Homemade Jokes

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?

Which classical Stoic philosopher had the largest breasts?

Epictitties

Imagine if Jesus decided that he was going to start his own religion. He goes to his disciples. Jesus says, "hey guys I got a great idea. Instead of claiming I'm King Of The Jews, let's just set out on our own and start our own religion." Disciples say, "sounds good to us." Jesus says, "I've been thinking about a good name for this new religion." Disciples say, "yeah? lay it on us."

Jesus says, "we shall call it... JESUSISM." Disciples offer polite applause but look at each other with concern. "That name is kinda shit," and then, "don't worry, we'll change it once he's dead"

What did the horse say upon entering the library and finding both food and a paper about a famous gothic novelist? Re: Joyce, Carrel Oats!

(Air Jordans somehow came up)

Me: Elvis Presley had them already! (silence) Jordan Airs?

(they didn't get it)

Wanna know why Elvis' letter was marked "Return to Sender"?

He didn't have the Stamps yet!

!!

why do you see so many stickers for feeding tube records?

because every time you release a record on feeding tube they give you a sticker as a reward

Elvis joke is A+. Kudos, pp.

So, a lot of people don't know this, but John Cage wrote 4'33" for his wife. He said he would have really liked her to perform it, but she never did.

*taps mic*

So, folks, how about these supply chain problems?

It's getting so bad, that I heard A$AP Rocky is changing his name to $hipping Delay Rocky

What's Cathy Guisewite's favorite Public Enemy album?

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us BAAACK

I clicked that fully expecting to see “Fear of an AACK Planet”

Oh shit! I didn't even think about that.

Her favorite Outkast record is Aackquemini.

We tried a new vegan recipe last night, but the soy-based protein we used must have been off, because the dish tasted awful... you could say it was bad tempeh-ed.

What kind of necklace did the goth goose wear?

Ankh ('onk!)

Q: What’s Cathy’s favorite AC/DC album?

A: Highway to Hell. She’s a Bon Scott purist.

But for her favorite song, she's torn between Let There Be Shops and Big Malls.

Lol

Let Me Put My Love Into Irving

What do you call a jazz musician with an aire of moral superiority?

Sanctimonious Monk

young woman drove to a restaurant that she had read about online. There were no reviews yet on Yelp, but the title was intriguing, as it suggested fresh local food and produce as opposed to processed foods.

She sat down at a table, and a waiter immediately came over. She indicated she would like a water and asked for a menu. The waiter nodded, then walked away. All of a sudden, she smelled a rancid smell that made her want to gag.

After taking a walk outside to breathe fresh air, she returned to her table to see the waiter bringing her a glass of water and putting down a menu. No sooner did she sit down, but the stank aroma was back. But it was not lingering scent from before, it was a new scent. The woman again had to go outside to get some fresh air, and was starting to get frustrated. She had a mind to tell them she was a prime Yelp reviewer when she returned inside.

When she came back inside, she started drinking her water, and began looking at the menu, and was surprised to see it full of mundane American bar food like sliders and chicken nuggets. When the waiter got back, the woman began to ask questions about the menu, and was shocked when she heard that all of the items were frozen, not locally sourced at all. Most of it was microwaved.
And then the smell hit again, and this time she actually started weeping tears it was so stinky. She got angry and demanded to see a manager.

When he arrived, she began to vent: "I've been here twenty minutes only to be treated to the rankest of smells, and also, I can't believe that unlike your advertising, none of this food is locally sourced from local farmers, and in fact, is all frozen! Who do you think you are?"

The manager looked confused - "I'm sorry, but we never claimed to be any of those things."

The lady's nostrils flared, and she said "BUT IT SAYS SO ON YOUR MENU".

The manager realized what was going on and said "Ugh, I was afraid of this. Ma'am, please take a look at the menu once again."

The lady looked down and was horrified to see that the menu actually said "Fart to Table".