Friar's Club Encyclopedia of Jokes

by Barry Dougherty

  L

  Lawyers

  What’s the difference between a dead cat on the road and a dead lawyer on the road?

  A dead cat has skid marks around it.

  —ORSON BEAN

  Know why laboratories have switched from rats to lawyers for their experiments?

  1. There’s no shortage of lawyers.

  2. You don’t get so attached to them.

  3. After all, there are some things you can’t get rats to do.

  One day the gate between heaven and hell breaks down, so St. Peter arrives on the scene and calls out for the devil. The devil saunters over and says, “What do you want?”

  St. Peter says, “Satan, it’s your turn to fix it this time.”

  And the devil says, “I’m sorry, but my men are too busy to worry about fixing a mere gate.”

  St. Peter says, “Well then, I’ll have to sue you for breaking our agreement.”

  And the devil says, “Oh yeah? Where are you going to get a lawyer?”

  —SOUPY SALES

  If you can’t find a lawyer who knows the law, find a lawyer who knows the judge.

  A snake had the misfortune to be born blind, and although he managed to forage successfully, he was very lonely. So he was delighted to make the acquaintance of a little mole—which was very nearly blind, as such creatures are—who offered to be his friend.

  They got together almost every day, and finally the snake mustered up his courage to ask the mole a question. “We have become dear friends, and yet I have no idea what you look like,” he pointed out. “Would you mind if I coiled myself around you very gently so I could get an image of you?”

  “Not at all,” replied the mole graciously, and soon found himself in the center of a mountain of snake.

  “Why, you are soft and furry, with a pointy little nose surrounded by bristly whiskers. Could it be that you are a mole?” hissed the snake.

  “I am indeed,” answered the mole. “And you—you are cold and slimy and are covered with scales and have no balls.”

  “Ssssshit,” hissed the snake, “I must be a lawyer.”

  A doctor, a lawyer, and an architect were arguing about whose dog was the smartest, so they agreed to stage a contest. “Okay, Rover,” said the architect, and Rover trotted over to a table and in five minutes had constructed a perfect scale model of Chartres Cathedral out of toothpicks. Pretty impressive, everyone agreed, and the architect gave Rover a cookie.

  “Hit it, Spot,” ordered the doctor, and Spot lost no time in performing an emergency Cesarean section on a cow, delivering healthy twin calves in less than three minutes. Not bad, the observers concurred, and Spot got a cookie from the doctor.

  “Your turn, Fella,” said the lawyer. So Fella trotted over, screwed the other two dogs, took their cookies, and went out to lunch.

  A builder, an electrician, and a lawyer were arguing about which profession was the oldest.

  The builder pointed out proudly that the first thing God had done was to build the earth.

  “True,” said the electrician, “but before that, He said, ‘Let there be light.’”

  “You’re both right,” said the lawyer agreeably, “but before the light, there was chaos—and who do you think created the chaos?”

  Lawyers—they get together all day long and say to each other, “What can we postpone next?” The only thing they don’t postpone, of course, is their bill, which arrives regularly. You’ve heard about the man who got the bill from his lawyer, which said, “For crossing the street to speak to you and discovering it was not you, twelve dollars.”

  —GEORGE S. KAUFMAN

  It was one of the most gruesome cases ever to come before the court in the small town, and if found guilty, the defendant would spend the rest of his life behind bars. The case had not been proceeding well for the defense. Though there was no direct evidence, the circumstantial evidence was quite compelling. The only chance the lawyer had was to cast some doubt in the minds of the jurors. His only hope was to attack the testimony of the medical examiner.

  Lawyer: “And prior to declaring the victim dead, did you check his pulse?”

  Doctor: “No.”

  Lawyer: “Did you perform CPR?”

  Doctor: “No.”

  Lawyer: “Did you do anything to determine if the victim was still alive prior to declaring him dead?”

  Doctor: “No.”

  Lawyer: “Then, Doctor, isn’t it possible that prior to your declaring the victim dead, he may in fact have been alive, and that it was your negligence that caused the death?”

  Doctor: “Aside from the fact that his brain was in a jar, I suppose he could have been out practicing law.”

  Visiting New York City for a medical convention, a doctor from the University of Utah took the afternoon off to do some shopping. Wandering into a little antiques store, he came across a curious brass sculpture of a rat and inquired as to the price.

  “I have to tell you the truth,” said the proprietor. “I’ve sold that piece twice and it’s been returned twice—so I’ll let you have it for four hundred dollars. It’s very old.”

  The doctor paid and headed out with his purchase in a bag under his arm. Not much later he noticed the shadowy forms of hundreds of live rats scuttling along in the gutters. A little while later the rats had swelled in number to several thousand, and it became evident they were following the doctor. His astonishment turned to disgust and alarm as the rat pack grew to fill up the whole street, so he picked up speed and headed east. When he reached the river, he chucked the brass rat right in, and to his considerable relief, the horde of rats followed it to a watery death.

  The next morning the doctor was the very first customer in the antiques store.

  “No way, buddy, I’m not taking it back a third time,” protested the owner.

  “Relax, I’m not bringing the rat back,” soothed the doctor. “I just wanted to know . . . do you have a brass lawyer?”

  A lawyer shows up at the pearly gates and St. Peter says, “Normally, we don’t let you people in here, but you’re in luck. “We have a special this week. You go to hell for the length of time you were alive, then you get to come back to heaven for eternity.

  The lawyer says, “I’ll take the deal.”

  St. Peter says, “Good, I’ll put you down for two hundred and twelve years in hell. . . .”

  The lawyer says, “What are you talking about? I’m sixty-five years old!”

  St. Peter says, “Up here we go by billing hours.”

  —ORSON BEAN

  The comely redhead was thrilled to have obtained a divorce and was dazzled by the skill and virtuosity of her lawyer, not to mention his healthy income and good looks. In fact, she realized, she had fallen head over heals in love with him, even though he was a married man.

  “Oh, Sam,” she sobbed at the conclusion of the trial, “isn’t there some way we can be together, the way we were meant to be?”

  Shaking her by the shoulders, Sam proceeded to scold her roundly for her lack of discretion and good judgment. “Snatched drinks in grimy bars on the edge of town, lying on the phone, hurried meetings in sordid motel rooms—is that really what you want for us?”

  “No . . . no . . .” she sobbed, heartsick.

  “Oh,” said the lawyer. “Well, it was just a suggestion.”

  A lawyer and an engineer were fishing in the Caribbean. The lawyer said, “I am here because my house burned down and everything I owned was destroyed. The insurance company paid for everything.”

  “That is quite a coincidence,” said the engineer, “I’m here because my house and all my belongings were destroyed by a flood, and my insurance company also paid for everything.”

  The lawyer looked somewhat confused and asked, “How do you start a flood?”

  Two men meet on the street.

  “It was very cold this morning.”

  “How cold was it?”

  “I don’t know exactly what the temperature was, but I
saw a lawyer with his hands in his own pockets.”

  The receptionist at a law firm answered the telephone the morning after the firm’s senior partner had died unexpectedly. “Is Mr. Smith there?” asked the client on the phone.

  “I am very sorry, but Mr. Smith passed away last night,” the receptionist answered.

  “Is Mr. Smith there?” repeated the client.

  The receptionist was perplexed. “Perhaps you did not understand me. I am afraid Mr. Smith passed away last night.”

  “Is Mr. Smith there?” asked the client again.

  “Madam, do you understand what I am saying?” asked the exasperated receptionist. “Mr. Smith is dead.”

  “I understand you perfectly,” the client sighed. “I just cannot hear it often enough.”

  A lawyer is standing at the gate to heaven, and St. Peter is listing his sins:

  1. Defending a large corporation in a pollution suit when he knew they were guilty.

  2. Defending an obviously guilty murderer because the fee was high.

  3. Overcharging many clients.

  4. Prosecuting an innocent woman because a scapegoat was needed in a controversial case.

  And so the list continued.

  The lawyer objects and begins to argue his case. He admits all these things, but argues, “Wait, I’ve done some charity in my life, too.”

  St. Peter looks in his book and says,” Yes, I see. Once you gave a dime to a panhandler and once you gave an extra nickel to the shoeshine boy, correct?”

  The lawyer gets a smug look on his face and replies, “Yes.”

  St. Peter turns to the angel next to him and says, “Give this guy fifteen cents and tell him to go to hell.”

  Four surgeons were taking a coffee break and were discussing their work.

  The first one said, “I think accountants are the easiest to operate on. Everything inside is numbered.”

  “I think librarians are the easiest” said the second surgeon. “When you open them up, all their organs are alphabetically ordered.”

  The third surgeon said, “I prefer to operate on electricians. All their organs are color coded.”

  The fourth one said, “I like to operate on lawyers. They’re heartless, spineless, gutless, and their heads and their behinds are interchangeable.”

  “You seem to have more than the average share of intelligence for a man of your background,” sneered the lawyer at a witness on the stand.

  “If I wasn’t under oath, I’d return the compliment,” replied the witness.

  Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, an honest lawyer, and an old drunk are walking down the street together when they simultaneously spot a hundred-dollar bill. Who gets it?

  The old drunk, of course, the other three are mythological creatures.

  A rabbi, a Hindu, and a lawyer were driving late at night in the country when their car expired. They set out to find help, and came to a farmhouse. When they knocked at the door, the farmer explained that he had only two beds, and one of the three men would have to sleep in the barn with the animals.

  The rabbi said he would sleep in the barn and let the other two have the beds. Ten minutes after the rabbi left, there was a knock on the bedroom door. The rabbi entered exclaiming, “I can’t sleep in the barn; there is a pig in there. It’s against my religion to sleep with a pig!”

  The Hindu said he would sleep in the barn, since he had no religious problem with pigs. However, about five minutes later, the Hindu burst through the bedroom door, saying “There’s a cow in the barn! I can’t sleep in the same room as a cow! It’s against my religion!”

  The lawyer, anxious to get to sleep, said he would go to the barn, since he had no problem sleeping with animals.

  In two minutes, the bedroom door burst open and the pig and the cow entered. . . .

  There was a terrible accident at the building site, and the construction worker rushed over to where a well-dressed woman was pinned beneath an iron girder.

  “Hang in there, lady,” he said helplessly, “the ambulance will be here soon. Are you badly hurt?”

  “How should I know?” she snapped. “I’m a doctor, not a lawyer.”

  WARNING: Prosecuters Will Be Violated.

  A man calls his lawyer and asks: How much would you charge me to answer three questions?

  Lawyer: Four hundred dollars.

  Man: That’s a lot of money isn’t it?

  Lawyer: I guess so. What’s your third question?

  Two lawyers are walking down the street and they see a beautiful woman walking toward them.

  The first lawyer says, “See that woman? Boy, would I love to screw her.”

  The second lawyer says, “Out of what?”

  Two lawyers are in a bank when, suddenly, armed robbers burst in. While several of the thieves take the money from the tellers, others line the customers, including the lawyers, up against a wall, and proceed to take their wallets, watches, and other jewelry.

  While this is going on, one lawyer jams something into the other lawyer’s hand.

  Without looking down, the second lawyer whispers, “What is this?” to which the first lawyer replies, “It’s that fifty dollars I owe you.”

  We have 35 million laws to enforce the ten commandments.

  What is the difference between a lawyer and a rooster?

  When a rooster wakes up in the morning, its primal urge is to cluck defiance.

  Running into the local attorney on a street corner, the man asked her a business question. He was startled when a bill for her services arrived a few days later, to the tune of seventy-five dollars.

  Not long afterward they ran into each other on the street again, and the lawyer greeted him cheerfully.

  “Good morning,” he responded, “but I’m telling you, not asking you.”

  Discovering a leak in the bathroom, the lawyer’s secretary called the plumber, who fixed it in a matter of minutes. The bill, however, was substantial, so substantial that the lawyer called to complain. “You weren’t here for more than ten minutes,” he said, “and I don’t charge that much for an hour.”

  “I know,” responded the plumber sympathetically. “I didn’t either, when I was a lawyer.”

  An engineer, a physicist, and a lawyer were being interviewed for a position as chief executive officer of a large corporation. The engineer was interviewed first, and was asked a long list of questions, ending with “How much is two plus two?” The engineer excused himself and made a series of measurements and calculations before returning to the boardroom and announcing, “Four.”

  The physicist was next interviewed, and was asked the same questions. Again, the last question was, “How much is two plus two?” Before answering the last question, he excused himself, made for the library, and did a great deal of research. After a consultation with the United States Bureau of Standards and many calculations, he also announced, “Four.”

  The lawyer was interviewed last, and again the final question was, “How much is two plus two?” The lawyer drew all the shades in the room, looked outside to see if anyone was there, checked the telephone for listening devices, and finally whispered, “How much do you want it to be?”

  After successfully passing the bar exam, a young man opened his own law office. One day he was sitting idle at his desk when his secretary announced that a Mr. Jones had arrived to see him.

  “Show him right in!” the lawyer replied. As Mr. Jones was being ushered in, the lawyer had an idea. He quickly picked up the phone and shouted into it “. . . and you tell them that we won’t accept less than fifty thousand dollars, and don’t even call me until you agree to that amount!”

  Slamming the phone down, he stood up and greeted Mr. Jones. “Good morning, Mr. Jones, what can I do for you?”

  “I’m from the telephone company,” Mr. Jones replied. “I’m here to connect your phone.”

  Life

  Life is a sexually transmitted disease.

  —GUY BELLAMY

  �
�Daddy, what are those dogs doing?” asked little Tiffany, catching sight of two dogs across the street stuck together in the act of intercourse.

  “Uh . . . one dog’s hurt and the other one’s helping him out, honey,” explained her red-faced father hastily.

  “What a fuckin’ world, huh, Dad?” remarked Tiffany, looking up at him sweetly. “Just when you’re down and out, somebody gives it to you up the ass.”

  Life was a lot simpler when what we honored was father and mother rather than all the major credit cards.

  —ROBERT ORBEN

  Life is not for everyone.

  —MICHAEL O’DONOGHUE

  Milton came into his wife’s room one day. “If I were, say, disfigured, would you still love me?” he asked her.

  “Darling, I’ll always love you,” she said calmly, filing her nails.

  “How about if I became impotent, couldn’t make love to you anymore?” he asked anxiously.

  “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll always love you,” she told him, buffing her nails.

  “Well, how about if I lost my job as vice president?” Milton went on, “if I weren’t pulling in six figures anymore. Would you still love me then?”

  The woman looked over at her husband’s worried face. “Milton, I’ll always love you,” she reassured him, “but most of all, I’ll really miss you.”

  If you want my final opinion on the mystery of life and all that, I can give it to you in a nutshell. The universe is like a safe to which there is a combination. But the combination is locked up in the safe.

  —PETER DE VRIES

  The theology student decided his academic pursuits were a travesty and that he should go forth and seek the meaning of life for himself. In the course of his travels, he was directed to a distant peak in the Himalayas where a great sage resided. Arriving at the sage’s austere cave after a trek of many days, the student prostrated himself and asked humbly, “Oh, revered Master, what is life?”