I try to avoid making nun jokes, but it’s a farce of habit.
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My son’s asked for a strange Christmas present this year. It’s really cheap though so I don’t mind.
I’m not sure why he wants an eggs box though.
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I tried to call Spider-Man, but he was busy browsing in the web.
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Why don’t we inhabit Uranus?
That place is a Gas Hole.
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Rise and shine!
It’s time to conquer the world... or at least the snooze button.
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You are so short you fell from curb and nearly dies.
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What’s the best way to organize a space party?
Planet early!
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What is the most common question the Finnish detective asks a suspect?
“What were you doing the night between November and May?”
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My exercise routine includes running away from my problems, running late, and running my mouth non-stop.
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Scientists have discovered that tuna ages about five times quicker than humans.
That’s because... tuna half hours equal 150 minutes.
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Good morning!
Monday through Friday, nine to 5, I reach function along with someone who reaches the workplace, with determination, increasing the spirits of every one of his office mates... after that there’s you! You are additionally at the workplace!
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Why did M&M go to University?
Because he wanted to be a Smartie.
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What does a coder do when he’s tired of life?
He writes byebyeworld.c.
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I tried to tell a joke about Uranus.
But I couldn’t planet right.
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How do retired sailors greet each other?
Long time no sea.
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How do you call a cow in Ramadan?
A Mooslim.
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The bird flu is pretty nasty.
Luckily, it’s tweetable.
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A salesman returns from his assignment in Saudi Arabia, where he went to sell them a new brand of Coca-Cola.
Seeing his crestfallen face, a friend asks him, “Why the long face?”
The salesman replied, “I failed in Saudi Arabia. The campaign was a total failure.”
“Why is that?” asked the friend. “I thought you had a good campaign running.”
“Well, when I got posted there, I was very confident that I would make a great sales pitch to the Saudis. But I had a problem—I didn’t speak Arabic, so I planned to convey the meaning of the message with the use of three images:
First poster: A man lying in the hot desert sand in utter exhaustion; he has fainted.
Second poster: The man is drinking the new Coca-Cola brand.
Third poster: Our man is now totally refreshed and feeling great.
I had these posters pasted all over the place. You couldn’t go anywhere without seeing them.”
“Terrific! That should have worked!” said the friend.
“It should have,” sighed the salesman. “Only no one told me they read from right to left…”
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In Darwin, Australia, a multi-millionaire wanted to throw a party and invited all of his friends and neighbors. He also invited Brian, the sole aboriginal in the area.
He threw the party in his mansion’s garden, around the pool. Everyone was having a terrific time drinking, dancing, eating grilled prawns and oysters, and flirting.
The millionaire then announced, “I have a 15-foot man-eating crocodile in my pool, and I’ll give a million dollars to anyone who joins him in the pool.”
The words had only left his mouth when there was a huge splash.
Everyone turned around to see Brian fighting the crocodile in the water, jabbing it in the eyes with his thumbs, throwing punches, headbutting it, choking it, biting its tail, and tossing it into the air like some kind of martial arts expert.
The water was swirling and splashing all over the place. Brian and the crocodile were both shouting and yelling.
Brian finally strangled the crocodile and let it float to the top of the pool like a dead goldfish after what seemed like an eternity.
Brian stepped out of the pool, weary, with everyone looking at him in surprise.
“Well, Brian, I think I owe you a million dollars then,” the millionaire responded.
“No way, boss, I don’t want it,” Brian replied.
So the millionaire says, “Man, I have to offer you something. You won the wager. How about a million dollars?”
“No, thanks, I don’t want it,” Brian said emphatically.
The millionaire again says, “Come on, I have to give you something. That was incredible. What about a brand-new Porsche, a Rolex, and some stock options?”
Again, Brian said, “No.”
“Well, Brian, then what do you want?” the rich man inquired, perplexed.
“I want the bastard who pushed me in,” said Brian.
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What does a programmer wear?
Whatever is in the dress code.
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