Saturday, September 17, 2005

Favourite kids' jokes

While we're on the subject of kids (see previous post, Prize-winning essay) …

For some reason, I woke up thinking about two jokes that were favourites of mine when I was a kid.


Kids' joke #1:
Oliver:
Look at that bunch of cows.
Stan:
Not bunch — herd.
Oliver:
Heard what?
Stan:
Herd of cows.
Oliver:
Of course I've heard of cows.
Stan:
Not "heard of cows"; a cow herd.
Oliver:
What do I care if a cow heard? I didn't say anything I shouldn't have!
(I see someone has turned this first joke into an Amelia Bedelia routine. Amelia Bedelia wasn't around when I was a kid, but I'm sure I would have loved her. She's always getting words mixed up like that.)


Kids' joke #2:

Q. What's worse than flying low?
A. When your pilot's hanging out.

The remarkable thing is, I have a terrible memory for jokes; but all these years later, I still remember those two from my childhood.

Tell me, what are your favourite kids' jokes?



The server sez to me, "That'll be five dollars, please." Then I sez to the server, "Just put it on my bill." bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

3 Comments:

At 9:23 PM, September 18, 2005, Blogger Mary P. said...

Frenchman, German, and Englishman are debating whose is the more beautiful language.

Englishman catches sight of a butterfly, and begins to declaim. "Butterfly! Isn't that a beautiful, evocative word? English is the most beautiful language!"

The Frenchman says, "Ah, but my friend, listen to ze word 'papillion', so light, so ethereal. French is the most beautiful!"

The German raises himself up, and with great indignation sputters out, "Unt vat iss wrong mitt de vurd 'schmetterlink'???"

Yes, I did remember all this as a child - probably because one grandfather was a Brit, and the other German!

 
At 12:14 AM, September 19, 2005, Blogger Haley said...

First of all, I remember that joke too, Mum. I love it.

Now for my joke.

Notre Dame cathedral is advertising for a bell-ringer. Naturally Quasimodo answers the application. The priest lets him in and takes him to the belltower to demonstrate his bell-ringing prowess.

Priest: There's the rope, go ahead and give her a good pull.

Quasimodo: I don't ring the bell with the rope.

Priest: No? How do you ring the bell?

Quasimodo: I ring it with my face.

The priest is a little taken aback by this response, but being open-minded he asks Quasimodo to give a demonstration. Quasimodo takes a few steps back, runs at the bell, smacks into it with his face, and the bell rings.

Priest: That was impressive, but we do require that the bells be much louder than that.

Quasimodo: Not a problem.

He takes a few more steps back, runs harder at the bell, smacks into it with his face, and the bell rings loudly out over the town.

Priest: That was very good. Very good indeed. Tell you what, You get it a little louder than that and you've got the job. After all, this is Notre Dame, and we require our bells to be the loudest in the country.

Quasimodo: Absolutely, sure. Just one minute.

He backs up all the way back to the edge of the parapet, takes a run at the bell, misses, flies off the edge of the cathedral and falls to his death. Three peasants are walking by in the street and happen upon the corpse.

Peasant #1: Who is that poor fellow?

Peasant #2: I don't know, but his face rings a bell.

Peasant #3: He looks like a dead-ringer for Quasimodo.

Peasant #1: Oh yes, I had a hunch back there it was him.
-----
Ba Dum Bum! And that, my friends, is the only triple-punchline joke in existence, although, I must say, it much better when told by my father with all his voices and actions.

 
At 2:26 PM, November 03, 2015, Blogger سما احمد said...

افضل شركة كشف تسربات المياه بالرياض

 

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