Loved the Following Jokes And Thought You’d Love Them As Well! Pass Them On!

(Originally appeared on McSweeney's, December 13 2001)


Two women are playing golf. The first tees off and watches in horror as her ball heads directly at a foursome of men playing the next hole.

Indeed, the ball hits one of the men, and he immediately clasps his hands together at his crotch, falls to the ground, and proceeds to roll around in agony.

The woman rushes over to the man and begins to apologize. She says: “Please allow me to help. I’m a physical therapist and I know that I could relieve your pain if you’d allow.”

“No, I’ll be all right . . . I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” he replies as he remains in the fetal position, still clasping his crotch. But she persists, and he finally allows her to help. She unzips his pants, puts her hands inside, and begins to massage him. She then asks: “How does this feel?”

To which he rejoins: “It feels great, but my thumb still hurts like hell!”

After a short pause, in which nothing is said, there is this exchange:

“You think you’re so funny?” asks the lady, beginning to cry. “I spent many years training to become a physical therapist. My husband has a terrible heart condition and could die at any time. We’re in debt for thousands. The only reason I’m playing golf this morning is to take my mind off all my problems. And I need you and your stupid jokes? I don’t think so. You’re no comedian!”

The man, too, begins to cry. He stands up. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he cracks wise: “I’m new at playing practical jokes and I’m slightly drunk. This is not how I usually act! I promise you that I won’t do it again! Okay?”

“Okay,” quips the lady, still crying, but not as hard. “All right then, okay.”


One day, while on vacation in the big city, two rednecks, Bubba and Daryl, leave their hotel to have dinner. Tired and hungry, they decide to stop in at a kosher deli.

After having a seat, they ask the waitress what the house specialty is. She replies that it’s matzo ball soup.

A few minutes later, the waitress brings the bowls of soup to Bubba and Daryl. They’ve never seen anything quite like this, but being hungry, they quickly eat the soup.

After they finish, the waiter arrives.

“How did you like your soup?” she asks.

To which Bubba zings: “Mmm mmm, that was good! But tell me . . . do you Jewish folks eat other parts of the matzo, or just the balls?”

There is no laughter, just silence, broken only by the sound of the waitress grinding her dentures. “Are they making fun of me?” she thinks. “Or are they just being cute?” She’s not quite sure.

“Are you making fun of me?” asks the waitress.

“Listen,” says Bubba, “we’re only making fun of ourselves. Let’s face it, we look just like two hicks, so we enjoy playing up the stereotype. No big deal. Just a joke. We actually love matzo ball soup!”

The waitress, not believing him, grabs the first item that she can find, a wooden broom-handle, and begins to swing wildly. She sets upon the two with a vengeance, all the while trying not to disturb the dinner party taking place upstairs.

She hates being mocked more than anything.


A boy is walking down the street when he notices his grandpa sitting in his rocking chair on the front porch, wearing nothing from the waist down.

“Grandpa, what are you doing?” the boy asks.

The old man looks off in the distance and does not answer.

“Grandpa, what are you doing sitting out here with nothing on below the waist?” the boy inquires.

Without missing a beat, the old man retorts: “Well, last week I sat out here with no shirt on and I got a stiff neck. So, this is your grandma’s idea!”

The air is still, and in the distance, a car horn can be heard.

The boy does not say anything, just stares at his grandfather’s aged, sickeningly white penis. After a few moments, the boy takes a bite out of his peanut-butter sandwich, waves goodbye, and leaves for his friend Jeffrey’s house.