Tone: ironic

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

  • The Glitter Washcloth

    I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week.

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    Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor’s office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am. I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 am. The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn’t have any time to spare. As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn’t going to be able to make the full effort.

    So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.

    I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in. Knowing the procedure, as I’m sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or some other place a million miles away.

    I was a little surprised when the doctor said, “My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven’t we?” I didn’t respond.

    After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal… some shopping, cleaning, cooking. After school when my 6-year-old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, “Mommy, where’s my washcloth?”

    I told her to get another one from the cupboard.

    She replied, “No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it.”

    Never going back to that doctor again… never.

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  • It’s Pronounced Quiche

    When Trump was still infesting the White House the first time around, he and Mike Pence were having breakfast.

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    The waitress asked Pence what he wanted and he replied, “I’d like a bowl of oatmeal and some fruit.”

    “And what can I get for you, Mr. President?” asked the waitress.

    Trump replied with his trademark lecherous leer, “How about a quickie this morning?”

    “Mr. President!” the waitress exclaimed. “How rude!” And she stormed away.

    Pence leaned over to Trump and whispered, “Mr. President, it’s pronounced quiche.”

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  • I Thought She Was an American

    At an isolated part of the beach at Cannes, a beautiful, young French girl threw herself into the sea. A young man off at a distance witnessed it and dashed into the water to save her. Unfortunately, he was too late. He brought the semi-nude body ashore and left it on the sand while he went to report the drowning. When he returned, he was horrified to discover a man making love to the corpse.

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    “Monsieur!” he exclaimed. “That woman is dead!”

    “Sacré bleu!” exclaimed the man, jumping up. “I thought she was an American!”

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  • A Talking Pig

    A teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to gather the building materials for his home.

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    She read, “And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow full of straw and said, ‘Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?’”

    The teacher paused, then asked the class, “And what do you think the man said?”

    One little boy raised his hand and said very matter of factly, “I think the man would have said, ‘Well, fuck me! A talking pig!’”

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  • The Charity Shop Cleaners

    I took my suit to the cleaners, who wanted to charge me $15.00. So I gave my suit to the charity shop next door.

    They cleaned and pressed it and put it in the window.

    I bought it for $4.50!

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  • Ask the Auctioneer If They Were All With the Same Cow

    A couple went to an agricultural show on a fine Sunday afternoon and were watching the bull auction.

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    The auctioneer announced, “A fine specimen, this bull reproduced 57 times last year.”

    The wife nudged her husband and said, “See! That was more than once a week!”

    The second bull was brought up and the auctioneer said, “Another fine specimen, this wonder reproduced 120 times last year.”

    Again the wife nudged her husband. “Hey, that’s more than twice a week. What do you say to that?”

    Her husband, getting really annoyed, still said nothing.

    The third bull was brought up, and the auctioneer announced, “And this extraordinary specimen reproduced 365 times last year!”

    The wife slapped her husband on the arm and shouted, “That’s once a day every day of the year! How about you?”

    Her husband yelled back, “Sure, once a day! Great! But, ask the auctioneer if they were all with the same cow!”

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  • The Secret Confessional

    One day I was talking to an acquaintance at church. He brought up the “secret confessional.” I was confused, and explained I had no clue what he was talking about.

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    “Oh, well,” he explained, “you see, if you go to the Church’s basement to the confessional and say the secret code, the parish priest will stand up, leave the priest’s compartment, and walk away. Stay put. In a few minutes, you’ll hear a woman open the door to the priest’s compartment. She’ll come inside, then open a latch at about waist height revealing a hole between the two compartments. Then, she’ll put her mouth at the end of the hole and… well, you get the rest.”

    “This is ridiculous! Why would a church ever allow that? How did you find out? Come to think of it, there’s no visibility between compartments — how do you know it’s a woman?”

    “I mean… c’mon, it’s a church for crying out loud. They’re not gonna allow any gay stuff.”

    I was pretty bemused by the interaction, and went straight to the Parish Priest.

    “Father, I have to speak with you. I heard a horrible rumor about our church. Someone claims that, if you go to Confessional in the basement and say a secret code, you, Father, will leave the priest’s compartment. Next, a woman will enter soon after. She’ll then reveal a hole in the wall where she then, well, *services* the men, I suppose.”

    The priest’s eyes grow wide. He starts, “How *DARE* you make such blasphemy in the house of the Lord. This is a Catholic church, good man. We uphold the word of God here. How dare you accuse a good Christian institution of such horrid depravity. To think, one could stoop so low as to insinuate that this fine Church could commit such sin; to think. Purely disgusting. I never in a hundred years would think someone could be so brazen as to accuse this church of allowing a woman into the Priest’s side of the confessional.”

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  • I’m Your Son’s Teacher

    A man was waiting in line at the supermarket when an attractive woman walked up to him and said, “Hi there, I think you’re the father of one of my kids.”

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    The man winced and asked, “Are you the stripper from my bachelor party I screwed on the pool table with all my buddies cheering while another stripper smacked my bare ass with a wet fish?”

    “Um, no,” the woman replied. “I’m your son’s teacher.”

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  • You’re in the Team for This Saturday

    Two 70-year-old men, Mike and Joe, have been friends all of their lives…

    When it’s clear that Joe is dying, Mike visits him every day.

    One day, Mike says, “Joe, we both loved football all our lives, and we played football on Saturdays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there’s football there.”

    Joe looks up at Mike from his deathbed. “Mike, you’ve been my best friend for many years. If it’s at all possible, I’ll do this favour for you.” Shortly after that, Joe sadly passes on.

    At midnight a couple of nights later, Mike is awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him.

    “Mike… Mike!”

    “Who is it?”

    “It’s me, Joe.”

    “Joe! Where are you?”

    “In Heaven,” replies Joe. “I have some really good news and a little bad news.”

    “Tell me the good news first,” says Mike.

    “The good news,” Joe says, “is that there’s football in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we’re all young again. Better still, it’s always springtime, and it never rains or snows. Our wives are there too, and young and pretty as ever! And best of all, we can play football all we want, and we never get tired!”

    “That’s fantastic,” says Mike. “It’s beyond my wildest dreams! So what’s the bad news?”

    “You’re in the team for this Saturday.”

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  • Hitman School

    Two men and a woman are going to hitman school…

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    Their teacher takes one of the men out into the hallway, points at a door and says, “In this room, we have your wife. Here’s a loaded pistol, go in and kill her.”

    The guy says, “OK.” He goes into the room and comes out a few minutes later. He says, “I love her, I can’t do it.”

    The teacher says, “You don’t have what it takes to be a hitman, get out of here.”

    The teacher then does the same thing with the other guy, with the same result.

    He then takes the woman out into the hallway, points at a door and says, “In this room, we have your husband. Here’s a loaded pistol, go in and kill him.”

    She goes into the room, and he hears a gunshot, and then all hell breaks loose. There’s yelling and screaming plus furniture being broken. After about 15 minutes of this, the woman comes out looking dishevelled and says, “Why the hell did you put blanks in the gun? I had to beat the son-of-a-bitch to death.”

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