Pe'Pa's Best Jokes

I am now in my eightieth year. I’ve liked telling jokes since I was a youth. I guess, basically, I like making people laugh. When I first moved to Florida, I used to go every Saturday night to an Italian restaurant around the corner from my condo—not so much for the great food, but because of the pretty blond waitress. Her name was Sasha, and she had the sexiest Russian accent. She was fifty years too young for me, but a guy can dream. One night I told her my talking dog story: A man was walking down the street, and he saw a dog on somebody’s front lawn. Next to the dog was a sign. It said Talking Dog for Sale. The man looked at the sign, looked at the dog, and said, “I don’t believe it.” The dog spoke up and said, “Oh yes, it’s true. I’ve been able to speak since I was just a pup. A matter of fact, I’ve had a long career as a spy. They ship me off to conferences. I sit in the corner like I’m taking a nap, and I remember everything and come back and tell my handlers.” The guy said, “That’s fantastic. Why are they selling you?” The dog said, “I don’t know.” The guy went up to the door and knocked. Somebody came. The guy said, “Is this your dog?” The man said, “Yes.” The man asked, “How much do you want for him?” “Ah, you can have him for twenty dollars.” “Twenty bucks for a talking dog? Why so cheap?” the man asked. The owner said, “That dog’s a liar. He’s never been out of the front yard.” When I got to the part about the dog saying, “Oh yes, it’s true. I’ve been able to speak since I was just a pup,” Sasha held up her hand and said, “Is this a true story?” I haven’t dreamed about her since, and I haven’t been back to that restaurant again. I’ve tried to make this book G-rated. Although I like a good dirty joke, I have resisted including them here. I’ve also eliminated any jokes that might be considered racist, and I have stopped telling them. I hope that you enjoy this book. If you can improve on any of my jokes, let me know, and I might include your improvements in my next edition. Also, if you want to share a favorite joke, please send it to me. My e-mail address is ProValueBooks@outlook.com.

BLOG # 14

Sick

Negotiations between union members and their employer were at an impasse. One morning at the bargaining table, the company’s chief negotiator held up a newspaper.

“This man,” he announced, “called in sick yesterday. There on the sports page is a photo of the supposedly ill employee who had just won a local golf tournament with an excellent score.”

A union negotiator broke the silence in the room. “Incredible,” he said. “Just think of what score he could have had if he wasn’t sick.”

Inflation?

On a visit to see his grandmother, a teen boy listened as she went on and on about the cost of living.

“When I was young girl,” she moaned, “you could go to the store with a dollar and come home with food to feed the family for a whole week.

“Well, Grandma,” the boy replied, “we learned about that in school recently, and that’s called inflation.”

“Inflation nothing,” the grandmother answered. “No! It’s all those darn security cameras they got today,”

Divorced

Why did I get divorced?

Well, last week was my birthday. My wife didn’t wish me a happy birthday. My parents forgot, and so did my kids. I went to work and even my colleagues didn’t wish me a happy birthday.

As I entered my office, my secretary said, “Happy birthday, boss!” I felt so special. She asked me out for lunch. After lunch, she invited me to her apartment. We went there, and she said, “Do you mind if I go into the bedroom for a minute?”

“Okay,” I said.

She came out five minutes later with a birthday cake, my wife, my parents, my kids, my friends, and my colleagues all yelling, “Surprise!”

While I was waiting on the sofa—naked.

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