Joke #9506

One step forward, 12 floors down.

Death is God’s way of saying, ‘Hey, you’re not alive any more.’

Q: How many dead babies does it take to shingle a roof? A: Depends on how thin you slice them.

Man receives telegram: Wife dead-should be buried or cremated? Man: Don't take any chances. Burn the body and bury the ash.

Two Arabs are sitting in the Gaza Strip chatting over a pint of goats milk. One pulls his wallet out and starts flipping through pictures and they start reminiscing. "This is my oldest son. He's a martyr. "Here's my second son. He's a martyr too!" After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Arab wistfully says , They blow up so fast, don't they?"

Q. Why did Michael Jackson call Boys II Men? A. He thought it was a home delivery service.

Doctor: "You have cataract in your eyes. But you need not worry It is hereditary." Patient: "Death is also hereditary. Does it mean we should not worry about it?"

An old Arab lived close to New York City for more than 40 years. He would have loved to plant potatoes in his garden, but he is alone, old and weak. His son is in college in Paris, so the old man sends him an e-mail. He explains the problem: "Beloved son, I am very sad, because I can't plant potatoes in my garden. I am sure, if only you were here, you would help and dig up the garden for me. I love you, Your Father." The following day, the old man receives a response e-mail from his son: "Beloved Father, please don't touch the garden. It's there that I have hidden 'the THING'. I love you, too, Ahmed" At 4pm the US Army, The Marines, the FBI, the CIA and the Rangers visit the house of the old man, take the whole garden apart, search every inch, but can't find anything. Disappointed they leave the house. A day later, the old man receives another e-mail from his son. "Beloved Father, I hope the garden is dug up by now and you can plant your potatoes. That's all I could do for you from here. I love you, Ahmed."

Q: What's the last thing you usually hear before a redneck dies? A: Hey y'all... Watch this!

The crusty old managing partner finally passed away, but his firm kept receiving calls asking to speak with him. "I'm sorry, he's dead," was the standard answer. Finally, the receptionist who fielded the calls began to realize it was always the same voice, so she asked who it was and why he kept calling. The reply: "I used to be one of his junior associates, and I just like to hear you say it."

"My parachute did not work." Said no one ever.