Friday, July 3, 2009
a policeman was called to the Verrazanno Narrows Bridge to stop a man from committing suicide. he pulled up right as the man was about to go over the side. "don't do it!" he said. "you have so much to live for!" "bullshit!" said the guy. "i'm bankrupt, i'm under investigation by the SEC, and my fiancee, jennifer landingham, is cheating on me!" "THE jennifer landingham?" said the cop. "i know her. she's beautiful! she's something to live for!" the guy paused. "i guess... yeah, she is..." he said, starting to step away from the edge. "and she fucks like a wildcat. in bed her ass moves like a blender!" said the cop. the high point of the Verrazanno Narrows Bridge is 244 feet above the water.
what would happen if you crossed an eggplant with a boom box?
that could not happen.
fred: doctor, it hurts when i do this!
doctor derf: well, don't do that!
fred: but life without masturbation isn't worth living!
a man and a woman were walking in the mountains along a thin trail. suddenly, the ground gave way and the woman fell, only barely catching herself on a branch. "quick, go get help!" she said. "ok, honey! i love you!" he ran back along the trail towards the village. the path forked and even though there were PLENTY OF PEOPLE AROUND he didn't ask for directions and he got more and more lost. he finally made it to the village and got help but by the time he got back, his wife had plummetted to her death. he should have asked for directions but guys NEVER DO.
what did the hamburger say to the side of fries?
hamburgers cannot speak, we have made them mute so they aren't horrifying to eat.
what would you call a cross between a hyena and a manatee?
this joke has two punchlines, equally humorous. a) a hyenatee. b) a horrifying mental image.
i went to a german-russian restaurant, and an hour later i hit a jew in the face and then sent his family to the steppes!
one of my cats had a litter of kittens, and my five year old daughter, jesse, was amazed by the process. she cooed with delight as the first kitten was born, asked (i thought) very intelligent questions about biology and the birth canal, and danced and laughed while the mama cat licked the first kitten clean. the litter ended up being five cats, and it took a while, so i made dinner. while we were eating, jesse looked over at the pen where the birthing was finishing. "look, fluffles is hungry too! happy dinner, fluffles!" my wife and i looked on in horror. the fifth kitten was stillborn and fluffles was snout deep in its steaming, deformed corpse.
what did the politest child in the gulag get?
hope you're enjoying this ETERNITY OF FUNNY JOKES!
(for Brian Encino Man)
d.b. cooper's parachute malfunctions. he cuts it away, uses his safety. he plunges into the brackish waters of the corrottoman. my mother drinks white wine on the deck, sees d.b. cooper swim slowly to the shore. she pours another glass of wine. she goes to get another glass. she pours another glass of wine.
d.b cooper dripping wet. he walks to the deck. roughly, my mother grabs his arm, pulls him to her.
an hour during which my mother and d.b. cooper do things i will not describe.
d.b. cooper and my mother smoking, drinking white wine.
d.b. cooper: "thank you for... understanding."
my mother: "no, honey, it's fine."
d.b. cooper: "i wish i didn't have this... this kink."
my mother: "we're all wired a little off factory specifications, dear."
d.b. cooper: "yeah, but how many people have to leap from a helicopter with a malfunctioning parachute which they then need to cut away and use their back-up... how many people need to do all that in order to initiate sexual relations?"
my mother shrugs and pours another glass of white wine.
d.b. cooper seen parachuting to the supermarket. the convenience store. his chiropractors.
my mother drinking white wine.
my mother: "are you having an affair?"
d.b. cooper: "i could never. can you pour me another glass of white wine?"
my mother: "you seem to be parachuting quite a bit these days."
d.b. cooper: "well, it IS what i'm known for."
d.b. cooper falling from the sky, silhouetted by the red clay sun. my mother looking up with wonder.
what does the house look like to a man in freefall? what does my mother look like from 30,000 feet? i ask d.b. cooper over white wine.
"you couldn't understand it, son. you stay on the ground. you've never felt all your guts in your throat as you step from the plane. i've watched you, it takes you ten minutes to screw up the courage to step from a curb. there's nothing wrong with that. i myself am deathly afraid of spiders. so much as i will never understand the certain thrill of arachnology, you will never understand..."
well, it is my mother, after all. i certainly wouldn't, i suppose...
i ask my mother, who sits atop a pyramid of empty white wine bottles.
"son, i don't feel comfortable talking about..."
"do you see him as he falls? does this excite you?"
"i see him fall. i watch as the first parachute fails to deploy. i must admit, knowing that the process has been set in motion there is a certain frisson. but i doubt you could ever understand. you who requires rope and pitons to descend a flight of stairs. this isn't your fault. your father used to..."
"don't talk about father," i say.
paralyzed with fear in front of the bank of elevators. i can see my face in the polished doors. my psychiatrist on the phone, telling me again he will not have our session in the lobby, telling me that as a strict freudian he will charge me whether i come to the third floor or not.
my father at the base of the stairs, waving the January 1982 issue of Playboy.
"c'mon. c'mon you little pussy. c'mon you little pecker. you gotta come down some time. i know you wanna see this. hoo-ee." he glances at the magazine, shakes it so that the centerfold unfurls. "goddamn, i do declare. this is gonna jumpstart yer puberty, boy. this is gonna make your little balls drop. c'mon, boy. c'mon. mother of all saints, but this chick is smokin'."
quivering, i push a slinky over the lip of the stairs, watch it flip flip flip towards my father.