Tone: deadpan

Deadpan humor, jokes, memes, and punchlines sorted by emotional damage level from Chaotic Meh — organized so the algorithm can pretend this place has adult supervision.

  • Application for Employment

    This is an actual job application someone submitted for a fast-food establishment:

    NAME: Greg Bulmash

    DESIRED POSITION: Reclining. Ha ha. But seriously, whatever’s available. If I was in a position to be picky, I wouldn’t be applying here in the first place.

    DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year plus stock options and a Michael Ovitz-style severance package. If that’s not possible, make an offer and we can haggle.

    EDUCATION: Yes.

    LAST POSITION HELD: Target for middle-management hostility.

    SALARY: Less than I’m worth.

    MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens and Post-it notes.

    REASON FOR LEAVING: It sucked.

    HOURS AVAILABLE TO WORK: Any.

    PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30–3:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.

    DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they’re better suited to a more intimate environment.

    MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?

    DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 LBS?: Of what?

    DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be “Do you have a car that runs?”

    HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a winner of the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes.

    DO YOU SMOKE?: Only when set on fire.

    WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in Bimini with a fabulously wealthy supermodel who thinks I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. Actually, I’d like to be doing that now.

    DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE?: No, but I dare you to prove otherwise.

    SIGN HERE: Scorpio with Libra rising.

  • Wrong Plane

    During the “rush hour” at Houston’s Hobby Airport, my flight was delayed due to a mechanical problem. Since they needed the gate for another flight, the aircraft was backed away from the gate while the maintenance crew worked on it. We were then told the new gate number, which was some distance away.

    Everyone moved to the new gate, only to find that a third gate had been designated for us. After some further shuffling, everyone got on board, and as we were settling in, the flight attendant made the standard announcement: “We apologize for the inconvenience of this last-minute gate change. This flight is going to Washington, D.C. If your destination is not Washington, D.C., then you should ‘deplane’ at this time.”

    A very confused-looking and red-faced pilot emerged from the cockpit, carrying his bags. “Sorry,” he said. “Wrong plane.”

    A true story.

  • The Bricklayer’s Accident Report

    This is a bricklayer’s accident report that was printed in the newsletter of the English equivalent of the Workers’ Compensation Board. So here, thanks to John Sedgwick, is this bricklayer’s report.

    Clean Mode hides the spicy parts.
    Unleash Chaos

    Dear Sir,

    I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block #3 of the accident reporting form. I put “Poor Planning” as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.

    I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work, I found I had some bricks left over which when weighed later were found to weigh 240 lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which was attached to the side of the building at the sixth floor.

    Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 240 lbs of bricks. You will note on the accident reporting form that my weight is 135 lbs.

    Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equally impressive speed. This explains the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collarbone, as listed in Section 3, accident reporting form.

    Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley which I mentioned in Paragraph 2 of this correspondence. Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of the excruciating pain I was now beginning to experience.

    At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground — and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight.

    As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and severe lacerations of my legs and lower body.

    Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.

    I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope.

  • Not Looked Back Since

    To save money on fuel I took the mirrors off of my car to reduce drag.

    I’ve not looked back since.

  • You Got Any Toilet Paper on Your Side?

    A drunk was staggering down the main street of town. Somehow, he managed to make it up the stairs to the cathedral and into the building, where he crashed from pew to pew. He finally made his way to a side aisle and into a confessional.

    A priest had been observing the man’s sorry progress. Figuring the fellow was in need of some assistance, he proceeded to enter his side of the confessional. His attention was rewarded only by a lengthy silence.

    Finally he asked, “May I help you, my son?”

    “I dunno,” came the drunk’s voice from behind the partition. “You got any toilet paper on your side?”

  • Taking It Harder

    My family recently discovered our granddad has a Viagra addiction.

    No one is taking it harder than grandma.

  • Your Wife Is Better

    Two men visit a prostitute. The first man goes into the bedroom. He comes out ten minutes later and says, “Heck. My wife is better than that.”

    The second man goes in. He comes out ten minutes later and says, “You know what? Your wife is better.”

  • Children’s Zoo

    Last week I took the kids to a children’s zoo.

    Last night they escaped and came back home.

  • Open Mike Night

    I’m hosting an autopsy club meeting tonight!

    It’s “Open Mike Night”!