Joke Type: observational

Observational jokes, punchlines, setups, and comedy bits from Chaotic Meh — sorted for people who know exactly what kind of bad idea they want.

  • Signs You Have a Drinking Problem

    You lose arguments with inanimate objects.

    You have to hold onto the lawn to keep from falling off the earth.

    Job interfering with your drinking.

    Your doctor finds traces of blood in your alcohol stream.

    Career won’t progress beyond Senator from Massachusetts.

    The back of your head keeps getting hit by the toilet seat.

    Sincerely believe alcohol to be the elusive fifth food group.

    Twenty-four hours in a day, twenty-four beers in a case. Coincidence?? I think not!

    Two hands and just one mouth … now THAT’S a drinking problem!

    You can focus better with one eye closed.

    The parking lot seems to have moved while you were in the bar.

    Every person you see has an exact twin.

    You fall off the floor.

    Your twin sons are named Barley and Hops.

    Hey, five beers has just as many calories as a burger — to heck with dinner!

    The glass keeps missing your mouth.

    Bill Clinton starts to make sense….

    Mosquitoes catch a buzz* after biting you. (*No pun intended.)

    At an AA meeting you begin: “Hi, my name is … uh …”

    Your idea of cutting back is less salt.

    The whole bar says ‘Hi’ when you come in.

    “Hi ocifer. I’m not under the affluence of incohol.”

    Roseanne looks good.

    Don’t recognize wife unless seen through bottom of glass.

    Senators Kennedy and Packwood shake their heads when they walk past you.

    You have a reserved parking space at the liquor store.

    You wake up in Korea in August and the last thing you remember is the Fourth of July party at the Halekulani in Waikiki.

    “BeerTender! Get me another Bar!”

    The shrubbery’s drunk too — from frequent watering.

  • Your Tit Is Hanging in the Ashtray

    A very inebriated lady walked into a bar shortly before closing time, sat at the bar and ordered, “Barbender, barbender, I would like a Martoutsy.”

    Clean Mode hides the spicy parts.
    Unleash Chaos

    The bartender brought her a Martini, which she drank in one gulp.

    “Barbender, I would like another Martoutsy.” Again, the bartender brought her a Martini.

    By this time the lady was leaning heavily forward, barely able to hang on. She called, “Barbender, your Martoutsys are giving me heartburn.”

    Patiently, the bartender came near her and said, “Lady, I am not a barbender, but a bartender, and what you have been drinking is not a Martoutsy, but a Martini, and finally, you do not have heartburn — your tit is hanging in the ashtray.”

  • Dear Alcohol

    Dear Alcohol,

    I thought I’d take a minute to discuss some troubling factors with you.

    First and foremost, let me tell you that I’m a huge fan of yours… your many sides and dimensions are mind-boggling (different than beer goggling, which I’ll touch upon shortly.)

    Yes, my friend, you always seem to be there when needed — the perfect post-work cocktail, a beer with the gang… and you’re even around in the holidays — hidden inside chocolates, you warm us when we’re stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings.

    Yet lately, I’ve been wondering about your intentions. You see, I want to believe that you have my best interests at heart, but I feel that your influence has led to unwise consequences, briefed below for your review:

    1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance or necessity occurs at 5 a.m.

    2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal and, though cooking is far from my speciality, why you suggested that I eat a kebab with chilli sauce coupled with a pot noodle and some stale crisps (washed down with chocolate Nesquik and topped off with a Kit Kat) is beyond me. Eclectic eater I am, but I think you went a bit too far this time.

    3. Clumsiness: Unless you’re subtly trying to tell me I need to do yoga more to increase my balance, I see no need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down the stairs. Completely unnecessary. Similarly, it should not take me more than thirty seconds to get the key into the front door lock.

    4. Pictures: This is a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the last point below, but the following costumes are heretofore banned from being placed on my head in public: Indian wigs, sombreros, bows, ties, boxes, upside-down cups, inflatable balloon animals, traffic cones, bras.

    5. Beer goggles: If I think I may know him/her from somewhere, I most likely do not. Please do not request that I go over and see if, in fact, I do actually know that person. This is similar to the old “Hey, you’re in my class” syndrome circa 1986 at SU, and should heretofore be rendered illegal. Coupled with this is the phrase “Let’s shag.” While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-to-mouth block that would keep this thought from being a statement, especially in public.

    Further, the subsequent hangovers have got to stop. Now, I know a little penance for our previous evenings’ debauchery may be in order, but the 2 p.m. Hangover Immobility is completely unacceptable. I ask that if the proper steps are proactively taken on my part (i.e. water, vitamin B, bread products, aspirin) prior to going to bed/passing out facedown on the kitchen floor with a bag of popcorn, the hangover should be quite minimal and in no way interfere with my daily Saturday or Sunday (or any day, for that matter) activities. Come on now… it’s only fair — you do your part, I’ll do mine.

    Alcohol, I have enjoyed our relationship for some years now, and want to ensure that we remain on good terms. You’ve been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when we just don’t know what to do with the extra money in our pockets. In order to continue this relationship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Friday at 6 p.m. (pre happy hour) on your possible solutions, and hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.

    Thank you for your prompt attention to these matters.

    Sincerely, your biggest fan.

  • Taco Bell’s Colon Cleanse

    I wonder if the people paying $300 for a colon cleanse know about Taco Bell’s $4.99 deal.

  • Turn The Car On

    Turn The Car On

    (Driving test)

    Instructor: Turn the car on

    Me: Umm ok. (rubbing interior) You like that? You filthy who-

    Instructor: Ok we’re done here

  • Social Distancing Dad

    Social Distancing Dad

    My dad must be really be taking this social distancing shit seriously, I haven’t seen him in 23 years

  • High Salary No Experience

    High Salary No Experience

    Her: You’re asking for a pretty high salary for someone who has no experience in this field.

    Him: Well, this job is gonna be super hard since I have no idea wtf I’m doing.

  • Piano Man Gay Bar

    Piano Man Gay Bar

    notquitesoancient: you know who’s gay? paul the real estate novelist who never had time for a wife and davey who’s still in the navy and probably will be for life

    mooncustafer: New headcannon: everyone in that song is gay except the Piano Man who has no idea he’s playing at a gay bar and the staff and regulars have a betting pool on how long he’ll take to finally figure it out. So far John is ahead.

    skeleton-richard: #that makes the ‘man what are you doing here’ line way funnier

  • You’re Next

    Old people at weddings always poke me and say, “You’re next.”

    So I started doing the same thing to them at funerals.

  • Beware of Doug

    Beware of Doug

    BEWARE OF DOUG

    ACME SALES CO.