An employee says to his boss, “Can we talk? I have a serious problem.”
The boss says, “Remember our motto: around here there are no problems — only opportunities.”
The employee nods. “Okay. I have a serious drinking opportunity.”
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.
A teacher asks her class, “Who can tell me a word that starts with the letter ‘A’?”
Little Johnny raises his hand, and the teacher thinks, I’m not calling on Johnny. He’ll say something like ‘asshole.’
So she calls on Suzy, who says, “Apple.”
“Very good!” says the teacher. “Now… who can tell me a word that begins with the letter ‘B’?”
Again, Johnny raises his hand, and the teacher thinks, I’m not calling on Johnny. He’ll say ‘bastard’ or ‘bitch.’
So she calls on Stephen instead, and Stephen says, “Balloon.”
This continues until they get to the letter G.
Again, Johnny raises his hand, and the teacher says to herself, I can’t think of a swear word that starts with G.
So she calls on Johnny.
“Gnome,” says Johnny.
Very surprised, the teacher says, “That’s excellent, Johnny! It does start with G, which is silent. Johnny, do you know what a gnome is?”
“Yeah,” says Johnny. “It’s the little shit who lives in my garden and fucks fairies.”
An old lady goes to the doctor and says, “Doc, I can’t stop farting. They’re silent with no smell, but I’ve let out 20 in the past five minutes sitting here.”
The doctor gives her some pills and tells her to come back next week.
The next week, the old lady comes back and says, “Doc, I took the pills. The farts are still silent, but now they stink!”
The doctor says, “Great! We’ve cleared your sinuses. Now let’s work on your hearing!”
A Chicago mob boss needed someone to collect protection money without talking to the police.
With cops watching closely, he had an idea.
“Get me someone who can’t talk. That way, if he gets picked up, he can’t talk to the cops.”
They bring in Pete — a big bloke who looks mean as hell. He doesn’t speak and communicates only in sign language.
By the end of the week, Pete has collected $50,000.
Then he disappears.
The boss sends two goons. They track Pete down easily, but he just stares at them, expressionless.
So they drag him to an interpreter.
One of the goons says, “Ask him where the money is.”
The interpreter signs it.
Pete shrugs and signs back, “No idea what you’re talking about.”
The interpreter says, “He says he doesn’t know anything.”
The goon pulls out a gun and presses it to Pete’s head.
“Ask him again.”
The interpreter hesitates, then signs again.
Pete immediately folds.
“Alright! It’s in Central Park, under a tree stump near 78th Street!”
The interpreter turns back to the goons and says, “He says he doesn’t know anything — and he thinks you don’t have the guts to pull the trigger.”
Plugging the hole in the row boat with my penis wasn’t a bad idea, but forgetting to take out my piercing barbell *was* — although the bass didn’t seem to think so.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until after I had spent three days eating nothing but beets and asparagus, and downing enough Karo syrup to kill a horse, that I realized maybe it was actually during a dream when I came up with my super-secret formula for “pissing Skittles.”
When I’m sitting in a restaurant with a date and she asks, “Do you mind if I smoke?” I always feel like saying, “No, but do you mind if I sit here beside you and discreetly masturbate under the tablecloth?”
Regrettably, I never do, since by the time she gets around to asking about the cigarette, I’m usually half finished and have no intention of stopping anyway.
When I face a problem, I stop and ask myself, “What would Jesus do?” It works. Drinking wine, sitting around talking, drinking more wine, telling parables, drinking more wine, and talking to God really does pretty much solve any problem I have. Now if only I could recruit a few disciples.