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Whatever happened to good, clean jokes?

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By Bill Wundram | Tuesday, June 24, 2008 12:27 PM CDT | () comments

THE old geezer was asking. “How come we don’t have many things to make us laugh anymore?”

   Blame it on the politicians.  You never hear a politician crack a good joke. One would be good for a couple dozen votes.

I have the idea that there are no new good jokes.  Everyone is too worried about gas prices to laugh about anything. If you send me a usable joke, I will instantly mail you a book of my priceless prose.

I’ve dug out a couple of old previously published jokes to stimulate your yuk-yuks. Can anyone match these?


The rods and revenge

She spent the first day packing her belongings.

On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her personal things.

On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table, put on soft background music, and feasted by candlelight on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar and a bottle of chardonnay.

When she had finished, she went into every room and stuffed half-eaten shrimp dipped in caviar into the hollow of all the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.

When the ex-husband returned with his new, young girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything. They aired the place out. Vents were checked, carpets were cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Nothing worked. Finally, they couldn’t take the stench any longer and had to move.

A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they couldn’t find a buyer for their stinky house. Real estate agents balked at showing the smelly place. Finally, they had to borrow a hunk of money to purchase a new residence.

The ex-wife called and asked her ex-husband how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely and said that she missed her old home terribly and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back.

Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he offered a price that was about a tenth of what the house had been worth. She agreed. The ex-husband could take all the contents. Within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork.

A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home —including the curtain rods.


‘Yeah, sure, ya betcha’

Ole lived across the river from Clarence, whom he didn’t like at all.  All the time they were yelling across the river at each other.

Ole would yell to Clarence, “If I had a vay to cross dis river, I’d come over dere an beat you up good, yeah, sure, ya betcha.”

This went on for years.

Finally, the state of Minnesota built a bridge across the river . Ole’s wife, Lena, said, “Now is you chance to go over dere and beat up dat Clarence like you said you would.”

Ole said, “OK, by yimminy, I tink I will do dat.”

Ole started for the bridge, but when he saw a sign he stopped, turned around and went home. Lena asked, “Vhy did you come back?”

Old said, “Lena, I tink I change my mind ’bout beatin’ up dat Clarence. Dey put a sign on the bridge dat says, ‘Clarence, 13 ft. 6 inches.’ He don’t look near dat big when I yell at him from across da river.”


Bill Wundram can be contacted at (563) 383-2249 or bwundram@qctimes.com. Comment on this column at qctimes.com.

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