Category: jokes for nerds

What is a “free” gift? Aren’t all gifts free?
What makes cheese so confidential that we actually need cheese shredders?
Whatever happened to preparations A through G?
When cheese gets its picture taken, what does it say?
When cows laugh, does milk come out of their noses?
When they first invented the clock, how did they know what time it was to set it to?
Where are the germs that cause �good� breath?
Where do they get Spring water in the other 3 seasons?
Why are all blackboards called that when some of them are green?
Why are hemorrhoids called “hemorrhoids” instead of “asteroids”?
Why are they called “stands” when they�re made for sitting?
Why aren�t there ever any guilty bystanders?
Why do ballet dancers dance on their toes? Why doesn�t the company just hire taller dancers?
Why do people tell you when they are speechless?
Why do they give you a tape with a VCR to tell you how to use it?
Why do they put Braille dots on the keypad of the drive-up ATM?
Why do we need training bras? What can we teach them?

Sign on a nuclear containment building:

WARNING: Radiation area. Prefaded genes only.

An old lady noticed that she was about out of gas and pulled her car into the nearest self-service gas station. She forgot to put out the cigarette she was smoking as she began to pump her gas, so she flicked it away.

A spark landed on her hand and the gas nozzle. The old lady’s arm caught fire. In a feverish attempt to put out the fire, she waved her arm up and down.

A Police officer was nearby, saw what was happening and fired 3 shots at the woman killing her instantly. Shocked onlookers asked the officer why he shot her. The officer said, “She was waving a firearm.”

(Please don’t try this at home)August, 1998, Montevideo, UruguayPaolo Esperanza, bass-trombonist with the Simphonica Mayor de Uruguay, in a misplaced moment of inspiration decided to make his own contribution to the cannon shots fired as part of the orchestra’s performance of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture at an outdoor children’s concert. In complete seriousness he placed a large, ignited firecracker, which was equivalent in strength to a quarter stick of dynamite, into his aluminum straight mute and then stuck the mute into the bell of his quite new Yamaha in-line double-valve bass trombone.Later, from his hospital bed he explained to a reporter through bandages on his mouth, ”I thought that the bell of my trombone would shield me from the explosion and instead, would focus the energy of the blast outward’s and away from me, propelling the mute high above the orchestra, like a rocket.”However, Paolo was not up on his propulsion physics nor qualified to use high-powered artillery and in his haste to get the horn up before the firecracker went off, he failed to raise the bell of the horn high enough so as to give the mute enough arc to clear the orchestra.What actually happened should serve as a lesson to us all during those delirious moments of divine inspiration. First, because he failed to sufficiently elevate the bell of his horn, the blast propelled the mute between rows of players in the woodwind and viola sections of the orchestra, missing the players and straight into the stomach of the conductor, driving him off the podium and directly into the front row of the audience.Fortunately, the audience were sitting in folding chairs and thus they were protected from serious injury, for the chairs collapsed under them passing the energy of the impact of the flying conductor backwards into row of people sitting behind them, who in turn were driven back into the people in the row behind and so on, like a row of dominos. The sound of collapsing wooden chairs and grunts of people falling on their behinds increased logarithmically, adding to the overall sound of brass cannons and brass playing as constitutes the closing measures of the Overture.Meanwhile, all of this unplanned choreography not withstanding, back on stage Paolo’s Waterloo was still unfolding. According to Paolo, ”Just as the I heard the sound of the blast, time seemed to stand still. Everything moved in slow motion. Just before I felt searing pain to my mouth, I could swear I heard a voice with a Austrian accent say ”Fur every akshon zer iz un eekvul un opposeet reakshon!”Well, this should come as no surprise, for Paolo had set himself up for a textbook demonstration of this fundamental law of physics. Having failed to plug the lead pipe of his trombone, he allowed the energy of the blast to send a super-heated jet of gas backwards through the mouth pipe of the trombone which exited the mouthpiece burning his lips and face.The pyrotechnic ballet wasn’t over yet. The force of the blast was so great it split the bell of his shiny Yamaha right down the middle, turning it inside out while at the same time propelling Paolo backwards off the riser. And for the grand finale, as Paolo fell backwards he lost his grip on the slide of the trombone allowing the pressure of the hot gases coursing through the horn to propel the trombone’s slide like a double golden spear into the head of the 3rd clarinetist, knocking him unconscious.The moral of the story? Beware the next time you hear someone in the trombone section yell out: ”Hey, everyone, watch this!”

A young woman went to her doctor complaining of pain. “Where are you hurting?” the doctor asked. “All over,” the woman said. “What do you mean, all over? Be more specific.” The woman touched her right knee with her index finger and yelled, “ow, that hurts. ” Then she touched her left cheek and again yelled, “Ouch! That hurts, too. ” Then she touched her right earlobe, “Ow, even THAT hurts,” she cried. The doctor observed her thoughtfully and said, “You have a broken finger.”

Q:What Did The Little Girl Try To Do to The Little Fish?

A: Drowned It Lol

There was a guy walking down the street and he bumped into an old
buddy, Steve. Mark (the first guy) and Steve get talking and Mark asks Steve
what he’s been up to.
“I’m going to university,” says Steve.
“Oh, really. What are you taking?” asks Mark.
“Philosophy,” he says.
“What kind of philosophy?”
“Logic, actually,” says Steve.
“What’s logic?” asks Mark.
“Well, it’s kind of like this — have you got a fishbowl, Mark?”
“Yeah, I do as a matter of fact.”
“Well, if you’ve got a fish bowl, you probably like fish, don’t you.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“And if you like fish, chances are you probably like animals, right?”
“Yeah, I love animals.”
“Well, if you love animals, I’d say there was a probability that you
like people as well.”
“Yeah, I do. I like people.”
“And if you like people, I’ll bet you like women.”
“That’s for sure!”
“And, Mark, if you like women I’d be willing to bet that you like sex.”
“Geez, Steve, I love sex.”
“Well that’s the way it works, Mark — that’s logic.”
“Wow, that’s great,” says Mark.
At the end of their conversation, Steve had to run and Mark continued
on his way down Richmond Street, only to bump into another friend, Paul.
They get talking and Mark tells Paul he ran into Steve only minutes
earlier.
“Oh, really. What’s he up to these days?” asks Paul.
“He’s at university,” says Mark.
“What’s he taking?” asks Paul.
“Logic,” says Mark.
“What’s logic?” asks Paul.
“Well, let me see — it’s sort of like this, Paul: Have you got a fish
bowl?”
“No, I haven’t, Mark.”
“What are you, some kind of fag?” says Mark indignantly.

A guy is walking along the beach and he stumbles on a Genie Bottle.
He rubs it and out pop two Genies. He makes three wishes. When he gets home, he hears a knock on the door and outside there are 20 beautiful naked women. Walking back inside he sees a briefcase sitting on his coffee table. Opening it he see $20 million dollars.

“Wow, my first two wishes have come true!” he yells.

He gets ready to do his thing with the women when he hears another knock on the door. When he opens the door there are two Ku Klux Klan guys.

First, they beat the him up, then they tar and feather him. Next, they take him out back and lynch him. When the KKK guys are sure he is dead, they take their hoods off to reveal the two Genies!

The first Genie turns to the second and says, “You know, I can understand his first two wishes but why would he want to be hung like a black man?”

Insurance Form Statements…

Coming home I drove into the wrong house and collided with a tree I don’t have.

The other car collided with mine without giving warning of its intention.

I thought my window was down, but I found it was up when I put my head through it.

I collided with a stationary truck coming the other way.

A truck backed through my windshield into my wife’s face.

The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve a number of times before I hit him.

I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law and headed over the embankment.

In an attempt to kill a fly I drove into a telephone pole.

I had been shopping for plants all day and was on my way home. As I reached an intersection a hedge sprang up, obscuring my vision and I did not see the other car.

I had been driving for forty years when I fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident.

I was on the way to the doctor with rear end trouble when my universal joint gave way causing me to have an accident.

As I approached an intersection a sign suddenly appeared in a place where no stop sign had ever appeared before. I was unable to stop in time to avoid the accident.

To avoid hitting the bumper of the car in front I struck a pedestrian.

My car was legally parked as it backed into another vehicle.

An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car and vanished.

I was sure the old fellow would never make it to the other side of the road when I struck him.

I saw a slow moving, sad faced old gentleman as he bounced off the roof of my car.

The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.

I was thrown from my car as it left the road. I was later found in a ditch by some stray cows.

The telephone pole was approaching. I was attempting to swerve out of the way when I struck the front end.

The pedestrian had no idea which way to run as I ran over him.

A pheasant was standing in a field chatting to a bull. ‘I would love to be able to get to the top of yonder tree’, sighed the pheasant, ‘but I haven’t got the energy’.’Well, why don’t you nibble on some of my droppings?’ replied the bull. ‘They’re packed with nutrients’.The pheasant pecked at a lump of dung and found that it actually gave him enough strength to reach the first branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. And so on.Finally, after a fortnight, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree. Whereupon he was spotted by a farmer who dashed into the farmhouse, emerged with a shotgun, and shot the pheasant right out of the tree.The Moral of the Story: Bullshit might get you to the top, but it won’t keep you there.

Three men escape from prison. The first tells the others that the security will soon be looking for them.

So, he suggests that each one of them climb a tree, and when the guards come, to make animal sounds and hopefully they will move on. All agree, and they all climb into different trees and try to hide.

A while later, security guards arrive and began searching. They thought they saw something in the first man’s tree, so they shine their flashlight into the branches and say “Anyone UP there?” “Tweet, Tweet” comes from the tree, so one of the guards says “Oh, it’s only a bird!, move on.” The guards then look into another tree and says “Anyone UP there?” and the second man replies

“Whhoo, Whhoo”. “Ah! It’s only an owl!, lets go!” The guards proceed to look at the next tree, and ask “I wonder if one of the prisoners are up there?”

Shining the flashlight, they listened intently…

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

A friend of mine in Florida is getting married in June, and it seems like he’s already getting a bit nervous about it.The anxious bride-groom sent out announcements in February, carefully addressing all of the announcements by hand. Within a few days, he was surprised to see them all show up in *his* mailbox.It seems the poor nervous guy had addressed every invitation with his own address… and put the recipient’s name and address where the return address should go.