Joke #1705

Quasimodo, the demented bell ringer of Notre Dame, put an ad in the papers for a assistant bell ringer. One man applied for the job but he had no arms. "How are you going to assist me?" asked Quasimodo. "That's easy!" replied the man and he ran at the bell and banged it with his head. BONG!!! "That's amazing!" said Quasimodo. "Could you show me that again?" "Sure!" said the man and he ran at the bell again but he missed the swinging bell and fell out of the bell tower. A crowd huddled around the hapless man lying in the street and a police office asked, "Does anyone know who he is?" Quasimodo came out and said... "I DON'T KNOW HIS NAME, BUT HIS FACE SURE RINGS A BELL!"

A man walks into the front door of a bar. He is obviously drunk. he staggers up to the bar, seats himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink. The bartender politely informs the man that it appears that he has already had plenty to drink--he could not be served additional liquor at this bar but could get a cab called for him. The drunk is briefly surprised then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down off the bar stool, and staggers out the front door. A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink. The bartender comes over, and still politely--but more firmly refuses service to the man due to his inebriation. Again, the bartender offers to call a cab for him. The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head. A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits, and belligerently orders a drink. The bartender comes over and emphatically reminds the man that he is clearly drunk, will be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police will be called immediately. The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish, cries "Man! How many bars do you work at?"

My girlfriend asked me for the 7th time in a row for me to smash raw... She must think I'm made of coat hangers.

A colleague was planning a trip to my business office and asked if I could find him a hotel with exercise facilities. I called several hotels, with no luck. Finally, I thought I had found one. I asked the receptionist if the hotel had a weight room. "No," she replied, "but we have a lobby and you can wait there."

Q: Why are Germans bad cooks? A: The only good one killed himself.

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."

Two guys always catch the train to work together; one is French, the other Italian. Every morning when the French guy gets on, he passes his fingers underneath his nose while sniffing and says "Aaahhh... Fifi!" He does this every day, so the Italian guy says to him one morning, "Why do you do that and say 'Aaahhh... Fifi!'?" The French man explaines that Fifi is his wife, and he fingers her every morning and it reminds him of her all day. The next morning, the French guy gets on the trains and sniffs his fingers saying, "Fifi!" Then the Italian guy gets on and runs his whole arm under his nose and says, "Aaahhh... Maria!"

The Reverend John Fuzz was pastor of a small congregation in a little Pennsylvania town. One day he was walking down Main Street and he happened to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer. The reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his congregation should do, so he walked through the open door of the bar and sat down next to the woman. "Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?" "Shure," she said with a slur, obviously very drunk. When Mrs Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor. After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist. The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here, buddy, we won't have any of that carrying on in this bar." The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz." The bartender nodded, "Well, heck, if you're that far along you might as well finish the job."

A physicist, an engineer and a programmer were in a car driving over a steep alpine pass when the brakes failed. The car was getting faster and faster, they were struggling to get round the corners and once or twice only the feeble crash barrier saved them from crashing down the side of the mountain. They were sure they were all going to die, when suddenly they spotted an escape lane. They pulled into the escape lane, and came safely to a halt. The physicist said "We need to model the friction in the brake pads and the resultant temperature rise, see if we can work out why they failed". The engineer said "I think I've got a few spanners in the back. I'll take a look and see if I can work out what's wrong". The programmer said "Why don't we get going again and see if it's reproducible?"

A fellow walks into a bar feeling very down on himself. As he walks up to the bar the bartender asks, "what's the matter?" The fellow replies, "well I've got these two horses (sniff,sniff), and well... I can't tell them apart. I don't know if I'm mixing up riding times or even feeding them the right foods." The bartender, feeling sorry for the guy, tries to think of somthing he can do. "Why don't you try shaving the tail of one of the horses?" The man stops crying and says, "that sounds like a good idea, I think I'll try it." A few months later he comes back to the bar in worse condition than he was before. "What's the matter now?" the bartender asks. The fellow, in no condition to be in public, answers, "I shaved the tail of one of the horses (sob, sob), but it grew back and I can't tell them apart again!" The bartender, now just wanting him to shut up or leave says, "why don't you try shaving the mane, maybe that will not grow back." The fellow stops crying, has a few drinks, and leaves. A few months later the fellow is back in the bar. The bartender has never seen anybody in this sorry of a state. Without the bartender even asking the fellow breaks into his problems. "I.. I shaved the (sob) mane of one of the (sniff) horses, and... it... it... grew back!" The bartenter, now furious at the guy's general stupidity, yells, "for crying out loud, just measure the stupid horses. Perhaps one is slightly taller that the other one!" The fellow can not believe what the bartender has said and storms out of the bar. The next day the fellow comes running back into the bar as if he had just won the lottery. "It worked, it worked!" he exclaims. "I measured the horses and the black one is two inches taller than the white one!"

Monday is an awful way to spend 1/7th of your life.