A Greek and an Irishman are sitting in a cafe arguing over whose culture is superior.
The Greek sips on his latte and says, “My people built impressive temples to the sun and moon!”
“Aye,” says the Irishman, “and the Irish discovered the Summer and Winter Solstices.”
“My people were some of the finest mathematicians the world has ever known,” the Greek continues, “and they came up with the measurements we use for time!”
“That may be true,” says his companion, “but the Irish invented the first timepieces.”
Now the Greek takes a swig of his latte and prepares his killer final argument. “The Greeks came up with the concept of sex for pleasure!”
“Aye, and the Irish got women involved.”
A politician dies. He finds himself at the pearly gates meeting Saint Peter.
“Am I going to heaven?” asks the politician.
“Well, that’s no longer determined by what you did in life,” Saint Peter tells him. “Now, we let you see the other place, make your own decision, and live with the consequences. How about you check them out before saying yes or no?”
The politician agrees, and before he knows it, he’s waking up in a warm villa in what appears to be California wine country. When he enters the dining area he sees Satan in an Aloha shirt and straw hat mixing a mojito.
“This is hell?” asks the politician. “Yeah, wild isn’t it?” Satan replies. “Who could’ve ever thought the Fake News Media the church propagates with the other guy might paint us in a bad light?”
“I see your point,” says the politician as he nods, convinced.
Satan hands him a drink. It’s delicious. “Why don’t you take the day and see what we’ve got to offer?”
The politician agrees and immediately spends his morning golfing with billionaire heads of tech companies and foreign dignitaries while hordes of approving constituents applaud his every step. He eats lunch at a Guy Fieri-recommended sushi place, visits with Hollywood celebrities in the afternoon, then takes in a movie with his wife who’s now in her 25-year-old body.
As the couple makes it back home, they decide to make passionate love the likes of which they hadn’t explored during their honeymoon. After six hours of marital bliss, the politician falls asleep.
When he opens his eyes he sees Saint Peter again. “How was the other place?” Peter asks. “Honestly, this is going to sound weird,” the politician replies, “but I would honestly like to stay in hell.” “No, we’re good, it’s okay, I’ll send you back down there,” Saint Peter replies.
Peter snaps his fingers and the politician is back in hell, but this time the place is the stuff of nightmares with a lake of fire, raining blood, the screams of the innocent, all that stuff. As a minor demon leads the politician into a torture room he spies Satan with a red suit, forked tail, and hooves sipping on a martini in a glass wrapped with barbed wire.
“What happened?” asks the politician in disbelief.
“Let’s see if we can put this how you would best understand,” Satan says. “Yesterday we were campaigning. Today, you voted!”
A young woman goes to a bar and spies an old blind man sitting in one corner with a sign that reads, “Ladies, ask me about my special age-guessing talent!”
She approaches the old man. “How can you guess my age?”
“It’s easy young lady,” the old man croaks out in a hoarse voice. “I feel your breasts and I can get a very accurate age range based on touch. Because I’m blind, my sense of touch is so vivid it’s almost as if I gained ten new eyes!”
The young woman is a bit sketched out by this, but she agrees to the old man’s terms. He approaches her and feels her up pretty heavy.
After a minute or two, the young woman asks, “Okay, so how old am I?”
The old man cackles heartily and says “Clearly you were born yesterday to let me get away with this line of bullshit!”
That’s all for this week folks! We’ll see you next Friday!
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Why did the chicken cross the road?
To get diversity jurisdiction.
So, a chicken walks into a bar and orders a beer.
“I’m sorry” says the bartender, “But tonight’s the owner’s anniversary and we’re closing early. I’ve already given ‘last call’. Try the place across the road.”
Why did the lawyer chicken cross the road?
To get to the car accident on the other side.
That’s not nearly enough! A capable chicken would demand equity and inclusion jurisdiction as well.
I live for a world where a chicken’s motives are not constantly questioned.
An engineer dies and goes to Hell. He’s hot and miserable, so he decides to take action. The A/C has been busted for a long time, so he fixes it. Things cool down quickly. The moving walkway motor is jammed, so he unjams it. People can get from place to place more easily. The TV was grainy and unclear, so he fixes the connection to the satellite dish, and now they get hundreds of high def channels.
One day, God decides to look down on Hell to see how his grand design is working out and notices that everyone is happy and enjoying umbrella drinks. He asks the Devil, “What’s up?
The Devil says, “Things are great down here since you sent us an engineer.”
“What?” says God. “An engineer? I didn’t send you one of those. That must have been a mistake. Send him upstairs immediately.”
The Devil responds, “No way. We want to keep our engineer. We like him.”
God demands, “If you don’t send him to me immediately, I’ll sue!”
The Devil laughs. “Oh yeah? Where are you going to get a lawyer?”
A Lawyer and the Pope died at the same time, both went to heaven.
They were met at the Pearly Gate by St. Peter who conducted them to their rooms.
The Pope’s room was spartan with bare floor, army cot for a bed, and a single bulb for light.
They came to the Lawyer’s room.
It was huge with wall to wall carpeting, king sized water bed, indirect lighting, color TV, stereo, Jacuzzi and fully stocked bar.
The Lawyer said, “There must be a mistake. This must be the Pope’s room!”
St Peter said, “There’s no mistake. This is your room. We have lots of Popes, but you’re our very first Lawyer!”
A water bed, eh? So, black and orange shag carpet to go with it?
It’s an old joke, Lloyd.
Easy there Admiral. I was just reminiscing.
A pirate walks into a bar with a steering wheel attached to a codpiece. The bartender says, “Do you know you have a steering wheel attached to your crotch?” The pirate says, “Aargh, I do. It’s drivin’ me nuts!’”
The POTUS and Dr. Jill were out to dinner.
WAITER: Are you ready to order?
DR. JILL: Yes, I’ll have the Salisbury steak, and a glass of pinot noir.
WAITER: And the vegetable?
DR. JILL: He’ll have the junior patty melt, and cut that in small bites.
A postal customer walks into the post office, bearing a mauled and shredded article of attempted mail, marked with the standard “damaged mail” apology stamp.
CUSTOMER: This was delivered to my postal box.
POSTAL CLERK: Yes Sir, we very much regret the occasional damage to mail, as indicated by the stamped apology message.
CUSTOMER: But it’s completely indecipherable. I can’t even tell what it was or who it was from. What’s the point of even delivering something in a condition like this?
POSTAL CLERK: Well, Sir, we can’t just destroy mail.
Kids at the local high school are having a “career week”, where they go out and shadow various adults at work. The next Monday, Johnny presents his report on his week following Mr. Murphy, the undertaker.
“So, Mr. Murphy gets a call from a local hotel. They say they’ve got two bodies in one of their rooms, a man and a woman. So Mr. Murphy puts on his black greatcoat and his silk hat, grabs his fancy cane, and off we go to the hotel.”
“Well, we get into the room and, sure enough, there they are – a man and a woman, lying on the bed, stark naked. And the man has a great big erection sticking up. Well, Mr. Murphy knew just what to do. He steps up, grabs the shaft of the thing with one hand, and with his cane he gives it a sharp whack right across the knob of it.”
The teacher breaks in, “And what did that do?”
“Oh, it made all hell break loose,” said Johnny, “We were in the wrong room!”
Ms. Jones asks her second grade class to share a word they learned that starts with each letter of the alphabet.
“Okay, class. What’s a word that starts with the letter ‘A’?”
Immediately, Johnny raises his hand. But Ms. Jones knows Johnny has a foul mouth, and worries that Johnny will probably say something like “asshole,” so she calls on Amy instead.
“Apple.”
“Very good Amy! What about the letter ‘B’?”, Ms. Jones asks.
Johnny waves his hand vigorously, but she worries he’ll say “bitch.” She calls on Joey.
“Balloon.”
“Wow, very good Joey. What about ‘C’?”
Johnny is nearly jumping out of his seat and stabbing the air with his hand. But there’s no way that Ms. Jones will call on Johnny for a ‘C’ word. She calls on Alicia.
“Cookie.”
This goes on for a while. Eventually Ms. Jones gets to the letter “R.” All the other children except Johnny have been called on and only Johnny has his hand raised. For the life of her, Ms. Jones can’t think of any bad words that start with the letter “R.”
“OK, Johnny. What’s a word that starts with ‘R’?”
Johnny’s face lights up. “Rat!” he exclaims.
Relief sweeps over Ms. Jones.
“A big, fucking rat.”
What did the egg say to the boiling water?
It’s gonna take me a while to get hard; I just got laid by this chick.
What’s the difference between a young prostitute and an old prostitute?
A young prostitute uses Vaseline and an old prostitute uses PoliGrip!
Now you’ve hit bottom. No jury jokes today? Surely you can find one in the courthouse somewhere!
How many lawyer jokes are there?
Three. The rest are all true stories.