“That’s simple enough, nurse,” answered the doctor, “I asked him to show me his sexual organs.”
An eager-beaver young real-estate agent was doing his best to sell this old coot a condominium in Palm Beach. Having outlined its many attractions in detail, he confidently concluded his pitch: “And, Mr. Rosenblatt, this is an investment in the future.”
“Sonny,” croaked Mr. Rosenblatt, “at my age I don’t even buy green bananas.”
He’s so old that when he orders a three-minute egg, they ask for the money up-front.
—MILTON BERLE
I’ll never make the mistake of bein’ seventy again!
—CASEY STENGEL
The girls in the brothel were frankly skeptical when a ninety-year-old man came in and put his money down on the front desk, but finally a good-hearted hooker took him up to her room. Imagine her surprised when he proceeded to make love to her with more energy and skill than any man she had ever known.
“I’ve never come so many times,” she gasped. “How about once more, on the house?”
“All right,” conceded the old geezer, “but I have to take a five-minute nap and you must keep your hands on my penis, just so, while I’m asleep.” She agreed eagerly, and as soon as he woke up, he gave her an even better lesson in lovemaking.
“Oh God,” gasped the hooker ecstatically, “I can’t get enough of you. Please, just once more—I’ll pay you.”
The old man agreed, subject to the same conditions, and just before he nodded out, the hooker said, “Excuse me, but would you mind explaining about the nap and why I have to keep my hands on your privates?”
“I’m ninety years old,” retorts the man, “so is it so surprising I need a little rest? As for the other, it’s because the last time while I was napping they took my wallet.”
Carla was well into her sixties when she went to her doctor complaining of nausea, exhaustion, and occasional cramps. After a thorough examination the doctor sent her to the hospital for a battery of tests, and finally confronted her with the results. “Mrs. Barber, medically impossible though it seems at your age, there’s no doubt about it: you’re pregnant.”
“Impossible,” she cried, and fainted dead away. When she came to, she staggered to the phone, dialed her seventy-eight-year-old husband, and screeched, “You’ve knocked me up, you randy old goat!”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Then a voice said, “And to whom am I speaking?”
I’m at that age now where just putting my cigar in its holder is a thrill.
—GEORGE BURNS
There ain’t nothin’ an ol’ man can do but bring me a message from a young one.
—MOMS MABLEY
The elderly man flattered himself that he was still a ladies’ man, and decided to flirt with the comely waitress. “So tell me, sweetheart, where have you been all my life?” he crooned.
“Actually, sir,” she pointed out sweetly, “for the first forty-five years of it, I wasn’t even around.”
A teenager was riding in an elevator with a very old woman when a horrible smell filled the car. Finally the kid said, “Excuse me for asking, lady, but did you fart?”
“Of course I did, sonny,” she replied sharply. “Think I always smell like that?”
I am the oldest living white man, especially at seven in the morning.
—ROBERT BENCHLEY
How do you know when you’re really old?
You can remember championship fights between two white guys.
A man is as old as the woman he feels.
—GROUCHO MARX
Why are old people so wrinkled?
Ever try to iron one?
When an aged woman was asked if there were to be candles on her birthday cake, she responded curtly, “No, it’s a birthday party, not a torchlight procession.”
There’s one advantage to being 102 years old. There’s no peer pressure.
—DENNIS WOLFBERG
An old man concerned about his strength went to see his doctor. “Tell me what problem you are having,” said the doctor.
“Well,” said the old man, “at age twenty, I could bend back my erect penis about ten degrees. At age thirty, about twenty-five degrees. At age fifty, I could bend it back about forty degrees. At age sixty-five, I could bend it back about ninety degrees. Now at age seventy-eight, I can bend it back about a hundred and twenty degrees.”
“And just what is it that concerns you?” asked the doctor again.
“Is it normal for my arm to keep getting stronger as I age?”
Herschel was astounded—and a little worried—when Reuben announced his upcoming marriage to a twenty-year-old girl. “At your advanced age,” cautioned his friend, “couldn’t that be fatal?”
Reuben shrugged philosophically. “If she dies, she dies.”
Couples
My grandmother’s ninety. She’s dating. He’s ninety-three. They’re very happy. They never argue. They can’t hear each other.
—CATHY LADMAN
A young woman was walking toward the bus stop when she came across a little old man sitting on the curb, sobbing his heart out. Moved by his grief, the woman bent over and asked him what was so terribly wrong.
“I have sex with my wife almost every day of the week. Almost Monday, almost Tuesday . . .”
—MILTON BERLE
Senior citizens, good news! Of memory, hearing, all the faculties, the last to leave us is sexual desire and the ability to make love. That means that long after we’re wearing bifocals and hearing aids, we’ll be making love. We just won’t know with whom.
—JACK PAAR
The old couple sat through the porno movie twice, not getting up to leave until the theater was closing for the night. “You folks must have really enjoyed the show,” commented the usher on the way out.
“It was revolting,” retorted the old lady.
“Disgusting,” added her husband.
“Then why did you sit through it twice?” asked the puzzled usher.
“We had to wait until you turned up the house lights,” explained the old woman. “We couldn’t find my underpants, and his teeth were in them.”
My wife calls our waterbed the Dead Sea.
—MILTON BERLE
The newlyweds came back from their honeymoon at Niagara Falls and moved into the apartment upstairs from the groom’s parents, Vito and Nina. That night Vito was awakened by a dig in the ribs from his wife. “Vito, listen,” she whispered. Sure enough, they could hear the bedsprings in the room above them creaking rhythmically. “Come on, Vito,” she urged. So he rolled over on top of her and they made love.
He had just fallen back asleep when the creaking of the bed-springs woke him again. “Vito, listen to them,” said Nina in a stage whisper. “Come on.” So he rolled over and made love to her again.
Vito was sound asleep when another dig in the ribs woke him to the sound of the bedsprings creaking away yet another time. “Vito, listen,” began his wife, pulling off her nightgown.
At this the old man leaped to his feet, grabbed a broom, and started banging away on the ceiling like a maniac. “Cut it out, god-damnit!” he yelled. “You’re killing your old man!”
“Doctor, I’m losing my sex urge,” complained Ruth at her annual checkup.
“Mrs. Beeston, that’s understandable at eighty-four,” said the doctor, “but tell me, when did you first start noticing this?”
“Last night,” she answered, “and then again this morning.”
“Aha,” said the doctor. “Your problem isn’t a diminished sex drive, it’s that you’re not getting enough. You should be having sex at least fifteen times a month.”
Thanking him and heading home, the old woman couldn’t wait to report the doctor’s prescription to her husband. “Guess what, Pop? He says I need it fifteen times a month!”
Pop put in his teeth and said, “That’s just great, honey. Put me down for five.”
When the elderly couple
went in for their annual checkup, the wife stayed in the waiting room while her husband went in to be examined.
The doctor, kibitzing with him, said, “Sam, how’s your sex life?”
“I’ll tell you the truth,” replied Sam. “The first time is great. But the second time, I start to sweat something terrible.”
The doctor said, “Just a second. The second time? At your age? At eighty-five? That’s remarkable.” He excused himself and went out to the guy’s wife in the waiting room and said, “Ma’am, I have to ask you this. I was asking your husband how his sex life is, and he said the first time was great, but the second time he starts to sweat something terrible.”
“He wouldn’t lie to you,” responded the old woman. “In January, it’s cold. In July, it’s hot.”
—PHIL STONE
Two elderly men are sitting on a park bench, watching the young girls go by. One says to the other, “You know, I’m still sexually interested in women. In fact, I always get excited when I see the young girls walking by. The real problem is that at this age I don’t see so good anymore.”
This old man marries a girl barely out of her teens. Needless to say, she is asking for it, so when they get into bed on the wedding night, she asks him, “So are we going to have rampant sex tonight?”
The man responds by raising his hand and outstretching his fingers.
“What? Five times?” asks the eager girl.
“No,” he replies. “Pick a finger.”
There’s a sweet old couple in Los Angeles. The wife went for a medical examination and when she came home she said to her husband, “The doctor said that I have the heart of a fifty-year-old person, I have the lungs from a forty-year-old person, and my blood pressure is like a person twenty-five years old.”
“Oh really? And what did he say about your seventy-year-old ass?” asked her husband.
She said, “He never mentioned your name.”
—NORM CROSBY
The aged couple came into town for their annual physical. “You go in first, Paw,” said the old woman, settling down to her knitting in the waiting room.
After a while, the old codger stuck his head out of the doctor’s office. “Maw,” he called out, scratching his head, “do we have intercourse?”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a dozen times, Paw,” she scolded, “we have Blue Cross and Blue Shield.”
An old couple are in bed one night and the woman wakes up and says, “Sam, get up and close the window. It’s cold outside.” The fellow keeps right on snoring.
A little while later she nudges him and says again, “Sam, get up and close the window! It’s cold outside.” He’s about to go back to sleep, but she keeps shaking him, so finally he gets up and closes the window.
He gets back into bed and says, “So now it’s warm outside?”
—MYRON COHEN
An elderly man and his wife decided to separate. Before being allowed to do so legally, the family court insisted they undergo some marriage counseling to see if their union could be saved.
The therapist did her best, but to no avail. The old folks were absolutely determined to go through with separation leading to divorce.
Finally, in some desperation, the therapist said to the husband, “But you’re ninety-five and your wife is ninety-three. You’ve been married for seventy-two years! “Why do you want to separate now?”
To which the wife replied, “We haven’t been able to stand each other for the last forty-six years. But we thought we should wait until all the children died before we split up.”
Opinion
Desk sign: You may not think much of what I have to say, but remember, it’s one six-billion-seven-hundred-millionth of the world’s opinion.
In all matters of opinion, our adversaries are insane.
—MARK TWAIN
The degree of one’s emotion varies inversely with one’s knowledge of the facts—the less you know, the hotter you get.
—BERTRAND RUSSELL
Every man has a perfect right to his opinion, provided it agrees with ours.
—JOSH BILLINGS
Then there’s the matter of half-truths. A certain sailor, celebrating a long-awaited ship’s leave, got very inebriated. When he staggered back up the gangway, the captain sternly entered in the log: “Mate drunk tonight.”
When he saw the entry, the mate objected violently. “Captain, the boat was moored—you know I’ve never been drunk on board before, never drunk on duty. If this stays on the record, I’ll never get work on another ship.”
Stone-hearted, the captain refused to modify his entry. “It is the truth, and it shall remain on the record.”
A few days later the captain was checking over the log and came across an entry written by the mate: “Captain was sober today.” The outraged captain summoned the mate and accused him of creating a false impression. “Anyone reading this will think my sobriety was unusual, that I’m usually drunk!” he bellowed.
“The statement is true,” the mate calmly asserted, “and it will remain in the log.”
I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally.
—W. C. FIELDS
Optimism
What’s the difference between an optimist and a pessimist?
An optimist created the airplane; a pessimist created the seat belts.
Hear about the easygoing guy who was given three weeks to live?
He took the last two weeks of July and the week between Christmas and New Years.
Confidence: what you start off with before you completely understand the situation.
Wife: You’re always wishing for something you haven’t got.
Husband: What else is there to wish for?
During his whistle-stop campaign for the presidency in 1948, Harry Truman is reputed to have asked a fellow in the crowd before him how he was intending to vote.
“Mr. Truman,” came the reply, “I wouldn’t vote for you if yours was the only name on the ballot.”
Truman turned to an aide and instructed, “Put that man down as doubtful.”
You know those seed catalogs? I think the pictures are posed by professional flowers getting fifty dollars an hour. I don’t consider gardening so much growing flowers as burying seeds.
Things are bad. I saw two fellows downtown carrying those signs reading “The End Is Near”—and they were synchronizing their watches.
P
Paranoia
Friday afternoon I’m walking home from school and I’m watching some men build a new house. And the guy hammering on the roof calls me a paranoid little weirdo. In Morse code.
—EMO PHILLIPS
I have an intense desire to return to the womb. Anybody’s.
—WOODY ALLEN
I’ve had a rough day. I put my shirt on and a button fell off. I picked up my briefcase and the handle fell off. I’m afraid to go to the bathroom.
—SCOTT RECORD, DOING RODNEY DANGERFIELD
I’m paranoid about everything. Even at home, on my stationary bike, I have an exercise mirror. . . . This is a rumor, but one of my uncles said that, apparently, at birth, I turned around and looked over my shoulder as I came out of the womb. I was paranoid. I thought maybe someone was following me.
—RICHARD LEWIS
How many paranoid schizophrenics does it take to screw in a light-bulb?
Who wants to know?
It’s hard to be nice to some paranoid schizophrenic just because she lives in your body!
—JUDY TENUTA
I’m very insecure. I get depressed when I find out the people I hate don’t like me. I’m kind of paranoid, too. I often think the car in front of me is following me the long way around.
—DENNIS MILLER
I wanted to go to the Paranoids Anonymous meeting, but they wouldn’t tell me where it was.
Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.
Parenthood
My husband and I are either goi
ng to buy a dog or have a child. We can’t decide whether to ruin our carpet or ruin our lives.
—RITA RUDNER
Nowadays you can’t even spank your kids. No, gotta give ’em a timeout. My dad would take time out of his busy day . . . to whip our ass.
—JEFF FOXWORTHY
Two law partners can’t resist hiring a gorgeous young receptionist, and despite promises to the contrary, neither can resist going to bed with her. And not too long afterward, their worst fears are realized. The blushing receptionist announces that she’s pregnant. No one even knows who the father is, and the partners are in a complete quandary. So toward the end of the pregnancy, they decide to chip in and send the girl off to Florida to have the baby.
Several months go by with no news. Finally, one of the partners feels so guilty that he hops on a flight to Miami to go check on the young mother. The next night the phone rings in their New York office.
“How is she?” asks his partner.
“Oh, she’s fine,” is the breezy answer, “but I’ve got some bad news and some good news.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the good news?”
“Well, like I said, Jeannette’s fine. And she had twins.”
“So what’s the bad news?” asked the partner from New York.
“Mine died.”
I will never understand children. I never pretended to. I meet mothers all the time who make resolutions to themselves. “I’m going to . . . go out of my way to show them I am interested in them and what they do. I am going to understand my children.” These women end up making rag rugs, using blunt scissors.
—ERMA BOMBECK
One day Jason burst into the house and said, “Mom! Dad! I have great news: I’m getting married to the greatest girl in the world. Florence has agreed to marry me.”
But that night Jason’s dad took him aside for a little chat. “I have some bad news for you, son,” he confessed. “See, I used to fool around a lot, and Florence is actually your half-sister. I’m afraid you can’t marry her.”
Friar's Club Encyclopedia of Jokes Page 31
