jokes

[Astroman 0]

Does any  one in,simtorpolis has any good jokes.And if any one does not have any jokes 

here are some of my jokes. 

One day,George,A computer programer who was on breake in his cubicle writing a movie review.Then one of his friend name Bill stop and ask George what the movie about then he replyd back to Bill.then George it's about computers and hacking and programming then Bill ask what do you give it a rateing Then George siad back to Bill i give it a c++ then Bill ask how come you give it a c++ then George reply back because theme is all about computers hacking and programming.

[SpecialEddie 3]

Not a very funny joke...

[Poetic 0]

It would have been funnier if you left the last bit out. Just let George reply with "I gave it a C++." Everyone knows "why" he gave it a C++ and having him explain it just makes the punch line seem redundant.

[Firebird 40]

Why did the chicken cross the road?

[Poetic 0]

Dang it... I think i've heard this one before. Forgot the punchline. Ok, I give. Why?

[1973tr6 0]

To prove to the armadillo that it could be done.

[owenluby 1]

This one is retorical...

Why does your nose run, and your feet smell?

[Praetorian Cohort 0]

Here's one my friend told me in math the other day:

1,000 Purple Golf Balls

So there's this man, and money means nothing to him.  He controls half the money in the world; he can do whatever he want.  He has a son, and when his son graduates from high school his dad is happy for him.  He offers to buy his son whatever he wants, because, as previously stated, he can do pretty much whatever he wants.  His son asks for 1,000 purple golf balls.  The father asks why the son wants 1,000 purple golf balls, and if he'd rather have something else, but the son insists on having 1,000 purple golf balls, so he gets them.  Later, when he graduates from college, his dad is excited for him, and once again offers to buy his son whatever he wants.  The son once again requests 1,000 purple golf balls.  His father once again asks him why he wants 1,000 purple golf balls, pressing him a bit more this time, but his son refuses to tell him.  He gets the golf balls.  Later in life, the son becomes a successful businessman, and when he makes his first billion dollars, his father is extremely happy for him, and offers to buy him whatever he wants.  The son once again asks for 1,000 purple golf balls.  The father presses him even more this time, demanding to know why he wants 1,000 purple golf balls over anything else in the world, but the son once again refuses to tell his father, and gets the purple golf balls.  A decade later, the son is involved in a car accident that has left him in critical condition.  His father rushes over to see him, and when he arrives he can tell that his son will not live much longer.  The father then asks his son if he will tell him why he wanted 1,000 purple golf balls every time he was offered something, and the son agrees to tell him.  He says, "The reason I wanted 1,000 purple golf balls was...

wait for it...

... and then the son dies.

The End.

[hamsterTK 93]

I saw that coming....

[cityhawk 12]

Originally posted by: Praetorian Cohort Here's one my friend told me in math the other day:

1,000 Purple Golf Balls

So there's this man, and money means nothing to him.  He controls half the money in the world; he can do whatever he want.  He has a son, and when his son graduates from high school his dad is happy for him.  He offers to buy his son whatever he wants, because, as previously stated, he can do pretty much whatever he wants.  His son asks for 1,000 purple golf balls.  The father asks why the son wants 1,000 purple golf balls, and if he'd rather have something else, but the son insists on having 1,000 purple golf balls, so he gets them.  Later, when he graduates from college, his dad is excited for him, and once again offers to buy his son whatever he wants.  The son once again requests 1,000 purple golf balls.  His father once again asks him why he wants 1,000 purple golf balls, pressing him a bit more this time, but his son refuses to tell him.  He gets the golf balls.  Later in life, the son becomes a successful businessman, and when he makes his first billion dollars, his father is extremely happy for him, and offers to buy him whatever he wants.  The son once again asks for 1,000 purple golf balls.  The father presses him even more this time, demanding to know why he wants 1,000 purple golf balls over anything else in the world, but the son once again refuses to tell his father, and gets the purple golf balls.  A decade later, the son is involved in a car accident that has left him in critical condition.  His father rushes over to see him, and when he arrives he can tell that his son will not live much longer.  The father then asks his son if he will tell him why he wanted 1,000 purple golf balls every time he was offered something, and the son agrees to tell him.  He says, "The reason I wanted 1,000 purple golf balls was...

wait for it...

... and then the son dies.

The End. quote>

I heard that one last year. I HATE "jokes" with that kind of ending!

[1973tr6 0]

Then there's the one about the mult-quadrillion-aire who inherited the biggest brick factory in the world when his father died suddenly.  Well . . . he didn't want the brick factory so he fired all the workers and closed the factory doors.  But then he still had all these milions and millions and millions of bricks in the factory's inventory that he didn't want and had to get rid of somehow.  A friend of his suggested that he use them to build a city.  So . . . he hires the world's most famous architect and tells him to build him a city of bricks, and if he uses up all the bricks he will pay him $10 billion.  But the catch is he wants the architect to use up all the bricks and the ENTIRE city is to be made of bricks. The City Hall is to be made of bricks.  The schools, grade, middle, and high, are to be made of bricks.  The hospital is to be made of bricks.  The library is to be made of bricks. The health clinic is to be made of bricks. The police and fire stations are to be made of bricks.  The municipal water works is to be made of bricks.  The municipal airport terminal and runways are to be made of bricks.  The country club at the municipal golf course is to be made of bricks.  The community center is to be made of bricks.  The streets are to be made of bricks.  The sidewalks are to be made of bricks.  The alleys are to be made of bricks.  The walkways in the public parks are to be made of bricks.  The . . . well, you get the idea.

So, the architect goes to work.  He has a contractor build a city made of bricks.  The City Hall is made of bricks.  The schools, grade, middle, and high,  are made of bricks.  The hospital is made of bricks.  The library is made of bricks. The health clinic is made of bricks. The police and fire stations are made of bricks.  The municipal water works is made of bricks.  The municipal airport terminal and runwys are made of bricks.  The country club at the municipal golf course is made of bricks.  The community center is made of bricks.  The streets are made of bricks.  The sidewalks are made of bricks.  The alleys are made of bricks.  The walkways in the public parks are made of bricks.  The . . . well, you get the idea.

When the contactor is finished building the city, the architect calls the multi-quadrillion-aire to come and inspect the city.  As they tour the huge and impressive city the multi-quadrillion-aire comments excitedly "Very nice" or "Excellent" or "I like this" or  "This is very good" or something such like that here and there throughout the city.  They finally enter the grounds of what used to be the brick factory and the multi-quadrillion-aire sees something lying on the ground over in the corner.  He walks over and picks it up.  It is . . . a brick.  Handing the brick to the architect he says "I said you would not be paid if you did not use up all of the bricks.  It appears that you in fact did not use all the bricks so I refuse to pay you."

The architect smiles, takes the brick from the multi-quadrillion-are, tosses it over his shoulder, and walks off.

[A Nonny Moose 8,262]

Three boys emigrate from England to Austrailia to  seek their forturnes.  They keep in touch with their old mum by letter.

After arriving safely in Sydney, the first son gets a job with the Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Company (HSBC these days), and goes to work to be promoted as high as he can go.

The second son gets a job doing fibre-optic installations for an Internet Service Provider.

The third son, who is agriculturally inclined, goes to work on a sheep station in the outback.

After five years, the three boys meeting in Sydney and write a letter to their mum.

Dear Mum,

Billy has made a fortune in the Bank.  He was working in the investment department and got a tip on a stock.  He was able to buy in, and is now independently wealthy.  Naturally he has retired from the bank.

Joe now owns the ISP.  He invested in the Employee Stock plan and reinvested his earnings in the company.  But he has just put in his resignation as CEO and Chairman of the board, and retired.

Sam has worked hard on the sheep station and married the owner's daughter.  Recently, the owner shuffled off this mortal coil, so Sam and his wife now own the station.

Mum, Sam has invited us to join him with out families on the station and we have agreed.  We have decided that sheep ranching is just the thing to keep us busy since we now have no special needs.  The only trouble we have is that we need a new name for the station.  Would you suggest one for us?

Love

Billy, Joe and Sam.

Well, the letter arrived in Manchester, where their mum was living, and she immediately cabled that they should call the place Focus.

Her friend Agnes asked, "Why did you want them to call it Focus, Tillie?"

Tilly replied, "That's where the sons raise meat".

[1973tr6 0]

Then there's the one about the Gray-Hair Tours non-stop, transcontinental bus trip.  Everybody knows what the Gray-Hair tours are, don't they??  It's a bunch of oldies that get a real good group rate on a trip or tour of some kind, like "6 nights - 7 days in Rome" or some such.  These tours are usually put together by travel agents and the people don't necessarily know anybody else on the trip, unless friends or neighbors plan it together as a "sub-group."

Anyhow, this group of gray-hairs had chartered the GHT bus for a non-stop transcontinental bus trip from New York City to Los Angeles.  The tickets were paid in full in advance and non-refundable, non-transferable.

The day of the start of the trip arrives and the gray-hairs start to gather at the bus station prior to loading the bus and taking off.  There was excitement in the air!!  "I'm going to Los Angeles to my granddaughter's wedding" said one older person.  "I'm going to visit my favorite niece" said another.  Yet a third said "I'm retiring and moving to California.  This trip is to buy a house and arrange for the move."  An older couple chimed in together "We're going to retrace our homeymoon steps."  Everybody was in high spirits and eagerly awaiting the start of their trip.

Finally it was time to load the bus.  People started to get on in ones and twos or small groups of three or four who wanted to sit near each other.  One rather large older gentleman slowly climbed the bus steps and carefully made his way to an empty seat near the rear of the bus.  Slowly all the other seats were taken until the one with the very large older gentleman was the only empty seat left.  The bus driver announced that they were awaiting the arrival of the last passenger and would leave as soon as she was aboard.

At last the final passenger arrived.  It was a very frail-looking, white-haired, grandmotherly-looking very old lady with a huge hand-bag that had knitting needles sticking out of it.  No sooner had she got all the way on the bus than the bus driver shut the door and started the bus.  They were off!!  The trip had started, there was no turning back, no stopping.  Since the only empty seat left was next to the very large older gentleman, the little old lady was forced to sit next to him.

All went well for a short while, until the little old lady opened her hand-bag to get out her knitting.  Suddenly, a small lap-dog poked his head out of her hand-bag and gave a little yip.

The very large older gentleman looked at the dog and said: "Madam, I must ask that you change seats, as I am deathly allergic to dogs and fear that, even though your dog is rather small, I will suffer an allergic reraction to him"

The little old lady stood up and looked around the bus.  "There are no other empty seats," she said, sittin back down angrily.  "I will just have to stay sitting here and you are just going to have to suffer with your allergy."

"In that case," said the rather large elderly gentleman, "If you won't change seats or get rid of our dog, I must do the only thing I can do to alleviate the allergic effects of your dog on myself."  With that being said, he pulled a VERY large cigar out of his jacket pocket and proceeded to light it up.

The little old lady looked at the very large elderly gentleman and said, "Sir, I must ask you to please extinguish that cigar as I am deathly allergic to smoke of any kind and cigar smoke in particular."

The very large elderly gentleman glared at the little old lady and replied, "If you get rid of your dog I'll put out my cigar."

To this, the little old lady retorted, "I won't get rid of my little Percy, he's my friend and has been with me for over 15 years.  Why, he's closer to me than a member of my own family.  I WON"T get rid of him.  But I insist that you extinguish that cigar."

The very large elderly gentleman snapped back, "If you won't get rid of that dog, then I won't get rid of my cigar!!"

They went back and forth at each other for many miles, each reply or retort being more heated and louder than the previous, tempers rising all the time.  The very large elderly gentleman was getting so mad his face was turning as red as a beet.  The little old lady was getting so upset she was sarting to shake all over.

Finally, in the highest fit of temper yet, the very large elderly gentleman yelled at the little old lady, "I insist that your dog be gotten rid of!!"  With that, he grabbed the dog out of the little old lady's hand-bag, slammed the bus window open, and tossed the dog out.  He sat back down with a self-satisfied smile on his face and sneered at the little old lady.

The lttle old lady sat there shaking, her eyes wide in fright, a look of utter dismay on her face.  "You beast!" she screamed at the very large elderly gentleman.  Standing up, she grabbed the cigar out of his mouth and threw it out the window.  "There!!" she glared at him, shutting the window and sitting back down.

Well . . . needless to say, both the very large elderly gentleman and the grandmotherly-looking little old lady were both so upset they could hardly think, let alone speak.  So, the bus trip proceeded in relative silence.  The miles passed under the bus's humming tires.  The days reeled by, accompanied by the silence in the bus.  Neither the very large elderly gentleman nor the frail, grandmotherly-looking little old lady would look at the other or in any way acknowledge their presence.

Finally, after several days of travelling in silence, the bus reached the end of the journey.  Los Angeles!!  Both breathing sighs of relief, the very large elderly gentleman and the frail, grandmotherly-looking very old lady prepared to disembark from the bus.  Standing around, waiting for their luggage to be unloaded, the little old lady glanced back the road behind the bus and gasped.  "Percy!!" she said.

The very large elderly gentleman looked back and saw that, it was indeed Percy, happily trotting up the road toward his mistress.  And . . . can you guess what he had in his mouth???

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wait for it

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wait for it

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keep waiting

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While you're waiting, I would like to propose another thread.  The first person posts the punch line to a joke.  The next person must post the correct joke that goes with that punch line, and then posts another punch line.  The "winner" is the person who posts a punch line that no one knows the joke for.  (No profanity or ethnically offensive jokes allowed!)

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Are you still waiting????

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Here it is . . . 

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Tthe brick from my other joke!!

They are called "time" jokes.  They take so long to tell (together) and are so lame that your friends may never talk to you again!!  Or at least they won't ever ask you to tell another joke at a party!!  LOL

[your_adress_here 11]

What's funny about the first one, where the architect throws the brik behind his shoulder? I just don't get it...

[1973tr6 0]

Read the second one!!  They're a matched set, you can't tell the 2nd one without telling the 1st one first.

[jacqulina 162]

some funny ones thanks lol

[Fred_Ginger 1]

(*looks and looks for the smiley that groans*)     1973tr6  you are really bad! John I didn't get your joke, but please, don't explain it to me!

[A Nonny Moose 8,262]

One shaggy dog story deserves another.  But we could do without all the stupid white space.

A native chief was feted by the local government, and as a celebration of his 40th anniversary as chief, he was given a very large, ornate arm chair.  After the ceremony, he didn't know what to do with it, so he stowed it in the loft area of his grass hut.

Later that night there was a thunderstorm with strong winds.  The chair fell on the chief and he was crushed and died under its weigh.

The moral of this story is "People who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones."

[DioAngel 1]

Astroman - I don't get it... didn't seem funny to me. 

Praetorian Cohort - that's weird.. I don't get it. LOL

Nobody - LOL your jokes are good! The last one that's kind of funny hehe.

[hamsterTK 93]

The lamest jokes ever

Wanna hear a dirty joke?

three white horses running through the mud

Pete and Repeat were walking down the street. Pete went away. Who was left?

Repeat

(start over)

A 3 legged dog walks into a bar crying. The bartender asks him whats wrong. He says

"Somebody shot my Paw"

[A Nonny Moose 8,262]

HansterTK:  Sick, sicker, sickest.

Three African lion hunters went out to find some lions on the veldt, but didn't have any success.  They went and saw the village shaman, and he advised them to make some fermented mare's milk and put it in the waterhole where the lions drank.  They did this, and the next morning they went to the waterhole and took the lions they found dead drunk on the ground.

And so it was that they were able to dine on the sotted lions.