Best New Jokes: October 31, 2011



When I got home last night, my wife demanded that I take her someplace expensive. I took her to a gas station.

That’s when the fight started….

I tried to talk my wife into buying a case of Miller Light for $14.95. Instead, she bought a jar of cold cream for $7.95. I told her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.

That’s when the fight started.

My husband and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table. My husband asked, ‘Do you know him?’

‘Yes,’ I sighed, ‘He’s my old boyfriend. I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago, and I hear he hasn’t been sober since.”

”My God!’ says my husband, ‘Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?’

And that’s when the fight started.


Aunt Mildred was a 93-year-old woman who was particularly despondent over the recent death of her husband. She decided that she would just kill herself and join him in death.

Thinking that it would be best to get it over with quickly, she took out his old Army pistol and made the decision to shoot herself in the heart, since it was badly broken in the first place.

Not wanting to miss the vital organ and become a vegetable and a burden to someone, she called her doctor’s office to inquire as to just exactly where the heart would be on a woman.

The doctor said, ‘Your heart would be just below your left breast.’

Later that night, Mildred was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound to her knee.


I am seeing five gentlemen every day.

As soon as I wake up, Will Power helps me get out of bed. Then I go to see John.

Then Charlie Horse comes along, and when he is here, he takes a lot of my time and attention.

When he leaves, Arthur Ritis shows up and stays the rest of the day. He doesn’t like to stay in one place very long, so he takes me from joint to joint.

After such a busy day, I’m really tired and glad to go to bed with Ben Gay.

What a life! Oh, yes, I’m also flirting with Al Zymer

I’m thinking of calling JACK DANIELS or JOHNNY WALKER to come and keep me company.

Life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes.


I’m passing this on as I did not want to be the only old fart receiving it.
Actually, it’s not a bad thing to be called, as you will see. Old Farts are
easy to spot at sporting events; during the playing of the Star Spangled

Old Farts remove their caps and stand at attention and sing without
embarrassment. They know the words and believe in them.

Old Farts remember World War II, Pearl Harbor, Guadalcanal , Normandy and
Hitler. They remember the Atomic Age, the Korean War, The Cold War , the Jet
Age and the Moon Landing. They remember the 50 plus Peacekeeping Missions
from 1945 to 2005, not to mention Vietnam ..

If you bump into an Old Fart on the sidewalk he will apologize. If you pass
an Old Fart on the street, he will nod or tip his cap to a lady. Old Farts
trust strangers and are courtly to women.

Old Farts hold the door for the next person and always, when walking, make
certain the lady is on the inside for protection.

Old Farts get embarrassed if someone curses in front of women and children
and they don’t like any filth or dirty language on TV or in movies.

Old Farts have moral courage and personal integrity. They seldom brag unless
it’s about their children or grandchildren.

It’s the Old Farts who know our great country is protected, not by
politician’s, but by the young men and women in the military serving their

This country needs Old Farts with their work ethic, sense of responsibility,
pride in their country and decent values.

We need them now more than ever.

Thank God for Old Farts!


Are you lonesome tonight?
Does your tummy feel tight?
Did you bring your Mylanta and Tums?

Does your memory stray,
to that bright sunny day,
when you had all your teeth and your gums?

Is your hairline receding?
Your eyes growing dim?
Hysterectomy for her,
And its prostate for him.

Does your back give you pain?
Do your knees predict rain?
Tell me dear are you lonesome tonight?

Is your blood pressure up?
Good cholesterol down?
Are you eating your low fat cuisine?

All that oat bran and fruit,
Metamucil to boot.
Helps you run like a well-oiled machine.

If it’s football or baseball,
He sure knows the score.
Yes, he knows where it’s at
but forgets what it’s for.

So your gallbladder’s gone,
but your gout lingers on,
tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

When you’re hungry, he’s not,
When you’re cold, he is hot,
Then you start that old thermostat war.

When you turn out the light,
He goes left and you go right,
then you get his great symphonic snore.

He was once so romantic,
so witty and smart;
how did he turn out to be such
a cranky old fart?

So don’t take any bets,
It’s as good as it gets,
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?


Newspapers have the tightest deadlines in all of publishing and unnoticed bloopers often slip through into type.

One small-town editor found himself beset with letter from several town eagle-eyes, pointing out to him mistakes in his copy.

He decided to deal with the problem by printing the following notice in the paper. “If you find an error, please understand it is there for a purpose.

“We try to publish something for everyone, and some people are always looking for something to criticize.”


Count your blessings instead of your crosses.
Count your gains instead of your losses.

Count your joys instead of your woes.
Count your friends instead of your foes.

Count your smiles instead of your tears.
Count your courage instead of your fears.

Count your full years instead of your lean.
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.



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