Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Five of my all-time favorite jokes:
By: Joe P. Attanasio

I have a handful of jokes that I seem to remember and enjoy telling on occasion and I wanted to share them here.


The finals of the National Poetry Contest last year came down to two finalists. One was a University of Alabama Law School graduate from an upper crust family; well-bred, well-connected, and all that goes with it. The other finalist was a redneck from Auburn University in Alabama.

The rules of the contest required each finalist to compose a four line poem in one minute or less, and the poem had to contain the word "Timbuktu."

The Duke graduate went first. About thirty seconds after the clock started he jumped up and recited the following poem:

"Slowly across the desert sand
Trekked the dusty caravan.
Men on camels, two by two

The audience went wild!

How they wondered could the redneck top that?

The clock started again and the redneck sat in silent thought. Finally, in the last few seconds, he jumped up and recited:

"Tim and me, a-huntin' went.
Met three whores in a pop-up tent.
They was three, we was two,
So I bucked one and Timbuktu."


Somewhere in the farm country in the central Unites States, a new young priest was assigned his first parish.

Shortly after arriving he received a letter from the old priest at the next parish over, inviting him to dinner.

He arrived at the old priest’s house for dinner and knocked on the door. When the door opened his jaw dropped and his eye grew wide. A most beautiful curvy blonde lady in her 30’s greeted him with a nice warm smile. Behind her was the old priest. As her entered the old priest took him aside and assured him that she was merely his housekeeper and no funny business was going on.

After dinner the young priest thanked him for having him over and told the old priest that he enjoyed the company and dinner very much.

A few days later the housekeeper told the old priest that ever since dinner that night, she could not find the silver gravy ladle that was on the table. The old priest looked for it, and not being able to find it wrote the young priest a letter.

The old priest wrote: I enjoyed having you over, but I have a concern. I am not saying you stole it, but since you came for dinner I have not been able to find my silver gray ladle.

A few days later, the old priest received a letter from the young priest saying:

I am not saying you are sleeping with your house keeper, but IF you would have slept in YOUR OWN bed you would have found it!!


I have to tell a story about this joke. I was 10 years old and I walked into the kitchen at some holiday time and there were about 5 adults, including my dad. Someone was telling a joke and was just getting done. All I heard was Pastor Fuzz and they people all roared with laughter. I asked what was so funny and was not told.

 I never forgot those two words. A few weeks later when I was alone with my dad in our garage I asked him about the joke. He could not remember. I still never forgot those two words, thinking that someday I would hear the joke.

 Last year some 50 years later something reminded me of those two words. With the internet being available I tried “Pastor Fuzz joke”, and there it was, 50 years later and many hits. It seems the joke was popular in England as well only in England they used the name Pastor Fluff.

                                                           THE JOKE:

The Reverend John Fuzz was pastor of a small congregation in a little Pennsylvania town. One day he was walking down Main Street and he happened to notice a female member of his congregation sitting in the town bar, drinking beer. 

The reverend thought this was sinful and not something a member of his congregation should do, so he walked through the open door of the bar and sat down next to the woman.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald," the reverend said sternly. "This is no place for a member of my congregation. Why don't you let me take you home?"
"Shure," she said with a slur, obviously very drunk.

When Mrs. Fitzgerald stood up from the bar, she began to weave back and forth. The reverend realized that she had had too much to drink and he grabbed hold of her arms to steady her. When he did, they both lost their balance and tumbled to the floor.

After rolling around for a few seconds, the reverend wound up lying on top of Mrs. Fitzgerald, her skirt hiked up to her waist.

The bartender looked over the bar and said, "Here, here, buddy, we won't have any of that carrying on in this bar."

The reverend looked up at the bartender and said, "But you don't understand, I'm Pastor Fuzz."

The bartender nodded and said, "Well, heck, if you're that far along you might as well finish the job."


Okay, this joke is going to be difficult to say typing, it is a speaking kind of joke BUT I will endeavor to tell it.

There were two great friends Ollie Oyster and Sam Clam,
They both died on the same day in a car accident.
Ollie Oyster, who had led a good life, was taken into heaven.
Sam Clam was not so lucky, his wild past caught up with him and he was condemned to hell.

One day Ollie Oyster with his harp under his arm approached Saint Peter at the gates of heaven.

He asked if he could get a special pass to visit his old friend in hell.
Saint Peter told Ollie Oyster he could visit hell but had to be back by midnight.

When Ollie Oyster got to hell, he asked around to find where his friend Sam Calm might be.
Finally someone told him that Sam Clam owned a wild discotheque (disco) club.

Ollie Oyster made his way to Sam Clams disco and found his old friend and was having a great visit. 
Time went by very quickly as they reminisced.

He looked at the clock 11:50 pm he barely had time to get back to heaven, he ran all the way to the gates where Saint Peter was waiting.

He stopped, looked at Saint Peter and promptly said, “wait!! I have to go back”
Saint Peter asked him why and he replied, “I left my harp in Sam Clams disco”

Ok…. Are you laughing?

Or did you at least go DUH?

Try saying the last  8 words again, listening to how it sounds.

Try singing the last 8 words!

To the tune of:

I left my heart in San Francisco, by Tony Bennett

Well, I did warn it was a vocal joke so you could exaggerate the ending.


A Mailman was getting ready to retire after 30 years on his mail route. Most of the people he delivered mail to knew that Friday would be his last day.
Friday morning he started his deliveries. 

At the first house he was given a box of candy as a retirement gift. At the second house he was given a bottle of wine.

When he went to the third house he was greeted by a shapely young blonde woman wearing a see through negligee. She took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to the bedroom. She gave him the most mind blowing sex he ever had. 

She then led him down to the kitchen where she cooked him bacon and eggs, toast and coffee. Under his coffee cup was a one dollar bill.

The mailman was full and sexually satisfied. He could not believe his luck. Still, he wondered what the one dollar bill was all about, so he asked her.

“Well,” the sexy woman replied. “I told my husband last night that we should give you something because you were retiring.  He said, ‘Fuck him! Give him a dollar!’ the breakfast was my idea.”


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