Homemade Jokes

I hear you. I’m so ugly, I tried to Facetime my wife — she thought it was a butt dial.

I’m too ugly for Zoom, too. Every time I call someone, they complain about my webcam. That it’s on.

wakka wakka wakka

You're right. This pandemic's no joke. A friend asked if I can handle social distancing. I said, "I'm married, ain't I?"

take my wife... mask

Using reconciliation to get the bigger package? Sounds like when I sleep with my ex!

Reach around the aisle

and continuing the "jokes overheard in p-town" theme:

I started a substack. Come by tonight and I'll add you to the pile!

Tried putting some bits of those CGYOOMH films into a Prophet 2000 sampler and all that came out was silence. Those Curtis filters work really well!

So you've heard Linkin Park, but have you ever heard my Instagram band, Linkin Bio?

So I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during
the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one
set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most,
you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,

"cos u don't wash ur ass"

And Neanderthal said unto the Lord,

Fuck washing an ass

what do you call it when you point and laugh at someone else's climate disaster? no-shade-enfreude

Donna Summer went to a bar one night in the 70s, hoping to meet a nice man. She met a dashing, peculiar man in a trenchcoat. He seemed sweet, but something was off about him that she couldn't put her finger on. After a few dates, her heart was broken when the man removed his trenchcoat and revealed he was not a man at all, but four eels stacked on top of each other in a trenchcoat.

Her heart was broken. She felt so deceived. She stopped dating for a while. Her friend was worried about her and invited her out to go to a bar a few months later.

She talked to a few guys, but didn't really hit it off. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dashing man wearing a trenchcoat. She started to get up, and her friend smiled, but Donna then hesitated and sat back down, laughing to herself.
"Donna, why didn't you go talk to that man?", he asked. "You two might have hit it off!"
Donna replied - "This time, I know it's four eels."

I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (Oooooo)/ I am four eels/ Never meant to make your daughter cry/ I am several fish and not a guy

— joshh O))) (@JNalv) February 20, 2013

Terrific joke

lol ledge yesterday I spent all day wondering why my 'joek' felt so derivative and a friend shared that with me and I remembered I'd seen it years earlier.

Picasso great artists etc, great job with the shaggy dog lead up.

i felt really bad for donna summer in neanderthal's telling, and then really happy that she didn't fall for it a second time.

When the jester was thrown in jail, his wife was permitted to make funjuggle visits

Q: How do you catch a unique impala?

A: Unique up on him!

Q: How do you catch a tame impala?

(audience: “The tame way, shurely?”)

A: No!
You drown him in reverb.

Wye Oak?
Because Acorn

Tom Hanks dies and goes to heaven.

As he sit in the waiting room, he hears his name called by an archangel who invites him into a private room. All is white marble, lit from within, extending outward endlessly.

"Thomas J. Hanks?" asks the archangel.
"That's me," says Tom Hanks

"Mister Hanks, you are a blessed individual, a rare specimen among all that we in heaven call human."
"Me?"
"You. You have attracted the attention of the almighty with your mastery of the craft of storytelling, mendacity of emotion and wizardry of impersonation. Mister Hanks, it is my glorious duty to let you know that you are God's favorite actor."
"Oh my gosh."
"Indeed. Mister Hanks, what I am about to ask you is unprecedented in my many millennia as a servant of our Lord God but it comes directly from the Unknowable itself. God has requested a private audience with you."

"Wow!"
"Will you accept this request from your creator?"
"Well! Yeah!"
"We are pleased to hear this. Mister Hanks, I am sure you have much experience meeting with fans in your mortal life."
"Certainly."
"So I imagine you understand that fans have a picture in their minds of how they would like those meetings to go."
"Sure...?"
"We hope you will also understand the request that God Almighty, as a fan of you and your work, has asked me to convey to you today."
"Okay."
"God wants to take an audience with you whilst wearing the shared mortal garb of your greatest role."
"I don't understand."

"Mister Hanks, God has taken the most enjoyment from the role you played in Bosom Buddies."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"The 1980's ABC prime-time sitcom Bosom Buddies. It is the Almighty's favorite television program."
"Seriously?"
"An angel never lies, Mister Hanks. It is considered, in heaven, to be the greatest human drama ever created."
"But that was... I mean, it was a paycheck. I was doing it for a paycheck and I was young and-"
"Mister Hanks, the ways of God and man are unknowable. Much of what we think matters is nothing in the eyes of the universe. The plight of the smallest sparrow can move our Lord with all the impact and pity of a hundred years of human war. The Divine is as truly Unknowable and so are its ways."
"I was nominated for six Oscars."
"Nevertheless! It is unwise to question Divinity!"

The face of the archangel shimmers, revealing a vulpine visage rising from some impossible depth, teeth dripping ichor and blood, eyes like embers of fire...

"No! Wait!" screams Tom Hanks. "I'm sorry! I didn't... of course! I'll do it! I would be overjoyed to be in his presence!"
"Its presence."
"ITS presence, of course! Anything! Anything for a fan!"

The angel reassumes its previous form.

"We are pleased to hear this Mister Hanks. And we trust you would be willing to... indulge this particular fan?"
"Without question! Anything! It's an honor!"
"Excellent. So as I was saying, God loved you in Bosom Buddies."
"Right. Great... great show."
"And as a fan, the Almighty would like to meet with you in character."
"I... well, sure!"
"Wearing the costume you wore in that program."
"The, the dress? The wig and the dress?"
"As you say, the wig and the dress. And then the Unknowable will appear in the mortal garb of your costar."
"...okay?"
"And the two of you will be, in visage and in heaven, truly Bosom Buddies."
"Okay."
"It's for a selfie."

Well, thinks Tom Hanks, why not? He has been to thousands of funders' brunches, industry meet and greets, press tours, red carpets. What's one more now? And so what if it's in a dress and a wig? The years have not been kind to the outdated drag caricature he played so many years ago and it has never set quite right with Tom Hanks in his heart that he rose to prominence on his strength playing a sexist stereotype. Perhaps this meeting is an equalling to some cosmic scale, a final opportunity to repay a cultural debt on behalf of millions of men and women for whom passing was not comedy, but survival.

"You know what, let's do this!" says Tom Hanks.
"Excellent," says the archangel.

And suddenly a dressing model appears next to Tom Hanks with a floral print blouse, a pink pantsuit and a chartreuse silk scarf. Hanks changes into the costume.
From on high, as if on gossamer thread, an auburn wig of curly hair and a thick string of costume jewelry pearls descends. Hanks puts them on.
The marble floor silently opens up, like a toothless mouth, to reveal a makeup mirror and a selection of blushes, lipsticks, eyeliners, mascara. Hanks expertly applies his face.

Tom Hanks is alone in the room of infinite marble now, reaching into his past and resurrecting Kip Wilson, Manhattanite graphic artist in his twenties. Or wait! Did God expect to meet Buffy? Was he meant to be in character as his character or as his character in character? There is no time to decide.

A supernova flash explodes before his eyes, leaving everything white on white, incomprehensible and stunning. Hanks' vision slowly starts to clear and he sees before him, only a few feet away, a creation of pure and exquisite light, draped over with the very same dress and wig that he has just put on himself.

There is a voice that's not a voice. It sounds to Tom Hanks like that of his mother and father and self and the ocean all wrapped into one.
The voice says: "TOM HANKS!"

And then again, this time discernibly querulous:
"TOM.... HANKS?"

Tom Hanks says "Yes God?"

There is a grumble like a volcano.
"ARE YOU... THOMAS JEFFREY HANKS?"
"Yes God."

A pause like that after a lightning bolt.
"... THE ACTOR?"
"I.. I like to think so God."

The grumbling again now, but it is less volcano and more throaty and impersonal, more a voice from a drive-thru loudspeaker.
"OH. OH DEAR. THIS IS EMBARRASSING."

Tom Hanks squints into the light. "Lord? Is everything alright?"

"I AM SORRY MY SON. IT'S JUST THAT... WELL, I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE OTHER ONE."

"The other one?"

"THE LITTLE ONE. THE BLONDE. WHAT WAS HIS NAME?"

"You mean Peter? Peter Scolari?"

"RIGHT! RIGHT, RIGHT. SCOLARI. I ALWAYS FORGET HIS NAME. SO THAT'S DEFINITELY NOT YOU THEN."

"Um. No?"

"GOT IT. MY BAD. AND YOUR NAME WAS...?"

"I'm... I'm Tom Hanks."

"TOM HANKS! OF COURSE! TOM HANKS! GIVE ME A MOMENT HERE..."

There is the sound of a hundred thousand abaci beads clicking, a million keystrokes, the scratch of quill on parchment, books cracking open, accounts being read.

"TOM HANKS, TOM HANKS, TOM HANKS. AH YES! TOM HANKS!" says God.

"YOU GO TO HELL."

i have a lengthy joke about tom hanks going to heaven if anyone wants to hear it in person.
― Steve 'n' Seagulls and Flock of Van Dammes (forksclovetofu), Tuesday, November 4, 2014 8:41 PM (six years ago)

stole this from someone else so idk but it fits the general vibe

if you were a child when "red red wine" was released ub40 ish now

lol oof

lmao

what is the name of the female-fronted goth band in game of thrones?
the misters of cercei

"Thank you for calling Faith No More's billing department. How may I help you?"

"I have a $12 charge on my monthly invoice that I don't recognize. What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

"It's it."

"What is it?"

Just now reading Forks' shaggy dog story. Wonderful attention to detail; I'm still chuckling at "less volcano and more throaty and impersonal, more a voice from a drive-thru loudspeaker." Kudos.

thanks. it took most of my day to write that fuckin thing out!

it's brilliant. excellent work. i also learnt the word "ichor"

The dissident Chinese artist decided it was time to drop some pounds when he looked in the mirror one morning and thought "Ai Wei Wei too much."

Why did the Grateful Dead boycott the poetry reading?

Because they hate Ashbery.

Ok, there's no way someone didn't make that joke already, but it made me chuckle.

I refrained from Googling to avoid having my bubble burst that I was the first to come up with it.

A number of years ago I spent a wine-laden dinner with a few friends developing our idea for an Octopi Wall Street t-shirt only to search later and find that the pun had been thoroughly explored by others

Yeah, probably best not to Google. I got in the habit many years ago to check my jokes. Sometimes I'd be pleasantly surprised. But these days by the time I come up with something like Demogorgon Lovato or whatever, it's invariably been thought of by someone else.

Often wasted in the title of a blog post

Who is Philadelphia's greatest crab martial artist that is also a barrier against group transport?

Jawn Clawed Van Dam

Whoa!

It's like opening a Christmas cracker only to be socked with a cryptic crossword clue.

Aine Baich & the Beattitz

Enya Marx & the Get Set

Have you seen all these kids going around looking like ex-grebo film composers and racing drivers from the 90s? Mansell culture has gone too far if you ask me.

q: what's the weed situation like at the satanic snake-handler church?

a: you can find a pentagram, but it'll pentacost ya.

thumbs up

There's like a total anarchist running around the home improvement store trying to destroy capitalism.
So he gets to the paint dept and decides that the best way to make an immediate change is to throw paint at the wall. He picks up the first tin and its like a scarlet, not quite what he's looking for, leaves a massive splash, its like painting the town red. But doesn't quite have the effect he's looking for.
So he moves around the section a bit then picks up the next one, it's a mauve, he feels a bit better but it just doesn't scratch that aesthetic itch.
While he's running from the security guard he checks his paint card.
Then he looks at the section that would really match his colour palette . But when he goes to the right area he finds there's no tins there.
That's right there's NO FUSCHIA

oh, maybe he was a nihilist

nice.

I once went to a party when everyone had to dress like characters from Norse mythology.

It was a Loki event.

how does a Centrist like their toast?

BUTTERED ON BOTH SIDES

grilled

I once went to a party when everyone had to dress like characters from Norse mythology.

It was a Loki event.

― Grandpont Genie, Thursday, June 10, 2021 1:45 PM (three hours ago) bookmarkflaglink

How many people were thor?