by Robert Orben
My wife is a fantastic housekeeper. I mean, it’s all right to be clean—but who vacuums a lawn?
My wife is so fastidious, twice a week she files her nails—under N.
You should see the way she wraps the garbage. It looks so good, I don’t know whether to take it out or bring it in!
You think I’m kidding? Last Christmas the garbagemen gave her a tip!
Spring house-cleaning time is when it’s very easy for a husband to get his wife’s attention. All he has to do is sit down.
INCOME TAX
All the holidays are being switched around this year except one-April Fool’s Day. That’ll still be on April 15th.
It’s that time again. Last week three things were rated X. Two movies and a fella doing his income tax return!
April 15th is when you’re haunted by the Ghost of Earnings Past.
If you want to know what it feels like to be in the top income tax bracket—put a quarter in a coffee machine that’s run out of cups.
You remember the income tax. It’s like a do-it-yourself mugging.
If you think nobody knows you’re alive—try filing your income tax late!
Do you think it will work? My doctor just gave me a note for Internal Revenue. It says I’m allergic to taxes.
Some fellas have a picture of their wife and kids on their desk to remind them where their money goes. I have a picture of the IRS.
You have to admire the Internal Revenue Service. I didn’t think anybody could make that much money and not give out Green Stamps!
April 15th is the deadline. It’s called the deadline because if you don’t get it on the line—you’re dead!
April 15th is when the money supply gets out of hand. Out of your hand and into the government’s.
I think the Internal Revenue Service deserves a lot of credit. It’s brought poverty within the reach of us all!
Internal Revenue spares no one. I think its motto is: EVERY CLOD HAS A SILVER LINING.
The middle-income taxpayer is sometimes called a tool of the Establishment. Tool? He’s more like the nut that holds it together.
Income tax time is when the entire country is rated X.
Eighty million Americans have to come across.
I’ve got nothing against the income tax. It’s just that every time my ship comes in, the government unloads it.
This country has a graduated income tax.
What we really need is one that was left back!
Show me a tax cut in an election year and I’ll show you an income tax seduction!
You can always tell when income tax time is here. You know that outfit that sells thirty-one different flavors of ice cream? One of them is hemlock!
They say the average taxpayer works four months out of every year for the government—which is very disturbing. I’m not even sure people who work for the government work four months out of every year for the government.
But have you noticed the way the government is trying to make taxes a fun experience? It’s the first time I ever saw a Form 1040 fold out!
And the people at Internal Revenue are so polite when they ask questions. Like: “Sir, there are two items on your return that are rather interesting. One is $500 in contributions to Christian Science. The other is $800 in doctor bills.”
Even the President has to file an income tax return. Can you imagine the Internal Revenue Service asking the President questions about his return? “Tell me, Mr. President, do you have any liabilities?” And he says, “Yes, I do. Congress!”
INCOME TAX PREPARATION
Fear is taking your kid to a remedial math class and the person sitting next to him is your tax accountant.
I always get an accountant to do my taxes. Through the years I’ve found that a Form 1040 is easier read than done.
As far as I’m concerned, all tax preparation is H.
During the tax season the Internal Revenue Service has special phone numbers. They’re for people who like to hear busy signals.
Be honest now. Don’t you think the government gets a little personal in its income tax forms? I mean, it throws you questions Dun wouldn’t ask Bradstreet!
For those of you who are making out your income tax, remember that birth control pills are deductible—but only if they don’t work.
People keep asking, “What’s the difference between the short form and the long form?” Well, it’s really rather simple. If you use the short form, the government gets the money. And if you use the long form, your accountant gets the money!
Tell me, does anybody still do their own taxes? Taxes are now so complicated, what the U.S.A. doesn’t get, the C.P.A. does!
A lot of people have accountants do their income tax because it saves time. Sometimes twenty years!
My accountant always puts a little X where I’m supposed to sign. I think it stands for the language I use.
I was just talking to my accountant. I said, “076982.” That’s his pen name.
I knew I was in trouble when he had to look up the instructions to fill in one space. Where it said DATE!
INFLATION
Inflation is when last week’s prices are this week’s sales.
Inflation is when the tip you leave at lunch used to buy one.
Inflation is so bad, in Texas they’re calling cowboys buckandahalfaroos.
Inflation is when you live like a shopping cart. You go through life feeling pushed.
I can remember when you used to kiss your money good-bye. Now you don’t even get a chance to blow in its ear.
The whole idea of the anti-inflation campaign is to put a reasonable limit on profits. It’s like what a bartender does when the boss isn’t there.
I think we should give this Administration the credit it deserves. It hasn’t brought inflation entirely under control but it has confined it to prices and wages.
INTRODUCTIONS
Our speaker tonight was to have been a very famous Indian explorer but, I regret to say, he is now recovering from a rather serious mishap. He tried to come between two young lovers. Unfortunately, they were elephants!
INTRODUCING THE PROGRAM: In case you didn’t notice it, this happens to be an all-beef dinner. The milk is from cows; the meat is from steers; and now we’re going to have the bull.
INTRODUCTION FOR A MEMBER OF A FAMILY BUSINESS: As you all know, our speaker tonight started in the mailroom at [NAME OF HIS COMPANY] more than twenty years ago. And he worked in this mailroom for three months when somebody took a liking to him—his father.
JOBS
Positive thinking is when you work forty-eight hours a week in a steel mill; have a part-time job as a janitor; drive a cab on weekends; and when you write out the check to pay your income tax, you say, “Easy come. Easy go!”
Our personnel manager just showed me a really wild job application. It says: MARRIED? Four times, CHILDREN? No, grown women.
I have an uncle who’s a window dresser. That’s what the family calls him—a window dresser. The police call him an exhibitionist.
My brother-in-law hasn’t had a job in ten years and it isn’t his fault. There just isn’t much demand for his line of work. He’s a galley slave.
One of the happiest men I know is a Customs inspector in California. One of the customs he inspects is wife-swapping.
Americans aren’t quitters and you know why?
When you’re fired you get unemployment insurance!
JOGGING
America is the only country in the world where people jog ten miles a day for exercise and then take elevators up to the mezzanine.
Jogging is a perfect exercise. Thanks to jogging, for the first time in history people are dropping dead in perfect health.
You can always tell a middle-aged fella who jogs ten miles a day in the hot sun. He’s the one they don’t have to put makeup on at Forest Lawn!
If you want to run ten miles a day, it’s easy. All you have to do is put something around the edge of your shorts—lace!
&nb
sp; That’s the thing that’s always bothered me. You see all these people running around in their shorts. How do you know they’re jogging? Maybe they’re just chicken nudists!
You should see me in the morning. Yesterday two worms were chewing on a leaf; one of them looked up and saw me go by in my jogging shorts. He said, “Clarence, do you see what I see?” And the other worm said, “Please, not while I’m eating!”
I had to give up jogging. I won’t say what I looked like—but picture a plate of Jell-O in heat!
JUDGES
The truth shall make you free—unless you’re a criminal. In which case, the courts shall make you free.
It shows you how uninformed I am. Everybody’s worrying about the makeup of the Supreme Court. I didn’t even know they wore any.
Have you seen those long black outfits? They’re embarrassing. You put one on and right away you look like a hooker at Forest Lawn!
JULY FOURTH
Happiness on the Fourth of July is parents hearing their kids are shooting up—and it’s fireworks.
In spite of all the advertising, I know of only one group of people who want to have a Safe and Sane Fourth—newlyweds.
July Fourth is kind of a tradition in this country. In 1776 our leaders signed the Declaration of Independence, rang the Liberty Bell, and ever since then we’ve had ding-a-lings in government.
LANDLORDS
My landlord is all heart. He said he’s going to do his bit to curb air pollution. This winter he won’t run the furnace as often.
Our apartment is so cold, last night my wife put on the sexiest thing she has—a black lace overcoat!
Dear Mr. Landlord: I don’t want to be a complainer but yesterday I mixed daiquiris and put them where they could freeze in ten minutes—the living room.
LAS VEGAS
A junket is what you fly to Las Vegas on, and when you get back, it’s what the teller says you can do with your bankbook.
My neighbor just got back from Las Vegas. I said, “What did you think of the crap tables?” He said, “Beats me!”
I don’t want to brag but everybody takes me for forty. Everybody but Las Vegas. They took me for five hundred.
I just got back from Las Vegas. I’ll tell you one thing: The Red Cross isn’t the only one who’s out for blood!
LAWNS
The motto of every homeowner who has ever had trouble with a lawn: IN SOD WE TRUST!
We have one of those push-button lawn mowers. You put your belly button up against the handle and push!
Who came up with the idea that lawns should be cut? To your neighbors you’re a gardener. To God you could be a vandal.
You have no idea how expensive it is. I had the kid next door cut my lawn—fifteen dollars! I said, “Fifteen dollars to cut a lawn? What did you use—cuticle scissors?”
And you should see the job he did. Cut? It wasn’t even bruised!
LAWYERS
I’ll tell you how smart my lawyer is. He never graduated from law school. He was so smart, he settled out of class!
He’s a wonderful lawyer. So tenacious. One of his clients was hanged but even then he didn’t give up. He sued for whiplash!
My lawyer happens to be the Marquis de Sade of the legal profession. He’s making a fortune out of whiplashes.
He only handles personal injury cases. To him, justice doesn’t wear a blindfold—it wears a bandage!
I’m not saying he’s dishonest, but he believes in taking all of his cases to the jury—one member at a time.
He works on a contingency basis. That’s an old gold-mining term meaning he gets the gold and you get the shaft.
I shouldn’t complain. I once had a lawyer who was so clumsy, one time he threw himself on the mercy of the court—and missed!
He was one of those relaxed lawyers. He passed the bar ten years ago and he hasn’t passed one since.
Isn’t it great the way you always read a legal contract before signing it and you still have no idea what it’s all about? To this day, I’m always hurt when I’m not invited to the party of the first part.
A paternity suit is what happens when you leave the scene of an accident.
My lawyer is so bad, if I ever have to plead insanity, he’ll be Exhibit A.
LIFE INSURANCE
I don’t have to do this for a living, you know. When I was eighteen years old I invented the phrase “God Forbid!”—and ever since I’ve been collecting royalties from life insurance salesmen.
Did you hear about the insurance salesman who spent the afternoon in an X-rated movie? Went back to the office and wrote on his call report: “Saw two people who weren’t covered.”
Dumb? He’d sell a $50,000 life insurance policy to a lemming!
Watch out for the fella who’s an insurance agent, an estate planner, a financial adviser, and a mutual fund salesman. Right away he outnumbers you four to one.
Two months ago he sold me a $100,000 policy and last night he said it wasn’t enough. I got so mad I hit him with the biggest thing I could find—my premiums!
I don’t want to brag but I have so much insurance, if I go, Hartford goes too!
LIFE-STYLES
A commune is where kids learn how to live in a participatory democracy. They have to be kids. Anybody with dentures could never say participatory.
Psychologists keep saying there is no longer any authority in the home, which is ridiculous. There is plenty of authority in the home. What my kids say, goes!
This morning I heard my wife talking to the furniture store. She said, “I have a drip in my water mattress.” I said, “Dear, I don’t ask for praise but I do demand respect!”
WANTED: Four weight lifters.
OBJECT: To turn my water mattress.
If you have a water mattress, the first thing you look for in a girl friend is short toenails!
Washington, D.C., is a curious blend of high tensions and high living. One of the crucial questions that has to be faced each day is: “What wine goes with aspirin?”
A folk singer is someone who sings about the joys of the simple life—using a $5,000 sound system.
A lot of people today are like acupuncture—they work, but they don’t know why they work!
I know a couple—she’s overweight and he’s neurotic—and they’re a sensation at masquerade balls. They go as a horse and buggy!
A priest getting married is nothing new. Nowadays you’d be surprised how many men are fathers on their wedding day.
With all this talk about priests getting married, have you ever considered how awkward it is the first time one of them makes his move? He asks the girl to come closer and it’s like a famous hymn. She says, “Nearer? My God! To thee?”
When it comes to endangered species, how about people who say “Thank you”?
As any woman will tell you, there are three major parties in America today—Republican, Democratic, and Tupperware.
Kids are unbelievable. My daughter today is reading books on the bus that twenty years ago would have embarrassed our family doctor!
Presenting the shortest history book in the world: Many, many years ago there was a garden called Eden. In this garden there lived two people—Adam and Bruce.
I’d live within my income but it’s such a poor neighborhood.
LITTLE LEAGUE
Last night I umpired my first Little League baseball game. If you’ve never been to one, it’s like World War II with innings.
My kid is in the Little Leagues. He’s the greatest pitcher this team ever had. Last week he threw the ball six times—didn’t miss the bat once!
Little League is where the kid on the mound has five basic pitches—a fast ball, a slow ball, a curve, a sinker, and one that reaches the plate.
LOGIC
It doesn’t make sense—like a ten-thousand-car motorcade to protest air pollution.
It doesn’t make sense—like a masochist taking aspirin.
It doesn’t make sense—like giving my brother-in-law work clothe
s.
It doesn’t make sense—like jogging two miles to buy cigarettes.
It doesn’t make sense—like singing “O Come All Ye Faithful” at a wife-swapping party.
MARRIAGE
People just don’t take marriage seriously anymore. You can tell. There’s a department store downtown that carries its wedding gowns in the sporting goods section.
I had my doubts about this marriage thirty minutes before the ceremony—when the bride and groom were flipping a coin to see who got to wear the gown.
The Three Ages of Marriage: Twenty is when you watch Johnny Carson after. Forty is when you watch Johnny Carson during. Sixty is when you watch Johnny Carson instead.
Marriage is something, it’s plain to see,
That starts off X and ends up G.
Love is never having to say you’re sorry. Marriage is never having a chance to say anything.
Marriage is when you see a fella in his slippers and bathrobe taking out the garbage on a cold, rainy night—and you recognize him. It’s you!
They even have one of those sexy after-shave lotions called TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE. You put it on and, five minutes later, they’re all over you. Not women—ants!
I just read that last year 4,153,237 people got married. I don’t want to start any trouble, but shouldn’t that be an even number?
I think the romance has gone out of our marriage. My wife just sent me a twenty-fifth anniversary card. It was addressed to Occupant.
We would have gotten a divorce long ago but we tried to work it out—for the sake of the home movies.
I’m so unlucky, I have a collie, a fox terrier, and a poodle—and the only one who barks at me is my wife.