Encyclopedia of Humor

A husband and wife had four boys. The odd part of it was that the older three had red hair, light skin, and were tall, while the youngest son had black hair, dark eyes, and was short.

The father eventually took ill and was lying on his deathbed when he turned to his wife and said, “Honey, before I die, be totally honest with me – is our youngest son my child?”

The wife replied, “I swear on everything that’s holy that he is your son.”

With that the husband passed away. The wife then muttered, “Thank God he didn’t ask about the other three.”

Pierre, a brave French fighter pilot, takes his girlfriend, Marie, out for a pleasant little picnic by the River Seine. It’s a beautiful day and love is in the air.

Marie leans over to Pierre and says: “Pierre, kiss me!” Our hero grabs a bottle of Merlot and splashes it on Marie’s lips.

“What are you doing, Pierre?”, says the startled Marie.

“I am Pierre the fighter pilot! When I have red meat, I like to have red wine!

She smiles and they start kissing. When things began to heat up a little, Marie says, “Pierre, kiss me lower.”

Our hero tears her blouse open, grabs a bottle of Chardonnay and starts pouring it all over her breasts.

“Pierre! What are you doing?’, asks the bewildered Marie.

“I am Pierre the fighter pilot! When I have white meat, I like to have white wine!”

They resume their passionate interlude and things really steam up. Marie leans close to his ear and whispers, “Pierre, kiss me lower!”

Our hero rips off her underwear, grabs a bottle of Cognac and pours it in her lap. He then strikes a match and lights it on fire.

Marie shrieks and dives into the river. Standing waist deep, Marie throws her arms upwards and screams furiously,

“PIERRE, WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“I am Pierre the fighter pilot! When I go down, I go down in flames!”

The Lord spoke to Noah and said, “In six months I am going to make it rain until the whole world is covered with water and all the evil things are destroyed. But, I want to save a few good people and two of every living thing on the planet. I am ordering you to build an ark.” And, in a flash of lightning, he delivered the specifications for the ark. “OK,” Noah said, trembling with fear and fumbling with the blueprints, “I’m your man.”

Six months passed, the sky began to cloud up, and the rain began to fall in torrents. The Lord looked down and saw Noah sitting in his yard, weeping, and there was no ark.

“Noah!” shouted the Lord, “Where is My ark?” A lightning bolt crashed into the ground right beside Noah.

“Lord, please forgive me!” begged Noah. “I did my best, but there were some big problems. First, I had to get a building permit for the ark’s construction, but Your plans did not meet their code. So, I had to hire an engineer to redo the plans, only to get into a long argument with him about whether to include a sprinkler system.

“My neighbors objected, claiming that I was violating zoning ordinances by building the ark in my front yard, so I had to get a variance from the city planning board.

Then, I had a big problem getting enough wood for the ark, because there was a ban on cutting trees to save the spotted owl. I tried to convince the environmentalists and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service that I needed the wood to save the owls, but they wouldn’t let me catch them, so no owls.

“Next, I started gathering up the animals but got sued by an animal rights group that objected to me taking along only two of each kind.

“Just when the suit got dismissed, the EPA notified me that I couldn’t complete the ark without filling out an environmental impact statement on Your proposed flood. They didn’t take kindly to the idea that they had no jurisdiction over the Supreme Being. Then, the Corps of Engineers wanted a map of the proposed flood plan. I sent them a globe!

“Right now, I’m still trying to resolve a complaint with the Equal Opportunities Commission over how many minorities I’m supposed to hire. The IRS has seized all my assets claiming that I am trying to leave the country, and I just got a notice from the state that I owe some kind of use tax. Really, I don’t think I can finish the ark in less than five years.”

With that, the sky cleared, the sun began to shine, and a rainbow arched across the sky. Noah looked up and smiled. “You mean you are not going to destroy the world?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” said the Lord. “The government already has.”

Did you hear about the guy on the beach who found a bottle? He rubbed it and, sure enough, out popped a genie.

“I will grant you three wishes,” said the Genie. “But there’s a catch.”

“What catch?” he asked.

The genie replied, “Every time you make a wish, every politician in the world will receive double what you asked for.”

“Well, I can live with that! No problem!” replied the elated man.

“What is your first wish?” asked the Genie.

“Well, I’ve always wanted a Ferrari,” he said.

POOF! A Ferrari appeared in front of the man.

“Now, every politician in the world has two Ferraris,” said the genie. “Next wish?”

“I’d love a million dollars,” replied the man.

POOF! One million dollars appeared at his feet.

“Now, every politician in the world has two million dollars,” said the genie.

“Well, that’s okay, as long as I’ve got my million,” replied the man.

“What is your final wish?” asked the genie.

The man thought long and hard, and finally said, “Well, you know, I’ve always wanted to donate a kidney.”

Einstein dies and goes to heaven. Saint Peter says, “You look like Einstein, but you have no idea the lengths some people will go to, to sneak in. Can you prove who you really are?” Einstein ponders for a few seconds and asks, “Could I have a blackboard and some chalk?”

Saint Peter snaps his fingers and a blackboard and chalk instantly appear. Einstein proceeds to describe with arcane mathematics and symbols his theory of relativity. Saint Peter is suitably impressed. “You really are Einstein! Welcome to Heaven!”

The next to arrive is Picasso. Once again Saint Peter asks for his credentials. Picasso asks, “Mind if I use that blackboard and chalk?” Saint Peter says, “Go ahead.” Picasso erases Einstein’s equations and sketches a truly stunning mural with just a few strokes of chalk. Saint Peter claps. “Surely you are the great artist you claim to be! Come on in!”

Then Saint Peter looks up and sees George W. Bush. Saint Peter scratches his head and says, “Einstein and Picasso both managed to prove their identity. How can you prove yours?” George W looks bewildered and says, “Who are Einstein and Picasso?” Saint Peter sighs, “Come on in, George.”