, who'd backed away just before the explosion, was standing over him shaking his big, green head.

'What a ferocious creature!" exclaimed the young alien, wincing from his burns. "He damn near killed me! How did you know he was so dangerous?"

The older alien leaned over, placed a friendly feeler on his crispy friend and replied, "If there's one thing I've learned during my intergalactic travels, you don't want to mess with a guy who can loop his penis over his shoulder twice and then stick it in his ear."



Considering British mapmakers' long history of keeping secrets, I originally thought a blank "SPOILER" was the joke when I clicked on it several times and it kept coming up blank. I thought that was hilarious! Then the text finally worked for the actual joke.

Sigh. The spoiler button and I have now been locked in a prolonged and deeply personal feud, and it is winning.

 

[SouthernCrossfire]

Inkognito1, I think hitting REPLY as you've edited above was how I finally got it to come up.

 

[MediocreAuthor]

Hi.

My name’s Inkognito1, and this is my villain origin story.

It all started when I was 17 and landed my first job at a small pizza joint. I was the dishwasher and phone answerer, a role that combined low authority with catastrophic potential.

On my very first day, I took my very first call. The customer rattled off their order, and I swear I heard them say they wanted dill pickles on their pizza.

And for reasons that still evade common sense, logic, and several branches of science, I wrote it down without hesitation, like pickles on pizza was a time-honored tradition and I was merely preserving cultural heritage.

I handed the ticket to the cook, who stared at it like I’d just served him legal papers.

“You sure about this?”

“Yup. Dill pickles,” I said, with the unearned confidence unique to teenagers and Disney villains right before the song kicks in.

He shrugged, cracked open a giant can of pickles like this was a Tuesday special, and laid them out across the pizza with the calm resignation of a man who'd stopped asking “Why” years ago.

Baked it. Boxed it. Sent it out.

About twenty minutes later, the phone rang again.

Same customer.

Let’s just say they were not exactly… dill-ighted.

We remade the pizza. Naturally.

No pickles this time.

And so, that dill disaster became my first official work memory, forever preserved like… well, a pickle.

At my local pizza shop, they today serve a pickle pizza.

It's just okay.

People love black olives on their pizzas (and those are basically just pickled olives). Why would pickled cucumbers be so odd?

 

[MediocreAuthor]

I don't remember if I shared this one before, so here it is (again?) slightly altered, because I changed the punchline a bit:

---

A man on his lunch break pulls up to the drive through at a local fastfood establishment.

He orders into the speaker: "I'd like to order a cheese burger meal, please."

The young girl at the register punches his order in and tells him to pull around.

After paying, he receives his food. Before pulling away, he takes a bite of the burger, and waves to get the young girl at the window.

"Is there a problem, sir?" She asks, politely?

"Uhh... Yeah, there's a fucking problem! This burger has pickles on it!"

The young woman looks perplexed; she is clearly new at this job. Eyes wide and nervous she begins, "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't hear—"

"You didn't hear?!" He snaps. "You have one fucking job, you stupid bitch, so maybe scrape the cum out of your ears and get my order right!"

Visibly shaken, she nods, tears starting to form at the edges of her eyes. "I'm... I'm sorry sir. We can exchange it for—"

"EXCHANGE?! Exchange my fucking ass! I'm gonna keep this sandwich, pick the gross-ass pickles off, and you're gonna remake my burger and do it right! Now go fix my order, before I report you to corporate and get you fired!"

The young girl steps away from the window, nervous and rattled. Before she can do anything however, she bumps into one of the cooks, who overheard the whole thing.

"I... I guess I heard his order wrong..." she sobs, "He's really upset! I don't wanna get fired..."

"Oh don't you worry," the cook smiles. "We'll take care of everything! Consider the situation handled."

The other two cooks in the back, upon learning about the situation, immediately understand the plan.

One sneaks a burger patty into the men's room and wipes it against the urinal. Another mixes a bit of snot with the mustard, while the other spits in the mayonnaise.

Before long, the three men have created the most vile, biohazardous burger imaginable... cleverly disgusted to be undistinguishable from a normal one.

The first cook return to the window with the tampered food wrapped up nice and nearly.

"We apologize for the mistake, sir." The cook says, with a smile. "Please accept this replacement burger on the house. We're sorry for the delay."

"It's about fucking time!" The man snaps, snatching the new bag, rolling up the empty wrapper from the first burger and tossing it out the window. He peels away from the restaurant and drives away.

Back at the office, he pops the burger into the office fridge.

Later that day, he returns to find the sandwich mysteriously gone: another item stolen by the notorious office-fridge thief.

And he just smiles...