Chattanooga Choo Choo Jokes After the Insurrection | The Archbishop | Around the Campfire | Australia | The Basketball Player | The Birthday Surprise | The Boxer | The Burning River | George H.W. Bush | The Casanova | Cat on a Roof | The Chinese Restaurant | The Cow Uprising | The Dress | Fish Story | The Graduate Student | The Health Food Producer | The Irish Wedding | Luke Skywalker | The Nut Festival | Oh Suzanna! | The Parrot | The Priest's New Clothes | The Psychiatrist | Ramses' Sheep | Ricky Martin | The Rocket Launcher | Roy Rogers | Russian History | Russian Literature | Santa Claus | The School Band | The Scottish Rebellion | The Sick Dog | Star Trek | Wine Country
After the Insurrection The Archbishop Jump to Main Menu
Around the Campfire Jump to Main Menu
Australia Jump to Main Menu
The Basketball Player Jump to Main Menu
The Birthday Surprise Jump to Main Menu
The Boxer Jump to Main Menu
The Burning River Jump to Main Menu
George H. W. Bush Jump to Main Menu
The Casanova Jump to Main Menu
Cat on a Roof Jump to Main Menu
The Chinese Restaurant Jump to Main Menu
The Cow Uprising Jump to Main Menu
The Dress Jump to Main Menu
Fish Story Jump to Main Menu
The Psychiatrist Jump to Main Menu
The Graduate Student Jump to Main Menu
The Health Food Producer Jump to Main Menu The Irish Wedding Jump to Main Menu Luke Skywalker Jump to Main Menu
The Nut Festival Jump to Main Menu
Oh Suzanna! Jump to Main Menu
The Parrot Jump to Main Menu
The Priest's New Clothes Jump to Main Menu
Ramses' Sheep Jump to Main Menu
Ricky Martin Jump to Main Menu
The Rocket Launcher Jump to Main Menu
Roy Rogers Jump to Main Menu
Russian History Jump to Main Menu
Russian Literature Jump to Main Menu
Santa Claus Jump to Main Menu
The School Band The Sottish Rebellion Jump to Main Menu
The Sick Dog Jump to Main Menu
Star Trek Jump to Main Menu
Wine Country
Early in the hunt, Jim Bowie was attacked by a wildcat who ambushed him from behind a tree and, among other things, ripped, clawed, and gnawed the rattleskin boots to pieces. Deeply offended, Jim vowed revenge, and asked Davie Crocket to help him locate the ferocious feline for the final kill.
As they made their way through the thick forest, Davey Crocket spotted a wildcat in a tree. As a devoted conservationist, he did not want unnecessary death or environmental destruction. To make sure that this particular wildcat was the target of the hunt, he called to his friend, "Pardon me, Bowie. Is that the cat that chewed your new shoe?"
Many of the people from his neighborhood were amazed at how he went from town gossip to internationally revered moral leader. When his next-door neighbor learned that little Dez had become an Archbishop, he was astounded.
One day while sitting in a tavern with the TV on, he saw an image of the great man doing benevolent things. To make sure that the man on TV and his old neighborhood antagonist were one and the same, he turned to his childhood girlfriend on the next barstool, and asked, "Pardon me, Joy. Is that the catty Tutu you knew?"
Inevitably, the consequences of their menu choice caught up with them, and their storytelling became accompanied by a cheeky soundtrack. After one noisome air biscuit emanated from his son, the father became concerned that it might signal something more substantial than had been expelled to that point. To make sure that the emission had been ephemeral rather than corporeal, he inquired, "Pardon me, boy. Was that just flatulence, or poo poo?"
One night they dined in a bistro famed for its unique preparation of native animalia. The family members each decided on different versions of the evening's special marsupial fare, with the father ordering a dish served in a unique blueberry sauce. Several bottles of wine later, the young waiter approached the table with several plates of food that, on the surface, appeared identical. Unable to determine which order was his, the man inquired, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the kangaroo au bleu jus?"
For the championship game one year, the rowing team from a nearby prep school was invited as the guest of honor. They turned out to be less-than-gracious guests, however. Afflicted with affluenza, throughout the game they jeered, hissed, and shouted opprobrious insults to the teams, belying their good breeding and preppy appearance.
Finally, the future Famer got fed up with their negativity, charged toward them, and routed them from the building. Later, a reporter arrived to investigate this remarkable rejection. Unsure if the team's star had been the one who chased the offending visitors from the gym, he inquired of a teammate, "Pardon me, boy. Is Shaq the brat who shooed the boo crew?""
At one of his infamous private parties held for a friend's birthday, he arranged for ladies of the evening to entertain his guests. His guest of honor, who also had a reputation for clean living that belied his amorous passions, was presented with a pair of ladies for his night's adventure. His pleasure was too great to conceal, and he asked a companion who had provided him with such an abundance of delight. The man replied, "Tarts' on Tebow. The cat just knew you'd like to do two."
His manager thought he was out of his mind when he declared that he had decided on his destiny: to become the finest chef in all of South Africa. He began working on a secret recipe for a wildebeest dish of a soupy nature, and entered a local cooking competition to premier his creation.
The day of the event, the manager strolled through the kitchen where contestants prepared their dishes. Spying a pot that appeared to contain wildebeest meat, but not sure if it belonged to his fighter, he asked a young man in the aisle, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the mad palooka's gnu stew?"
The investigation found that among the main polluters was runoff from the elephant enclosure at the city's menagerie. The scientists were able to identify scats floating in the river that they believed might be the offending effluence. To make sure, one of them inquired of a boy in a hazmat suit canoeing down the river, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the
Cuyahoga zoo spew?"
It seems that just moments before, a story had broken reporting crucial information concerning then-VP Bush's role in the arms-for-hostages deal, a revelation that could have scandelous implications for his presidency.
His son, George W., felt the need to intercede. Tugging on his father's sleeve and cautioning him that "gotcha" questions might be forthcoming, he said, "Poppy, be coy. Iraq has shat some true deep doo-doo."
One decidedly rakish fellow was not deterred, however. He had seduced many of the women in the community, and decided to rise to the challenge. He romanced her endlessly, finally earning her affections and companionship.
Many were shocked by this development. They were aware of his reputation but amazed that he could penetrate her cold exterior. His conquest achieved legendary status, long after he'd dumped her for yet another young nudie. His rejection caused her to leave the colony altogether in grief and shame, returning to the vices of the outside world.
Years later, a man joined the colony and was taught the tribal lore. He learned of the casanova's status, and heard that he still resided in the colony. He went out to see if he could find this legendary character amidst the naked bodies surrounding him.
He soon happened upon an old, withered, and bearded fellow strolling with a much younger woman of stunning beauty. Thinking that this might be the notorious Lothario, he inquired of a nearby youth, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the cad that wooed the nude prude?"
At about the same time, the Goldberg house had undergone a renovation that included a new chimney. Father Saul was most proud of this feature, and showed it off to all who dropped by.
One day, Saul's gentile brother-in-law Leroy was visiting, and of course was treated to lengthy visit with the chimney. Suddenly, Moshe came running in with the news that the kitten had climbed onto the roof and couldn't get down.
Leroy stayed out while Saul ran in for tools and accessories. When he got to the living room, he saw the kitten coming down the chimney and into the fireplace. To relieve his relative of concern, he called out the door, "Pardon me, goy. Itzhak the cat came through the new flue."
She began to pet her favorite creature, stroking his heavy fur with her dainty hands. Unbeknownst to her, behind her back, the beast began to gnaw on her new dress, ultimately tearing it right down the seam, upon which it fell to the ground, leaving her in a partial state of exposure.
She ran into the house crying, telling her mother what had happened and inconsolable about the damage done to her garment. Her mother got the family shotgun out of the lockbox and headed out to take care of the wretched creature. She did not want to put the wrong animal to rest however. Seeing her Greek farmhand and believing he had witnessed the event, she called to him, "Pardon me, Troy. Is that the yak who hewed the tutu?"
One group of sailors left the coast of Texas and navigated toward the waters where they believed the great beast might reside. The waters parted and up leaped a mighty sea-creature who, to the ear of one sailor, appeared to call out a greeting. Hoping for such a sighting, he turned to his fellow seafarer and said, "Pardner, Ahoy! Is that the chatty tuna yoo-hoo?"
The man related his life story, explaining how he had begun to doubt his own sanity over his ambivalent feelings toward his mother. The great doctor listened intently, probing for details and taking copious notes.
At the conclusion of the session, The psychiatrist began a long analysis of the man's condition, beginning with, "It zeems zat you've been viping ze kiester mit der left to right ztrokes" and elaborating the man's psychic condition as grounded in his anal and phallic regions.
The man soon became impatient, hoping for a more direct, less wordy explanation. Finally interrupting the analyst in midsentence in hopes of getting a precise understanding of his state of madness, he said, "Pardon me, Freud. Am I a tad, or mucho cuckoo?"
The hearing went as expected: The aspiring academician was grilled, sizzled, skewered, rotisseried, broiled, and broasted by all in attendance, including a custodian who had stopped by to empty the trash. Finally, the committee turned its attention to the dreaded numbers that the candidate was basing his theories upon.
One particular section, the most crucial part of the research, seemed confusing. The committee could not see how he was drawing his conclusions, based on the information in the tables. The young scholar looked vexed, certain that he had included every statistical possibility in the appendixes of his thesis. If his tests were not located, his whole project might go all for naught.
Suddenly, one of his professors came across a table that had gone overlooked up to that point. Sensing that this might be the elusive set of figures upon which the candidate was basing his conclusions, he said, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the data you allude to?"
He developed a bean curd dish heavily spiced with cayenne and ginger, and packaged it in a jaunty style consistent with his image. He supervised production personally, and when the product was ready for market, he summoned food critics for a preliminary taste test.
To shield the dish from being observed prior to its unveiling, he stationed a young sentry outside the room where it was being stored. The guard was approached by a reporter from High Fiber Digest who slyly inquired why he was standing outside this particular door.
The guard looked about, saw that nobody was observing, and replied, "Guardin' the soy. This vat's the phat tofu the dude brewed."
The day of the great event, people came from all over the island to attend the nuptials. Following custom, the groom's and bride's families were assigned seats on different sides of the church's aisles. A relative from New Orleans arrived with little knowledge of the seating arrangements, and saw that there was a long seating line for one side but not the other. To make sure that he was seated properly, he pointed to the line and inquired of the young fellow ushering the event, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the yat's, or pooka's pew queue?"
Word of this cheeky display quickly spread, and tongues began wagging. The precise identity of the offended official was unclear, however. R2D2 and C-3PO were ambulating down a hallway when C-3PO spied a stranger with what appeared to be a shocked expression on his face. Thinking that this might be the one with a close encounter of the lurid kind, he inquired of his companion, "Pardon me, droid. Is that the chap that Luke was lewd to?"
One year, Monsieur Nu, of the House of Nu, decided to sponsor a nut-eating festival to introduce to the global nut economy a new legume he had developed as a cash crop. He spread word, and a great horde descended upon his estate to partake in the revelry.
One knight errant caught wind of this event and turned his steed toward what he believed to be Monsiour Nu's fiefdom. As he neared what he thought was the right destination, he espied a throng in the distance. Hoping that this might be the Nu estate, but not wanting to attend the wrong event, he inquired of a passing youth, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the Chateau Nu cashew chew?"
Her angry compatriots wanted revenge, and a scouting party went out looking for her killer. They came across a small band, but were uncertain which of the individuals might have been the one responsible for their friend's death. To clarify, they inquired of a passing youth who had witnessed the event, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the chatty Sioux who slew Sue?"
The product arrived, and the parrot applied it with anticipation, working it in and leaving the product in his crest for well beyond the recommended time period. Hours later, after rinsing, his hair not only had a blazing color, it had a new puffiness that seemed disproportionate to his breed's natural look. A neighbor dropped by and was startled by the appearance of the avian's head. Having heard about the new cleansing regimen, but uncertain if it might be the cause of the crest's shocking new look, he deftly pretended to inquire discretely about the weather, while in fact asking, "Pardon the ploy. Is that the cockatoo's shampoo 'do?"
Later that day, one of his companions from his diocese saw a man in a brightly colored costume strolling along the beach. Thinking it might be his fellow Californian, but barely recognizing him in such outstanding garb, he inquired of the lad next to him, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the chaplain's fuschia muumuu?"
One year, just after the sheep was slaughtered, the annual search for its successor began. Candidates were brought in from throughout Egypt for inspection before the right one was identified. Since she would soon be sequestered, a crowd gathered for a glimpse before the fattening began.
A man and his son, both known to have a rebellious streak, stealthily crept about the grounds where they thought she might be kept in hopes of getting a glimpse. The father spotted a lamb he thought might be the next year's sacrifice. Tugging on his son's toga, he said, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the Pharoah's new taboo ewe?"
During one concert, Ricky forgot the lyrics to a song. Instead of singing the words, he made up sounds that followed the original melody line. This technique became so popular that he began building it into future performances.
During one show he launched into a wordless singing exhibition that went so fast that bewildered fans lost track of what song they were hearing. To clarify, a woman in the audience turned to her son and asked, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the scat Menudo zoomed through?"
After their training, the unit was ready to demonstrate their prowess to the top military brass. The officers emptied their prisons and placed the inmates strategically around a sparsely populated town to simulate the enemy and serve as targets. The unit was disguised as merchants whose rocket lauchers were hidden beneath their robes.
The military brass watched with interest. They had deliberately remained oblivious to the specific fighting methods of the unit so they could view the proceedings without knowing how the events would unfold. They stationed themselves atop the town's tallest building for the best vantage point of the forthcoming slaughter.
Suddenly the air was rent by a bellicose belch by one of the soldiers below. Startled by this eructation, and wondering if this might be the signal to commence firing, the commanding general turned to his aide and inquired, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the Chad bazooka crew cue?"
Roy had never been spurned before by his beloved bovines, and was mystified by their hasty retreat. He summoned Dale, and asked her if she would ride over the hill and see if she could figure out what had caused their flight.
Dale rode to the top of the rise and spotted a herd. Yet, with their ranch being so large, and the herds so copious, she could not be certain if she had found the right one. To clarify, she called over to her husband, "Pardon me, Roy. Are those the cattle who eschewed you?"
This relationship resulted in questions about the judgment of the royal family, leading a cabal in the royal court to plot the assassination of the purported holy man. Yet he learned of their plan, and armed himself with a set of pistols, which he hid throughout his robes.
The afternoon of the ambush came, and the holy man was ready. He tossed a pistol to each of several young attendants, and together they fought off the assassins.
Later, one of the ambushers saw a gun in the runny-sack of a young man. Suspecting that he might have been among the defenders of the mystic monk, he said, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the gat Rasputin threw you?"
Over time, the book publishers became accustomed to his endless complaints and the difficulty of negotiating with him. Upon the retirement of one of his longstanding editors, a new editor became involved in the discussions surrounding his forthcoming novel.
The meeting began, and the great novelist launched into one of his familiar litanies of troubles: an ink shortage, a paper shortage, marital woes, taxes, and much more. After an hour, the new editor had a look of frustration on his face. Attentive to his expression of bewilderment over the author's endless whining, a more experienced representative of the publisher cupped his hand and whispered into his ear, "Pardon Tolstoy. It's just his prattle you'll get used to."
The MBA Elves, as they became known, recommended an update to the traditional gift concepts that they felt were getting a bit tired. To capitalize on Santa's northerly residence and perhaps promote development for exclusive gated communities to be built such that their own properties would increase in value, they had R&D develop a miniature replica of the domicile favored by residents of the frigid Northern regions of the earth. The construction medium, "Crystaloid," was a substance produced from compacted snow, one that was guaranteed by its M.I.T.-trained elf to retain its shape and constitution.
When the first batch of products was finished and boxed, a reviewer from Good Housekeeping magazine came up to grant its prestigious seal of approval. She was escorted proudly by an M.B.A. Elf, whose smug look of satisfaction turned to alarm when she picked up a packaged snow-home and found the box wet. She opened it up and to behold the rounded remnant of ice melting away. Turning to her host, and mistaking his diminutive stature for that of a child, she inquired, "Pardon me, boy. Is that a Santa booboo igloo?"
The director decided to use familiar songs so that everyone could compete at the same time with the same material. The first song up was Yankee Doodle Dandy. As the students followed along, one instrument in particular stood out for its off-key rendition.
The director stopped the performance, and scanned the group to see if he could identify the source of the atonal hum. Thinking he'd spied the offender, but not certain, he inquired, "Pardon me, boy. Is that the flat kazoo that you blew?"
All went well until the dog developed a terrible illness, one that resulted in his expelling phlegm and other effluvia from his nose. They finally found a vet who specialized in designer dogs, and took him in for an inspection. The vet found more than one icky substance emerging from the critter's nostrils, however, and was not sure which might be symptomatic of a recognizable disease. To clarify, he pointed to one gob and asked, "Pardon me, Loy. Is that the Labradoodle flu goo?"
One day, just before a scene, the catering crew distributed the candies to the ravenous rodentia. They eagerly dug in, all but one who began squealing with anger. The director could find no reason for this outburst until he saw that there was one candy missing from the little rascal's box. Mr. Spock came over and tried to explain the illogic of the tantrum, not realizing that the root of all thinking is in the passions. Wanting to placate the furball after Mr. Spock's failed intervention, the director said to the little fellow, "Pardon Nimoy. Is that one chocolate nougat too few?"
As a special feature, the ring was advertised as fireproof. Unfortunately, the flame retardent was asbestos, causing the product to be pulled from store shelves. The company folded, and during the bankruptcy proceedings, the wine merchant learned that his business associates had conned him into providing the vast majority of the financing.
Ruined, he took to life in the streets, a fall from grace that caught media attention. His name began to surface in social media as an example of how to lose it all.
Some years later, a bilingual reporter from a Montreal periodical was assigned to do a story on him. As she walked down the streets of San Francisco, she saw a pathetic figure huddled in a doorway drinking wine from a bottle in a brown paper bag. She thought it might be her interview subject, but wasn't sure. To make certain, she cried, "Chardonnay Roi! Is that the Napa hula hoop dupe?"