Friar's Club Encyclopedia of Jokes

by Barry Dougherty

  —JOEY ADAMS

  A bunch of old guys would sit around playing chess in the park all day. One day a new guy showed up. He was pretty wrinkled and had white hair and he got in a game with one of the old guys. After looking at the new guy for a while, the other guy said, “You know, I just noticed. You’re not wearing glasses, you got your real teeth, you got no hearing aid, you’re in pretty good shape.”

  The new guy said, “Well, when I was a kid my parents took me to the doctor and the doctor said that if I wanted to stay in shape I should make love with a woman four times a day. And that’s what I’ve been doing up to this very day.”

  “Really? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  —JAN MURRAY

  The four stages of man are infancy, childhood, adolescence, and obsolescence.

  —ART LINKLETTER

  I’ve got everything I had twenty years ago—except now it’s all lower.

  —GYPSY ROSE LEE

  Nowadays there’s a pill for everything—to keep your nose from running, to keep you regular, to keep your heart beating, to keep your hair from falling out. . . . Why, thanks to advances in medical science, every day people are dying who never looked better.

  When an actress told Bob Hope she was “approaching forty,” he couldn’t help wondering from what direction.

  “I’m only eighty, but I can have sex only about once a month or so,” complained George Burns to Doc Meylackson, treasurer of the Friars Club.

  “That’s natural,” said Doc.

  “Yeah,” Burns complained, “but Groucho Marx is eighty-five and he says he has sex twice a week.”

  “Okay,” said Doc, “you say the same thing.”

  At his annual checkup, Bernie was given an excellent bill of health. “It must run in your family,” commented the doctor. “How old was your dad when he died?”

  “What makes you think he’s dead?” asked Bernie. “He’s ninety and still going strong.”

  “Aha! And how long did your grandfather live?”

  “What makes you think he’s dead, Doc? He’s a hundred and six, and getting married to a twenty-two-year-old next week,” Bernie informed him.

  “At his age!” exclaimed the doctor. “Why does he want to marry such a young woman?”

  “And what makes you think he wants to?”

  —HENNY YOUNGMAN

  Naps are wonderful, aren’t they? Sometimes I have to take a nap to get ready for bed.

  —MARSHA WARFIELD

  I’ve reached an age when I look just as good standing on my head as I do right side up.

  —FRANK SULLIVAN

  There are three ages of man: youth, middle age, and “Gee, you look good.”

  —RED SKELTON

  My wife never lies about her age. She just tells everyone she’s as old as I am. Then she lies about my age.

  I was born in 1962. True. And the room next to me was 1963 . . .

  —JOAN RIVERS

  My doctor has a great stress test. It’s called “The Bill.”

  —JOEY ADAMS

  My, my—sixty-five! I guess this marks the first day of the rest of our life savings.

  —H. MARTIN

  Paul Putney had planned a trip to Paris for a very long time, and the day after his retirement, he was on a plane. When he returned, his old friend Herb met him at the airport, and asked, “Well, Paul, how was Paris?”

  “Oh, it was fine,” replied the weary traveler, “but I wish I’d gone twenty years ago.”

  “When Paris was really Paris, eh?” said Herb, sympathetically.

  “No,” he admitted, “when Paul Putney was really Paul Putney.”

  I know a guy who looks forty years younger than he is. When he’s not working, his wife must put a slipcover over him.

  Animals

  All creatures must learn to coexist. That’s why the brown bear and the field mouse can share their lives and live in harmony. Of course, they can’t mate, or the mice would explode.

  —BETTY WHITE

  What did one Hawaiian shark say to the other?

  “Oh, no—not airplane food again.”

  A little old lady is starved for companionship, so she buys a couple of monkeys. The years go by and she becomes very attached to them. As happens, both monkeys die one day. Not wanting to part with them, she takes the dead monkeys to a taxidermist. The taxidermist asks her, “Would you like them mounted?”

  The old woman replies, “No, just holding hands.”

  —GREGORY PECK

  Did you hear about the veterinarian and the taxidermist who went into business together?

  Their slogan was, “Either “Way, You Get Your Pet Back.”

  Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.

  —STEVEN WRIGHT

  Shirley had always wanted to see Australia, so she saved her money and went off on a two-week tour. She’d only been there three days when she fell head over heels in love with a kangaroo. So she blithely disregarded the advice of her tour guide and companions, had an aboriginal priest perform a wedding ceremony, and brought her new husband back to her house in the Midwest.

  But she found that the course of new love was not without its problems, and in a few months she decided to consult a marriage counselor.

  “Frankly, in your case it’s not hard to put my finger on the heart of the problem,” said the counselor almost immediately. “Besides the obvious ethnic and cultural differences between you and your husband, it’s clearly going to be impossible to establish genuine lines of communication with a kangaroo.”

  “Oh, that’s not it at all,” Shirley broke in. “My husband and I communicate perfectly—except in bed. There it’s nothing but hop on, hop off, hop on, hop off. . . .”

  The first grade class gathered around the teacher for a game of “Guess the Animal.” The first picture the teacher held up was of a cat. “Okay, boys and girls,” she said brightly, “can anyone tell me what this is?”

  “I know, I know, it’s a cat!” yelled a little boy.

  “Very good, Eddie. Now, who knows what this animal is called?”

  “That’s a dog!” piped up the same little boy.

  “Right again. And what about this animal?” she asked, holding up a picture of a deer.

  Silence fell over the class. After a minute or two, the teacher said, “I’ll give you a hint, children . . . it’s something your mother calls your father.”

  “I know, I know,” screamed Eddie. “It’s a horny bastard!”

  How many of those dead animals you see on the highway are suicides?

  —DENNIS MILLER

  Warren worked for a small mining operation, so he was used to the desolate little towns of the Southwest. But when he was sent to Dry Gulch for a couple of months, something seemed strange from the very beginning. One night when he was in the local saloon, he realized what it was.

  “Say,” he said to the bartender, “aren’t there any women in this town?”

  “Nope,” admitted the bartender. “The men here had so little to offer that all the women packed up and left years ago.”

  Warren’s face fell. “That’s pretty grim. What do the guys do on a Saturday night?”

  “They do it with pigs,” was the bartender’s cool reply.

  “Yecch!” Warren retched and left in disgust. But after a few weeks of total boredom, he found himself back in the saloon, and casually inquired as to where the pigs in question were to be found.

  The bartender was free with the information. “Just behind the farmhouse at the top of the hill.”

  One look at the pigs slopping around in the muddy pen was almost enough to send Warren back down the hill. But just as he was turning away, he spotted the cutest pig you could ever hope to see, with big brown eyes, a bow on the top of her head, and not a bit of mud on her little pink trotters. Quite smitten, he led her out of the sty, down the hill, and into the saloon for a drink. But to Warren’s surprise his arrival caused quite
a commotion, and all the seedy types backed away from him into the far corners of the bar. “Hey, what’s up?” asked Warren angrily of the bartender. “You told me everyone in the place goes out with pigs.”

  “True enough,” admitted the bartender, “but we weren’t expecting you to take the sheriff’s girl.”

  My brother had a hamster. He took it to the vet—it’s like bringing a disposable lighter in for repairs.

  —WAYNE COTTER

  The bitter Anatolian winter was almost over when one Armenian shepherd turned to the other and confessed that he could hardly wait until it was time to shear their flocks.

  The other shepherd nodded, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “It’s great selling the wool in the market and spending some of the money on raki and women, eh?”

  “That’s not it,” said his companion. “I just can’t wait to see them naked.”

  This guy went to the zoo one day. While he was standing in front of the gorilla’s enclosure, a gust of wind blew some grit into his eye. As he pulled his eyelid down to dislodge the particle, the gorilla went crazy, bent open the bars, and beat the hapless fellow senseless. When the guy came to, the zookeeper was anxiously bending over him, and as soon as he was able to talk he explained what had happened. The zookeeper nodded sagely and explained that in gorilla language, pulling down your eyelid meant “fuck you.”

  The explanation didn’t make the gorilla’s victim feel any better, and he vowed revenge. The next day he bought two large knives, two party hats, two party horns, and a large sausage. Putting the sausage in his pants, he hurried to the zoo and over to the gorilla’s cage, into which he tossed a hat, a knife, and a party horn. Knowing that the big apes were natural mimics, he put on a party hat. The gorilla looked at him, looked at the hat, and put it on. Next he picked up his horn and blew on it. The gorilla picked up his horn and did the same. Then the man picked up his knife, whipped the sausage out of his pants, and sliced it neatly in two.

  The gorilla looked at the knife in his cage, looked at his own crotch, and solemnly pulled down his eyelid.

  What do you get when you cross a porcupine with a tapeworm? About ten feet of barbed wire.

  Fernandez had made a lot of money in show business as a ventriloquist and decided to retire as a gentleman farmer. He found a farm he liked, but he thought it was somewhat overpriced, so he decided to have some fun with the farmer as they toured the outbuildings.

  “How’s the barn holding up?” he asked, turning toward the sway-backed horse in a corner stall.

  “The roof leaks and the tractor’s thirty-five years old,” replied the horse. The farmer, not realizing it was Fernandez throwing his voice, turned pale.

  “Mooo,” said the cow in answer to the ventriloquist’s next question. “My stall’s falling apart and the feed’s all moldy.”

  The farmer started to quake.

  Next were the chickens. “Need a new coop, holes in the wire,” they cackled.

  “Just a dang minute,” interrupted the farmer, grabbing his prospective buyer by the shoulders. “Don’t talk to the sheep—they lie.”

  What’s the best way to stop a runaway horse?

  Bet on it.

  As a merchant in the caravan business, Ahmed was well aware that a neutered camel can go longer and further without water than one which has not been neutered. But although he knew he was losing money, he couldn’t bear the thought of inflicting such pain on his lead camel, which was really more of a pet than a beast of burden.

  “Walking through the bazaar one day, he found the solution to his dilemma: a sign that read “Camels Gelded Without Pain.” Making inquiries of the stall’s proprietor, he was assured that the operation was quick and absolutely painless. There would be no suffering. A price was negotiated and the merchant returned the next day with his favorite camel in tow. The camel gelder picked up two bricks, approached the camel from the rear, took aim, and smashed the bricks together with a sound like a thunderclap. With a bellow of agony, the camel collapsed to its knees.

  The merchant was horrified. “You promised it would be painless!” he cried, cradling his camel’s head.

  “Why it is,” explained the gelder, “as long as you don’t get your thumbs caught between the bricks.”

  Would somebody please explain to me those signs that say, “No animals allowed except for Seeing Eye dogs?” Who is that sign for? Is it for the dog, or the blind person?

  —JERRY SEINFELD

  Did you hear about the lion who consulted an eminent Beverly Hills psychiatrist?

  The king of the beasts complained that every time he roared, he had to sit though a two-hour movie.

  Recently the director of a local municipal zoo, having acquired a rare Indonesian ape named Oscar, was quite displeased to find that the large aggressive animal had broken free from his cage and was roaming throughout the city. The matter was serious because the members of the staff of the zoo, while expert at caring for animals, had had no experience in capturing them.

  The zoo director appealed to the office of the mayor for help, and the secretary to the mayor asked, “Have you looked in the Yellow Pages?”

  The director said he hadn’t, but would, immediately. To his surprise, under “Animal Capturing Service” he found a listing for the A-l Ape Apprehenders. He called them and within twenty minutes a truck arrived at the administration office of the zoo.

  A small man emerged and rushed to the director, who was waiting at the door.

  “Is there a wooded area in the vicinity?” the little man asked.

  The director said there was, about a half mile away.

  “Hop in the truck,” the little man said.

  The director did and they drove off. Minutes later they arrived at a small grove and immediately spotted Oscar in a tree on a branch about twenty-five feet above the ground.

  The two men got out, went to the back of the truck, and the little man opened the door. An excited little dog jumped out and began running around in circles.

  The little man reached into the truck and took out a suitcase, which he opened. In the suitcase were a pair of handcuffs, which he handed to the zoo director, a sawed-off shotgun, which he leaned against the trunk of the tree, and a baseball bat.

  “Now,” the little man said, “I’m going up into the tree with the baseball bat, and I’m going to knock the ape out of the tree. The instant the ape hits the ground, the dog will grab the ape by the crotch. The ape, instantly and instinctively, will grab at his crotch with both hands. You snap the handcuffs on and we’ve got him.”

  The zoo director, pointing to the shotgun leaning against the tree, said, “I’m not too sure about this. What’s the gun for?”

  The little man said, “Look, I’m an expert. I know what I’m doing and things will go just fine. After all, I have the baseball bat. I know my job and it’ll never happen, but if the ape should, by any chance, knock me out of the tree, shoot the dog!”

  The Easterner had always dreamed of owning his own cattle ranch, and finally made enough money to buy himself the spread of his dreams in Wyoming.

  “So what did you name the ranch?” asked his best friend when he flew out to visit.

  “We had a hell of a time,” admitted the new cowboy. “Couldn’t agree on anything. “We finally settled on the Double R Lazy L Triple Horseshoe Bar-7 Lucky Diamond Ranch.”

  “Wow!” His friend was impressed. “So where are all the cows?”

  “None of ’em survived the branding.”

  What do you give an elephant with diarrhea?

  Lots of room.

  Ever notice when you blow in a dog’s face he gets mad at you, but when you take him in a car he sticks his head out the window?

  —GEORGE CARLIN

  A woman needs only four animals in her life: a mink on her back, a jaguar in her garage, a tiger in her bed, and a jackass to pay for it all.

  What’s the biggest drawback of the jungle?

  An elephant’s foreskin.
>
  A panda walks into a pub and sits down for a drink. While he’s downing his pint, he looks across and sees this fine woman at the end of the bar, so he pulls up a stool next to her. He chats her up and the next thing he knows they are getting on like a house on fire.

  Then the panda says: “God, I could do with a bite to eat,” and in reply the woman asks him around to her place for a meal. Being the randy panda that he is, he readily accepts.

  Back at her place, after a fulfilling meal, one thing leads to another and the panda ends up having sex with the woman.

  In the morning as the panda is about to leave, the woman says to him, “Hey, wait a sec, I’m a prostitute.” Seeing the baffled expression on the panda’s face she tells him to look it up in the dictionary.

  So the panda looks up “prostitute” and the definition says: “Takes money for sex.”

  After reading this the panda relaxes and says, “That’s all right because I’m a panda.”

  The woman, confused, looks up “panda” in the dictionary and reads the definition: “Eats shoots and leaves.”

  A monkey sitting in a tree in Africa sees a huge lion sleeping on the ground below, with his tail going up in the air every five seconds. He thinks to himself, “That’s a big lion, if I fuck this lion up the ass, I’ll be the king of the jungle.” When the lion’s tail goes up again, the monkey jumps down and fucks the lion up the ass. The lion wakes up and chases the monkey through the jungle, the monkey dives through a row of trees and lands in the lobby of a big hotel. He picks up a newspaper and covers his face as if to read it. The lion comes through, roaring, “Did anybody see a monkey come in here?” From behind the paper the monkey yells, “The one that fucked the lion up the ass?” The lion roars back, “Holy shit! It’s in the paper already?”

  —JEFF PIRRAMI

  When I woke up this morning, I could feel tension mounting. Tension is my dog.

  —TOM COTTER

  A sloth was walking through the jungle one day when he was set upon by a gang of vicious snails.

  The snails left him bleeding and confused at the bottom of a tree. Several hours later he summoned the strength to go to the police station and report the assault. He was asked by the desk sergeant to describe his attackers.