Friar's Club Encyclopedia of Jokes

by Barry Dougherty

A doctor and his wife were having a big argument at breakfast.

  “You aren’t so good in bed either!” he shouted and stormed off to work But by midmorning he decided that he would try to make amends and he phoned home.

  After many rings, the wife finally picked up the phone.

  “What took you so long to answer?” he asked.

  “I was in bed.”

  “What were you doing in bed this late?”

  “Getting a second opinion!”

  A man was complaining to his friend: “I had it all . . . money, a beautiful house, a nice car, the love of a beautiful woman . . . then poof! It was all gone.”

  “What happened?” asked the friend.

  The first man replied, “My wife found out.”

  A little boy walks in on his mother and father when they’re having sex. His mother is on top of his father and she’s bobbing up and down.

  The little boy asks, “What are you doing, Mommy?”

  She replies, “Well, Daddy is getting fat, so I thought I would try to flatten his tummy.”

  The little boy says,” I don’t know why you bother, the minute you leave for work the maid comes in and blows it right back up again.”

  A wife and her husband were having a dinner party for all the high-society people in town. To show how classy they were, she decided at the very last minute that snails should be served, but all the stores were closed. So, she asked her husband to run down to the beach with the bucket she was handing him to gather some snails. Very grudgingly he agreed. He took the bucket and walked out the door, down the steps, and out to the beach. As he was collecting the snails, he noticed a beautiful woman strolling alongside the water just a little farther down the beach. He kept thinking to himself, “Wouldn’t it be great if she would even just come down and talk to me?” He went back to gathering the snails. All of a sudden he looked up, and the beautiful woman was standing right over him. They got to talking, and she invited him back to her apartment a little ways down the beach. “When they got there, they started fooling around. It got so hot and heavy that he was exhausted afterwards and passed out. At six thirty the next morning, he woke up and yelled, “Oh my gosh! My wife’s dinner party! She’ll kill me!!” He gathered all his clothes, put them on real fast, grabbed his bucket of snails, and ran out the door.

  He ran down the beach all the way to his apartment. As he started running up the stairs, he dropped the bucket of snails. Snails went flying and were all over the stairs. Just then the door opened, and his angry wife was standing there, wondering where he’d been all this time.

  He looked at the snails scattered on the steps, then he looked at her, then back at the snails and said: “Come on, little guys, we’re almost there!”

  Three men died and went to heaven. Upon their arrival, St. Peter asked the first man if he had been faithful to his wife. The man admitted to two affairs during his marriage. St. Peter told him that he could receive only a compact car to drive in heaven.

  Then St. Peter asked the second man if he had been faithful to his wife and the man admitted to one affair. St. Peter told him he would be given a midsize car to drive.

  The third man was asked about his faithfulness, and he told St. Peter he had been true to his wife until the day he died. St. Peter praised him and gave him a luxury car.

  A week later, the three men were driving around, and they all stopped at a red light. The men in the compact and midsize cars turned to see the man in the luxury car crying. They asked him what could possibly be the matter—after all, he was driving a luxury car.

  “I just passed my wife,” he told them, “and she was on a skateboard.”

  Two friends are having a drink at a bar. One says to the other, “You know, I ran into George on the street yesterday. He looked terrible, all beat up.”

  “Really?” the friend said. “What happened to him?”

  “That’s what I said. I said, ‘George, What happened to you? I thought you were living the life of Riley.’ And then George says to me, ‘I was, but he came home unexpectedly.’”

  Ever since they got married, Jan had a padlocked chest by the foot of their bed. Despite his pleading from time to time, she never revealed the contents to her husband, Bill. Finally, on their silver anniversary, she agreed to let him see the contents. He watched anxiously as she unlocked the chest and opened the lid. Inside were two ears of corn and fifteen thousand dollars. He looked at the chest and looked at his wife. Jan said, “It is like this: Every time I cheated on you, I put in an ear of corn.” He was surprised to learn she has been unfaithful. But twice in twenty-five years wasn’t that bad, so he smiled and asked, “What about the money?”

  “Well, every time I reached a bushel, I sold it.”

  Initiative and Incentive

  “When the aged president of the company was out of town, half a dozen of his senior executives got together to plan some way to ease the old coot out of the driver’s seat. To their horror, the executive VP’s secretary buzzed him halfway through the meeting and informed him that the president had come back early and was on his way to see him.

  “If he catches us all here, he’ll know exactly what we’re up to,” cried the VP. “Quick—you five, jump out the window!”

  “But we’re on the thirteenth floor,” protested the company treasurer. “Jump!” yelled the VP. “This is no time for superstition.”

  At the conclusion of his lecture to a group of young recruits, the legendary paratrooper asked for questions. A hand shot up. “What made you decide to make that first jump, sir?”

  Without hesitating, the paratrooper replied, “An airplane at eighteen thousand feet with three dead engines.”

  Two guys are being chased by a bear, when one stops to put on his sneakers.

  The other guy yells, “You idiot, you can’t outrun a bear.”

  The first guy gasps, “I don’t have to outrun a bear—I just have to outrun you.”

  Never put off until tomorrow what you can forget about entirely.

  Adultery is the application of democracy to love.

  —H. L. MENCKEN

  I’d kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

  —STEVEN WRIGHT

  Two skeletons used by the professor of anatomy found themselves stowed away in a dusty closet, and after several weeks of boredom, one turned to the other and asked, “What are we doing shut up in here anyway?”

  “Got me,” admitted his companion. “But if we had any guts, we’d get out of here.”

  There are three ways to get something done: do it yourself, hire someone, or forbid your kids to do it.

  Insurance

  Customer: I’d like to insure my house. Can I do it over the phone?

  Insurance agent: No, I’m afraid a personal inspection is necessary.

  Customer: Okay, but you better get over here quick—it’s on fire.

  “Don’t let me pressure you, Mrs. Schmidt,” said the aggressive life insurance salesman. “Why don’t you sleep on my offer and call me in the morning. If you wake up.”

  “What’s the best thing about turning sixty-five?

  No more calls from insurance salesmen.

  I used to sell life insurance. But life insurance is really a weird concept. You really don’t get anything for it. It works like this: You pay me money. And when you die, I’ll pay you money.

  —BILL KIRCHENBAUER

  The investigation into the fire that had destroyed Biaggi’s warehouse took almost a year. So when he received word that the case had finally been settled, Biaggi headed right over to his lawyer’s office to collect the insurance money. Once there, he was stunned by just how large a percentage the lawyer was retaining to cover his services.

  “Face it, Mr. Biaggi,” said the lawyer smoothly, “I’ve earned it, now, haven’t I?”

  “Jesus,” muttered the businessman under his breath, “you’d think you started the fire.”

  When Dan’s house burned down, his first phone call was to the guy who’d sold him
his homeowner’s policy. “I need a check for the cash value of my house, and I need it as soon as possible,” he said firmly.

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” explained the insurance agent politely. “See, yours was a replacement policy, which means that we’ll be rebuilding the house exactly as it was before.”

  “I see,” said Dan, after a long pause. “In that case, I want to cancel the policy on my wife.”

  Why is sex like insurance?

  The older you get, the more it costs.

  “Mommy, can I swim out to where the waves are breaking?” asked the little girl. The mother shook her head firmly.

  “Pleeeease?” she begged. “Daddy’s swimming out there.”

  “I know, darling, but he’s insured.”

  How many doctors does it take to change a lightbulb?

  It depends on what kind of insurance the bulb has.

  J

  Jewish American Princesses

  How about the new disease affecting Jewish women?

  It’s called MAIDS—if they don’t get one, they die.

  What’s the hardest thing for a JAP about having a colostomy?

  Trying to find shoes to match the bag.

  What’s a JAP’s idea of natural childbirth?

  Absolutely no makeup.

  What does a JAP say when she’s having sex?

  “Mom, I’ve got to hang up now. . . .”

  How do you give a JAP an orgasm?

  Scream, “Charge it to Daddy!”

  How many Jewish girls does it take to change a lightbulb?

  Two. One to hold the Diet Pepsi and the cigarette and one to call her father.

  Did you hear about the new Jewish army doll for girls?

  It’s called G.I. JAP.

  Why did the Jewish mother have herself entombed at Bloomingdales?

  So she could see her daughter at least twice a week.

  A Jewish princess is a girl who makes love with her eyes closed—because she can’t bear to see another person’s pleasure.

  —CHARLES SIMMONS

  What do you call a Japanese JAP?

  An Orienta.

  Why don’t JAPs like blow jobs?

  JAPs don’t like any kind of job.

  A Jewish girl pulls into a gas station.

  She says, “Do you charge batteries?”

  The kid says, “Yeah.”

  She says, “Well then, put in a battery and charge it to my father.”

  Did you hear about the JAP who asked her father for fifty dollars to go shopping?

  “Forty dollars,” he screamed, “what’re you gonna buy with thirty dollars?”

  What’s the difference between Jewish women and Catholic women?

  Catholic women have fake jewelry and real orgasms.

  Jewish Mothers

  There are only two things a Jewish mother needs to know about sex and marriage: 1. Who is having sex? 2. Why aren’t they married?

  —DAN GREENBURG

  How ambitious was the Jewish mother when it came to her offspring?

  Well, when a stranger inquired as to their ages, she replied, “The doctor’s in third grade and the lawyer will be starting kindergarten in the fall.”

  What’s a Jewish mother’s dilemma?

  Having a gay son who’s dating a doctor.

  Three Jewish mothers were sitting around comparing notes on their exemplary offspring. “There never was a daughter more devoted than my Judy,” said Mrs. Levine with a sniff. “Every summer she takes me to the Catskills for a week, and every winter we spend a week at Delray Beach.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what my Lois does for me,” declared Mrs. Stein proudly. “Every winter she treats me to two weeks in Miami, and in the summer, two weeks in the Hamptons, in my own private guest house.”

  Mrs. Lipkin sat back with a proud smile. “Nobody loves her mother like my Patty does, nobody.”

  “So what does she do?” asked the two women, turning to her.

  “Three times a week she gets into a cab, goes to the best psychiatrist in the city, and pays him a hundred and fifty dollars an hour—just to talk about me!”

  I’m Jewish, but we’re not religious. My mother had a menorah on a dimmer.

  —RICHARD LEWIS

  My mother’s a typical Jewish mother. Once she was on jury duty. . . . They sent her home. She insisted she was guilty.

  —CATHY LADMAN

  A young Jewish man takes his mother to a movie about life in ancient Rome. She has a little difficulty following the storyline, so at one point she asks her son to explain a scene in progress. “This particular scene,” he whispers, “shows how in those days the Romans often persecuted the Christians by throwing them into the arena to be devoured by lions.”

  Studying the gory image for a few moments, she points her finger at a lion in the far corner and shouts, “And dat vun—vy isn’t he eating?”

  How many Jewish mothers does it take to change a lightbulb?

  None—“I’ll just sit in the dark.”

  All Jewish mothers carry a card in their wallets. What does it say?

  “In case of an accident, I’m not surprised.”

  This isn’t about my mother, it’s about Jackie Clark’s mother. He got a job in a nightclub and he came home with a Kodachrome transparency of a beautiful girl. She was wearing dark-blue leotards. From the waist up, nothing. He said, “Ma, when I work in nightclubs, that’s the kind of girl I work with.”

  She looked at the picture and said, “That’s the color I want the drapes.”

  —BILL DANA

  What’s the difference between a Jewish mother and an elephant?

  Elephants eventually forget.

  Why aren’t Jewish mothers attacked by sharks?

  Professional courtesy.

  How can you tell the mother-in-law at a Jewish wedding?

  She’s the one on her hands and knees picking up the rice.

  How can you tell it’s a Jewish mother’s home?

  There’s a safety mat in the bird bath.

  Her anthropologist daughter has been off in the darkest jungle for fourteen months and has just announced her engagement to the man of her dreams. So the Jewish mother is almost beside herself with excitement that they are arriving home in time for the holidays. But at the airport, she is struck speechless when she sees her daughter come through the gate accompanied by a tall man with a bone through his nose, clad only in a grass skirt and bead necklace. Then she sobs, “Oh, Rachel, I wanted for you a rich doctor, not a witch doctor!”

  The first Jewish woman is elected president. She calls her mother:

  “Mama, I’ve won the election, you’ve got to come to the swearing-in ceremony.”

  “I don’t know, what would I wear?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll send you a wonderful dressmaker.”

  “But how will I get there?”

  “I’ll send an airplane just for you.”

  “But it’s such a schlep to the airport.”

  “Mama, I’ll send a limousine to take you to the airport.”

  “And what will I do when I get to Washington?”

  “There’ll be a helicopter waiting. And after the ceremony, you’ll come with me to a lovely dinner party.”

  “But you know I only eat kosher.”

  “I’ll be sure the food for you is kosher. Just come, Mama.”

  “Okay, okay, if it makes you happy.”

  The great day comes and Mama, beautifully dressed, is seated between two Supreme Court Justices. She nudges the gentleman on her right and says, “You see that girl, the one with her hand on the Bible . . . her brother’s a doctor!”

  Jews and Judaism

  Montgomery Epstein was taking an oral examination. He was asked to spell “cultivate,” and he did so correctly. “But do you know what the word means?” asked the teacher. “Can you use it in a sentence?”

  For a moment Montgomery looked puzzled. Then he brightened up and said, “Last vinter
on a very cold day, I vas vaiting for a streetcar. But it vas too cultivate, so I took the subvay.”

  Jews don’t mind drinking as long as it doesn’t interfere with their suffering.

  —MILTON BERLE

  Did you hear about the Jewish porn movie?

  It’s called Debbie Does Bubkis.

  —MILTON BERLE

  How can you spot a disadvantaged Jewish teenager?

  He’s driving a domestic car.

  The two old ladies were enjoying their after-dinner coffee at the Catskills resort when a flasher darted over to their table and opened his coat.

  “Hmmphhh,” snorted Sadie without blinking an eye. “You call that a lining?”

  An old Jewish man is talking long-distance to California when all of a sudden he gets cut off. He hollers, “Operator, giff me beck the party!”

  She says, “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to make the call all over again.”

  He says, “What do you want from my life? Giff me beck de party.”

  She says, “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to place the call again.”

  He says, “Operator, ya know vat? Take da telephone and shove it in you know vere!” And he hangs up.

  Two days later he opens the door and there are two big, strapping guys standing there who say, “We came to take your telephone out.”

  He says, “Vy?”

  They say, “Because you insulted Operator Twenty-eight two days ago. But if you’d like to call up and apologize, we’ll leave the telephone here.”

  He says, “Vait a minute, vat’s da rush, vat’s da hurry?” He goes to the telephone and dials. “Hello? Get me Operator Twenty-eight. Hello, Operator Twenty-eight? Remember me? Two days ago I insulted you? I told you to take da telephone and shove it in you know vere?”