So it's the weekend, and I'm on my back patio when I get this idea to call up my coroner friend Bob. "Bob's not here," his wife says, "he's at work." "Sheesh!" I think. "Poor guy doing autopsies on a Sunday." So I call him on his cell. "What gives, bro,?" I ask. "Homicide," he says. "The higher-ups need a report ASAP. I'll be starting in just a few minutes." I Josh Bob a little. "I'll be thinking of you, buddy. Right now, I'm basting barbecue sauce on a rack of baby-backs and I'm getting ready to open a frosty beer." "Not much different here," he says. "I'm about ready to crack open a cold one myself."
Doctor (to a patient): "You must take four tea-spoonfuls of this medicine before every meal." Patient: "Doctor, we’ve only 3 spoons at home."
Chuck Norris's favourite drink is diamond juice, which he squeezes out of raw diamonds with his bare hands.
Chuck Norris put corns in the Milky Way and eat them at his breakfast.
If it were true that you are what you eat. Then you are about to be a roundhouse kick.
What do you get when you cross a rabbit with strawberry soda? A berry bubbly bunny.
Why wouldn't the reporter leave the mashed potatoes alone? He desperately wanted a scoop.
A random communist leader hears about a man making jokes about him. He organizes a feast and calls the man. Leader: "This is how all meals will look in the future!" Man: (looks for a few seconds at the leader then says): "I thought I was the one around with the jokes."
Chuck Norris dropped the apple on Isaac Newtons Head.
Two Middle East mothers are sitting in a cafe chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat’s milk. The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping through photos. And they start reminiscing. "This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now." "Yes, I remember him as a baby" says the other mother cheerfully. "He’s a martyr now though" mum confides. "Oh, so sad, dear" says the other. "And this is my second son Kalid. He would be 21." "Oh, I remember him," says the other happily, "he had such curly hair when he was born." "He’s a martyr too" says mum quietly. "Oh, gracious me…" says the other. "And this is my third son. My baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18," she whispers. "Yes" says the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he first started school." "He’s a martyr also," says mum, with tears in her eyes. After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photographs and says, "They blow up so fast, don’t they?"