Friar's Club Encyclopedia of Jokes

by Barry Dougherty

  “Louise,” he moaned, “tell me what went on last night. Was it as bad as I think?”

  “Even worse,” she assured him, her voice dripping with scorn. “You made a complete ass of yourself, succeeded in antagonizing the entire board of directors, and insulted the president of the company to his face.”

  “He’s an asshole—piss on him.”

  “You did,” Louise informed him. “And he fired you.”

  “Well fuck him,” retorted Dawkins feebly.

  “I did. You’re back at work on Monday.”

  A man was working at a construction site where each day the boss left at 11:00 A.M. and was gone for two hours. This became such a regular occurrence that the rest of the workers decided to spend the two hours in the bar across the street. The man, however, decided to head home for some extra nookie with his wife. When he got home, he found his boss busy banging his wife in the bedroom! Well, he walked right out and headed back to the job.

  The following day, the man was working his ass off when everyone headed across to the bar. “Hey, aren’t you coming?” asked one of them.

  “Hell no,” said the man. “I almost got caught yesterday!”

  The orderly’s duties included bringing his new boss a cup of coffee at six o’clock every morning, and every morning the boss was enraged because the coffee cup arrived two-thirds full. None of his insults and fits of rage produced a full cup of coffee, until he threatened the fellow with a one-third cut in pay.

  The next morning he was greeted with a cup of coffee full to the brim, and the morning after that, and the morning after that. Finally, the boss couldn’t resist smugly complimenting the orderly on his mastery of the new technique.

  “Oh, there’s nothing much to it, sir,” admitted the fellow cheerfully. “I take some coffee in my mouth right outside the mess hall, and spit it back in outside your door.”

  The two old coots were both only a year short of retirement from the assembly line but, one Monday morning, that didn’t keep Joe from boasting to Manny about his sexual endurance.

  “Three times,” gasped Manny admiringly. “How’d you do it?”

  “It was easy.” Joe looked down modestly. “I made love to my wife, and then I rolled over and took a ten-minute nap. When I woke up, I made love to her again and took another ten-minute nap. And then I put it to her again. Can you believe it! I woke up this morning feeling like a bull, I’ll tell you.”

  “I gotta try it,” said Manny. “Lorraine won’t believe it’s happening.”

  So that night he made love to his wife, took a ten-minute nap, made love to her again, took another nap, woke up and made love to her a third time, then rolled over and fell sound asleep.

  He woke up feeling like a million bucks, pulled on his clothes, and ran to the factory, where he found his boss waiting outside for him.

  “What’s up, Boss?” he asked. “I’ve been working for you for twenty years and never been late once. You aren’t going to hold these twenty minutes against me now, are you?”

  “What twenty minutes?” growled the boss. “Where were you Tuesday? Where were you Wednesday?”

  The slave driver of the Roman galleon leered down at his galley slaves and bellowed, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news. The good news is that you’ll be getting double rations tonight.”

  The murmuring of the surprised slaves was interrupted by the bellow of the slave driver. “The bad news is that the commander’s son wants to water ski.”

  Business

  Sign in a corporate boardroom: “Thank heavens this is a free country where you can do exactly as the government pleases.”

  “My boy decided to go into business on a shoestring,” said George. “He’s tripled his investment, but he’s still not satisfied, can you believe it?”

  “Why not?” asked his friend.

  “He can’t think of anything to do with three shoestrings.”

  Two shoe salespeople were dispatched to a remote African country. In just a few days, their employer received telegrams from each.

  One read: “Get me out of here—no one wears shoes.” The other read: “Send more inventory—no one here owns shoes.”

  One New York shoe store ordered a large consignment of shoes from a manufacturer in Buffalo. A week later the store manager received a letter saying, “Sorry, we cannot fill your order until full payment is made on the last one.”

  The manager wrote back, “Please cancel the new order. I can’t wait that long.”

  —JOEY ADAMS

  First entrepreneur: I’ve got a great idea. I’m going to open up a bar and grill in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

  Second entrepreneur: That’s a ridiculous idea. You’ll be lucky to get more than one customer a month.

  First entrepreneur: Okay, but just think how thirsty he’ll be!

  Deciding it was time for a history review, the teacher asked the class, “Who can tell me what historical figure said, ‘I have not yet begun to fight’?”

  The little Japanese girl in the front row raised her hand and answered, “John Paul Jones.”

  “Very good, Miako. Now, who can tell me who said, ‘I regret that I have but one life to give for my country’?”

  Again the little Japanese girl was the only one to raise her hand, and piped up, “That was Nathan Hale.”

  The teacher said to the class, “What’s going on? So far, Miako is the only one to answer any of my questions.”

  Suddenly a voice was heard from the back of the room. “Aw, fuck the Japanese!”

  “Who said that?” asked the teacher sharply.

  Miako’s hand shot up. “Lee Iacocca!” she said brightly.

  —WAYLAND AND MADAM

  Don’t trust a computer you can’t throw out a window.

  —STEVE WOZNIAK

  Three guys went into business for themselves. Said the first, “I put up sixty-five percent of the capital, so I’m the president and chairman of the board.”

  “I put up thirty percent of the money,” said the second, “so I’m appointing myself vice president, secretary, and treasurer.”

  “Well I put up five percent,” pointed out the third partner. “What’s that make me?”

  The chairman said, “I’m appointing you vice president of sex and music.”

  “That sounds mighty fine,” said the third man, “but what does it mean?”

  “It means that when I want your fucking advice, I’ll whistle.”

  “How’d you get this big executive job?” asked the secretary. “You’ve only been here three months.”

  The young man shrugged modestly and explained, “I ran into my father and he took a liking to me.”

  —JOEY ADAMS

  Struthers was assigned to show an important stockholder around the rubber-goods factory. The woman nodded approvingly when shown the giant machine that spit out an endless stream of rubber nipples.

  “One of our steady sellers, lotsa babies being born these days,” Struthers explained.

  Not much later the stockholder inquired as to the function of another huge machine spitting out little rubber discs. “Condoms,” Struthers informed her. “Big sellers, too.”

  “Understandably,” she commented. “But why’s that needle coming down and punching a little hole in each one?”

  “Hey,” he whispered conspiratorially, “we can’t let the nipple business go downhill now, can we?”

  Loeb and Weinstein were discussing the affairs of a fellow textile merchant. “Did you hear about Schwartz?” asked Loeb.

  “Hear what? How’s business for him?”

  “Finished. Over the weekend his warehouse burned to the ground.”

  “Such a nice guy, Schwartz,” responded Weinstein. “And finally he gets the good luck he deserves.”

  The bum rang the doorbell of a Beverly Hills mansion, and rang and rang, undissuaded by the fact that it was the middle of the night.

  Finally, ten minutes later, the disheveled homeowner came to th
e door, pulling his silk dressing gown around him.

  “What are you doing leaning on my doorbell at this hour?” he asked.

  “Can I have two dollars?” asked the bum.

  “Why did you have to wake me out of a sound sleep for two goddamn dollars?” the millionaire raged.

  “I don’t tell you how to run your business,” was the cool response, “so don’t tell me how to run mine.”

  An elderly real estate businessman and his young protégé are standing on top of a ridge overlooking a vast valley of undeveloped land. The businessman says, “Stick with me, kid, and someday that will all be mine.”

  You don’t want another Enron? Here’s your law: If a company can’t explain in one sentence what it does, it’s illegal.

  —LEWIS BLACK

  The businessman decided it was time to give his daughter, a recent business school graduate, a little lecture. “In business, ethics are very important,” he began. “Say, for instance, that a client comes in and settles his account with a hundred-dollar bill. After he leaves, you notice a second hundred dollar bill stuck to the first one. Immediately you are presented with an ethical dilemma. . . .” The businessman paused for dramatic effect. “Should you tell your partner?”

  You may recall that not too long ago the state of Kentucky enticed Toyota to build a plant near the city of Georgetown, after offering the company a very sweet deal. Well, one day Martha Layne Collins, the Governor of Kentucky, was scheduled to meet with both the Pope and the president of Toyota. Very upset, her secretary rushed into her office with the confession that she had scheduled both appointments for the same time, and that both distinguished visitors were on their way.

  “Which do you want to see first?” she asked the governor.

  “I’ll see the Pope first,” Collins answered. “I only have to kiss his ring.”

  Weiss and Stein went into business together and opened a wholesale men’s clothing outlet. Things went well for a year or so, but then the recession came along and they found themselves sitting on ten thousand plaid jackets, which they couldn’t sell to save their souls. Just as they were discussing bankruptcy, a fellow came in and introduced himself as a buyer for a big menswear chain in Australia. “Wouldn’t happen to have any plaid jackets would you?” he asked. “They’re selling like crazy down under.”

  Weiss looked at Stein. “Maybe we can work something out, if the price is right,” he said coolly to the Aussie.

  After some tough negotiating, a price was agreed on and the papers were signed. But as he was leaving, their big prospect said, “Just one thing, mates. I’ve got to get authorization from the home office for a deal this big. Today’s Monday. If you don’t get a cable from me by Friday, the deal’s final.”

  For the next four days, Stein and Weiss paced miserably back and forth, sweating blood and wincing every time they heard footsteps outside their door. On Friday the hours crept by, but by four o’clock they figured they were home free—until there was a loud knock on the door. “Western Union!” a voice called out.

  As Stein collapsed, white-faced, behind his desk, Weiss dashed to the door. A minute later, he rushed back into the office waving a telegram. “Great news, Stein,” he cried jubilantly, “great news! Your mother’s dead!”

  C

  California

  California is a fine place to live—if you happen to be an orange.

  —FRED ALLEN

  The only difference between California and yogurt is that yogurt has active culture.

  —WOODY ALLEN

  I just heard about the Mercedes back-to-school sale in Beverly Hills.

  —RED BUTTONS

  So you call this California, the land of golden sunshine, do you? Well, let me tell you something. Every day of every year, the sun shines on New York three hours before it shines on you, so all California gets is New York’s secondhand sunshine. Think that one over.

  —JAMES THORNTON

  Everybody in Los Angeles is in therapy. It’s a good thing they don’t have parking spaces for the emotionally handicapped. There’d be no place to park.

  —JACKSON PERDUE

  They know only one word of more than one syllable here, and that is fillum.

  —LOUIS SHERWIN

  An intellectual in Hollywood is anyone who can read freeway signs without moving his lips.

  You can take all the sincerity in Hollywood, place it in the navel of a fruit fly, and still have room enough for three caraway seeds and a producer’s heart.

  —FRED ALLEN

  “When I first came to Hollywood, Joe greeted me at the Friars and said, “This is the only t-town in the country wh-wh-where you wake up in the m-m-m-morning and listen to the birds coughing.”

  —MILTON BERLE, ABOUT JOEY FRISCO

  Los Angeles is a great place. Where else can you smell the air and see it coming at you at the same time? You want to see blue water, you have to look in the toilet bowl.

  —JACKIE GAYLE

  Living in California adds ten years to a man’s life. And those extra ten years I’d like to spend in New York.

  —HARRY RUBY

  There are two million interesting people in New York and only seventy-eight in Los Angeles.

  —NEIL SIMON

  How many Californians does it take to change a lightbulb?

  Six. One to turn the bulb, one for support, and four to relate to the experience.

  Good news: Adolf Hitler has been found, alive! And he’ll be tried for murder.

  Bad news: He’ll be tried in California.

  Cars and Driving

  Have you noticed? Anyone driving faster than you is an idiot, and anyone driving slower than you is a moron.

  —GEORGE CARLIN

  What a horrible car accident. I had the right of way, but the other guy had the truck.

  How come you have to pay someone to rotate your tires? Isn’t that the basic idea behind the wheel? Don’t they rotate on their own?

  —JERRY SEINFELD

  I was in a cab the other day, and—you’ll find this hard to believe—it was actually driven by an American citizen.

  —STEVE ALLEN

  What did it say on the redneck’s bumper sticker?

  I Know Jack Shit.

  Signs on the freeway are funny. They have a sign that says, “Orange Cones Mean Men at Work.” What else could orange cones mean? Psychedelic witches embedded in asphalt?

  —KAREN BABBIT

  I like driving around with my two dogs, especially on the freeway. I make them wear little hats so I can use the car pool lanes.

  —MONICA PIPER

  A hundred years ago we were much smarter. Then you lived until you died, and not until you were just run over.

  —WILL ROGERS

  Everything is drive-through. In California they even have a burial service called Jump-in-the-Box.

  —WIL SHRINER

  The wheel was man’s greatest invention until he got behind it.

  —BILL IRELAND

  A lot of friction is caused by half the drivers trying to go fast enough to thrill their girlfriends and the other half trying to go slow enough to placate their wives.

  —BILL VAUGHAN

  A man was driving along in his beat-up old Dodge, when suddenly it broke down. He was parked on the side of the road, trying fix it, when a Jaguar pulled up in front of him and offered to help.

  After a few minutes the two men obviously weren’t going to get the old car going again, so the Jaguar driver offered to tow the Dodge to the nearest garage.

  A few minutes later the two had hitched up the old Dodge to the Jaguar, and they agreed that if the Jaguar driver was going too fast, the man should blow his horn and flash his lights to get him to slow down. With that, the two men got into their cars and the Jaguar driver started to pull away, with the Dodge behind it.

  At the first traffic light, a Ferrari pulled up beside the Jaguar and started to rev his engine provocatively. As soon as the light turned green, the Ferrari and
Jaguar drivers hit their accelerators and took off. Before long the cars were racing at over 120 mph.

  As the cars sped along, they passed through a police speed trap. The officer couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the three cars go by, and he decided that he couldn’t catch them all by himself, so he decided to radio for help: “You won’t believe what I just saw! I saw a Ferrari and a Jaguar doing 120 mph side by side, and a beat-up old Dodge behind them flashing his lights and blowing his horn trying to get by!”

  I think all cars should have car phones in them and their license plates should be their phone numbers. So you can call ’em up and tell ’em to get the hell out of the way. Old people would have eight-hundred numbers.

  —JOHN MENDOZA

  Why do they call it rush hour when nothing moves?

  —ROBIN WILLIAMS

  Nothing depreciates your car so fast as a new model in your neighbor’s garage.

  The gas-station attendant looks at the car and says, “You got a flat tire.”

  I say, “No, the other three just swelled up.”

  —WILL ENGVALL

  Some guy came running up to me the other night and said, “Somebody stole my car!”

  I said, “Did you see him?”

  —BILL BARNER

  What does it take to get a cab driver’s license? I think all you need is a face. This seems to be their big qualification. And a name with eight consonants in a row. Have you ever checked out some of the names on the license? The o with the line through it? What planet is that from? You need a chart of the elements just to report the guy: “Yes, Officer, his name was Amal—and then the symbol for boron!”

  —JERRY SEINFELD

  I was stopped once for going fifty-three in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone, but I got off. I told them I had dyslexia.

  —SPANKY (STEVE MCFARLIN)

  The guy was such a bad driver, the police gave him a season ticket. . . .

  Kermit: Fozzie, where did you learn to drive?

  Fozzie: I took a correspondence course.