Narrative comedy formats, jokes, memes, and punchlines organized for easier doom-scrolling from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.
My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table.
I asked her, “Do you know him?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “He’s my old boyfriend. I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn’t been sober since.”
“My God!” I said. “Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?”
A guy finds an old lamp and gives it a rub. A genie pops out.
The genie says, “I will grant you three wishes, but there are rules. One wish has to be good for you, two have to be bad for you. And whatever you wish for, your ex-wife gets double.”
The guy thinks for a second and says, “Alright. For my first wish, I want a million-dollar mansion sitting on one hundred acres, with a safe inside that has ten million dollars in it.”
The genie snaps his fingers. “Done. And your ex-wife now has a two-million-dollar ranch on two hundred acres with a safe holding twenty million.”
The guy shakes his head but says, “Okay. For my second wish, I want you to give my ex-wife half of everything I have.”
The genie looks at him for a moment, then snaps again. “Done. Which means she now has to give you all of hers.”
The guy smiles. “Perfect.”
The genie says, “Alright, last wish. This one has to be bad for you.”
The guy takes a breath and says, “Fine. I want you to beat me half to death.”
The genie pauses, looks at him, then slowly smiles.
A guy is golfing at an upscale course and goes to hit the ball from the red tees. A staff member is driving by in his cart and grabs a megaphone: “Will the gentleman on hole four please move his ball back to the white markers, and not hit from the ladies’ tee box?”
The guy yells back, “Will the guy in the golf cart please shut the fuck up so I can take my second shot?”
The British Army found they had too many officers and decided to offer an early retirement bonus. They promised any officer who volunteered for retirement a bonus of £1,000 for every inch measured in a straight line between any two points in his body.
The officer got to choose what those two points would be.
The first officer who accepted asked that he be measured from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. He was measured at six feet and walked out with a bonus of £72,000.
The second officer who accepted was a little smarter and asked to be measured from the tip of his outstretched hands to his toes. He walked out with £96,000.
The third one was a non-commissioned officer, a grizzly old sergeant-major who, when asked where he would like to be measured, replied, “From the tip of my penis to my testicles.”
It was suggested by the pension man that he might want to reconsider, explaining about the nice big cheques the previous two officers had received. But the old sergeant-major insisted, and they decided to go along with him, providing the measurement was taken by a medical officer.
The medical officer arrived at the barracks in the UK and instructed the sergeant-major to “drop ’em,” which he did. The medical officer placed the tape measure on the tip of the sergeant’s penis and began to work back.
“Dear Lord,” the medical officer suddenly exclaimed. “Where are your balls?”
The old sergeant-major calmly replied, “Afghanistan.”
A cruise ship sails past a small island in the ocean, where a bearded man is shouting something while frantically waving his arms.
“Who is that?” a passenger asks the captain.
“I have no idea. Every year, when we pass by here, he goes crazy in exactly the same way.”
