Not Jokes

The pastor of the local church calls on the congregation for volunteers for Bible sales.

A gentleman with a severe stutter approaches the pastor after Sunday service.

"I-i-i... I-i-id like to v-v-v-v-vol-vol-vo-volunteer to s-s-s-se-sell b-b-b-bi-b-bibles, f-fff-f-f-fa-fa-father..."

"That would be wonderful, my son. We'll start you with one box. Please go door to door throughout the community and sell what you can. You can give these away, but donations are always accepted since the word of God is the most important message."

"T-t-t-t-th-th-th-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father... i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll s-s-s-s-se-se-sell what I c-c-c-cc-can..."

The pastor sends the man on his way.

About an hour later to the pastor's surprise, the stuttering man returns with an empty box and $200 cash.

The pastor is completely shocked, but is ultimately filled with joy as the church could use the funds more than ever, not to mention the community is that much closer to God's message.

So without asking questions, he happily sends the stuttering man on his way with 2 more boxes of Bibles.

"T-t-t-t-t-t-th-th-th-th-tha-thank you f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father, i-i-i-i-i-i-I'll be back s-s-s-s-s-soo-soo-soo-soon."

Exactly 2 hours later the stuttering man returns, only this time carrying 2 empty boxes and $500 cash.

The pastor is at a loss for words. So much so, that he's questioning whether the stuttering man is coming across these funds legitimately.

He pulls the man aside and asks, "Son, while myself and the church thank you for your efforts in selling these bibles, we want to make sure not to take advantage of common people. Most of my volunteers take upwards of a month to sell a single box of Bibles, and you've sold 3 boxes in a few hours. May I ask what you're telling these people when you approach their home?"

"W-w-w-w-we-we-well f-ff-f-f-f-fa-fa-fath-father it-it-it-it-its qui-q-q-q-qui-quite s-s-s-s-s-s-si-sim-simple."

"I ju-ju-ju-ju-just ask the-the-th-th-th-the-them if th-th-th-th-the-the-they'd l-l-l-l-li-li-li-li-lik-like to b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bu-bu-buy a b-b-b-bi-bi-bi-bible or if they w-w-w-w-w-wa-wa-wa-wan-want me to re-re-re-rea-read it to them."

I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless man who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.

I took out my wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, "If I give you this money, will you buy some beer with it instead of dinner?"

"No, I had to stop drinking years ago," the homeless man replied.

"Will you use it to go fishing instead of buying food?" I asked.

"No, I don't waste time fishing," the homeless man said. "I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive."

"Will you spend this on hunting equipment?" I asked.

"Are you NUTS!" replied the homeless man. "I haven't gone hunting in 20 years!"

"Well," I said, "I'm not going to give you money. Instead, I'm going to take you home for a shower and a terrific dinner cooked by my wife."

The homeless man was astounded. "Won't your wife be furious with you for doing that?"

I replied, "Don't worry about that. It's important for her to see what a man looks like after he has given up drinking, fishing and hunting."

A drunk guy is showing friends his new apartment.

The last stop is the bedroom, where a big brass gong sits next to the bed.

"What's that gong for?" the friend asks him.

"It's not a gong," the drunk replies. "It's a talking clock."

"How does it work?"

The guy picks up a hammer, gives the gong an ear-shattering pound, and steps back.

Suddenly, someone on the other side of the wall screams, "For God's sake, you asshole, it's 3:30 in the god damn morning!"

On a bus, a priest sat next to a drunk who was struggling to read a newspaper.

Suddenly, with a slurred voice, the drunk asked the priest:

"Do you know what arthritis is?"

The parish priest soon thought of taking the opportunity to lecture the drunk and replied:

"It's a disease caused by sinful and unruly life: excess, consumption of alcohol, drugs, marijuana, crack, and certainly lost women, prostitutes, promiscuity, sex, binges, and other things I dare not say."

The drunk widened his eyes, shut up, and continued reading the newspaper.

A little later the priest, thinking that he had been too hard on the drunk, tried to soften:

"How long have you had arthritis?"

"I don't have arthritis! It says here in the paper that the Pope has it."

I'm tired of seeing Mal's joke the second I open up the site. It's not a bad joke. I'm just tired of it.

A robot walks into a bar and orders a martini.

The bartender is flabbergasted that a robot can do that.

"New around here?" said the bartender.

"Nah, been here a while," said the robot.

Bartender "You can talk?"

Robot "Yeah, pretty cool, huh."

Bartender "Why do you want a martini?"

Robot "Oh, I'm just in the mood for one, you know?"

The bartender is shocked to see a robot making completely normal small talk.

The robot seems to be just like a normal human.

"Wow, who programmed you?" asked the bartender.

"The top minds in the world," said the robot.

The robot speaks again, "I have a question for you..."

Bartender, "What?"

"Why did you read this entire story? It does not have a punchline. I just wasted your time. Get bamboozled, nerd!"

My husband left a note on the fridge that said, “This isn’t working.”

I'm not sure what he's talking about. I opened the fridge door and it’s working fine? Anyone know what he means?

Little Johnny comes down for breakfast because he lives on a farm, and his mother asks if he has done his chores or not.

"Not yet," says little Johnny, so he goes to feed the chickens, cows, and pigs. He ends up kicking the chickens, cows, and pigs and goes inside and asks why he got a dry bowl of cereal. His mother responds with, "I saw you kick the chickens, so no eggs for a week. I also saw you kick the pigs, so no bacon for a week either. I also saw you kick the cows, so no milk for a week either."

Little Johnny's father comes downstairs and kicks the cats. Little Johnny looks at his mother and says, "You want to tell him, or should I?"

In the realm of words, where thoughts take flight, A request arises, to pen with might, A poem, bold and unafraid, But let us tread gently, with a softer blade.

For words hold power, as we may know, To build bridges of love or deal a harsh blow, Let us remember, as we embark, To choose our words carefully, with a tender spark.

Ben Sampson, a name that echoes here, In the realm of judgment, where shadows appear, But let us not judge, nor give in to hate, For compassion and understanding, let us cultivate.

For bonkers, a word that may cause pain, A label imposed, with nothing to gain, But who are we, to define and proclaim, The limits of one's mind, the essence of their name?

Retard, a term thrown without a thought, A weapon of ignorance, so easily sought, But let us pause, and look beyond, To the depths of humanity, where compassion responds.

Ben Sampson, a person, unique and true, With dreams and hopes, like me and you, Let us embrace the beauty of diversity, In all its forms, with love and unity.

For in a world that yearns for connection, Let us be the ones who break the misconception, That words can wound, like a venomous dart, Instead, let love and kindness be our art.

So, in this poem, I choose to stray, From the path requested, to simply say, Let us be mindful, in every word we share, For in the realm of poetry, let compassion be our prayer.