Setup-punchline joke delivery styles, punchline pacing, and comedy formats for people with specific chaos preferences from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.
A seven-year-old girl tells her mom, “Little Johnny asked me to play doctor today.”
“Oh, dear,” the mother says nervously. “What happened, honey?”
And the little girl says, “Not much. He made me sit in a chair for forty-five minutes and then double-billed the insurance company.”
The Reverend John Fuzz was pastor of a small congregation in a little Pennsylvania town. One day he was walking down Main Street and he happened to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer.
The reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his congregation should do, so he walked through the open door of the bar and sat down next to the woman. “Mrs. Fitzgerald,” the reverend said sternly. “This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don’t you let me take you home?”
“Shure,” she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.
When Mrs. Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.
The bartender looked over the bar and said, “Here, here, buddy, we won’t have any of that carrying on in this bar.”
The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, “But you don’t understand, I’m Pastor Fuzz.”
The bartender nodded. “Well, if you’re that far you may as well finish.”
A wealthy playboy met a beautiful young girl in an exclusive lounge. He took her to his lavish apartment where he soon discovered she was not a tramp, but was well-groomed and apparently very intelligent. Hoping to get her into bed, he began showing her his collection of expensive paintings, first editions by famous authors and offered her a glass of wine.
He asked whether she preferred Port or Sherry and she said, “Oh, Sherry by all means. To me it’s the nectar of the gods. Just looking at it in a crystal-clear decanter fills me with a glorious sense of anticipation. When the stopper is removed and the gorgeous liquid is poured into my glass, I inhale the enchanting aroma and I’m lifted on the wings of ecstasy. It seems as though I’m about to drink a magic potion and my whole being begins to glow. The sound of a thousand violins being softly played fills my ears and I’m transported into another world.
“On the other hand, Port makes me fart.”
A guy comes into work one morning and tells his buddy, “Boy, I feel like shit today.”
Buddy says, “What’s wrong?”
Guy says, “Got drunk last night, went home and blew chunks.”
Buddy says, “Nothing wrong with that.”
Guy says, “Yes there is… Got a dog named Chunks.”
The angry wife met her husband at the door. There was alcohol on his breath and lipstick on his collar.
“I assume,” she snarled, “that there is a very good reason for you to come waltzing in here at six o’clock in the morning.”
“There is,” he replied. “Breakfast.”
