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Sartini stalked into a police station and told the desk sergeant he wanted to swear out a complaint against a truck driver for assault and battery.

"What happened?" asked the bored cop.
"I was in a phone booth, and this creep came along and wanted to use the phone," explained Sartini. "I told him to wait a while, but he could not. Finally, he slammed open the door and yanked me out of there."

"No wonder you got mad," agreed the sergeant.
"Damned right, I got mad," said the Italian. "The son-of-a-bitch did not even give my girlfriend time to put her panties on."
Not wanting to go home empty-handed, Hamish is about to throw the fish into his bag, when it opens its tiny mouth and says, "Stop! I am Dagon, the God of the Cod. And if you save my life, I will grant you three wishes."

Hamish is amazed and can't believe his luck. He is about to give his first wish when Dagon says, "Stop! Remember, I am a very compassionate god, and whatever you wish for, your worst enemy will get double."

"Okay," says Hamish. "My first wish is for one million dollars."
"Granted," replies the God of the cod. "But Paddy Murphy gets two million."

"Okay," says Hamish. "My second wish is for a hundred beautiful women to look after me."
"Granted," says Dagon. "But Paddy gets two hundred."

"Okay," says Hamish. "And for my third wish, I would like you to painlessly remove one of my balls!"
Father Murphy, Reverend Philpot and Rabbi Nussbaum are playing cards together and gambling in the back room of the pub. All of a sudden a policeman comes in and they are arrested.

In court the magistrate asks Father Murphy, "You are accused of gambling. What do you have to say?"
The old priest looks up to heaven, winks and prays silently, "Oh, God! Just one little white lie! I'll never do it again. Okay?"

He then announces to the magistrate, "Not guilty."
"Okay," says the magistrate, "you can go. And what about you, Reverend? What do you have to say?"

The clergyman looks piously to heaven and then bows his head in prayer, "Oh, God! Just one little white lie! I will never do it again," and then says out loud, "Not guilty."

"Very well," says the magistrate, "you can go. Rabbi Nussbaum is next. You are accused of gambling," says the magistrate. "What do you have to say?"

"Gambling?" asks the rabbi. "With whom?"
Moishe Finklestein goes into the Ritzy Glitz Restaurant and treats himself to a huge meal with lots of champagne, finishing up with a Havana cigar.

Finally the waiter brings the bill on a silver tray. It comes to ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents, so Moishe pays him with a hundred-dollar bill.

About five minutes later, he calls the waiter back and asks for his change. Without altering his expression, the waiter leaves and returns a moment later with the silver tray. On it is a penny and a packet of condoms.

Moishe is shocked, and demands an explanation. The waiter lifts his nose in the air, and says, "Sir, it is the policy of our restaurant to encourage customers like you not to reproduce!"
Paddy gets sentenced to thirty days in jail for being drunk and disorderly. When Judge Rumcake has finished pronouncing the sentence, Paddy asks if he can say something.
"Why, of course!" says the judge.

"If I called you a son-of-a-bitch," suggests Paddy, "what would you do?"
"What?" says Rumcake, "I would hold you in contempt of court and give you an extra week in jail."

"I see," says Paddy. "And if I thought you were a son-of-a-bitch, what would you do?"
"In that case," replies Judge Rumcake, "I'd do nothing, because there's no law against thinking."

"Oh! Well in that case," concludes Paddy, "I think you are a son-of-a-bitch!"
General Jackass, now retired, is walking down the street one day when he sees Donald Dixteen. Donald used to serve as the general's valet during the last war.

General Jackass is very happy to see Donald, and shaking hands, tells Donald that he is looking for someone to take the job as his personal butler.

"You'll have exactly the same duties you had with me in the army," smiles the general. "You can begin by waking me up tomorrow morning at eight o'clock."

Donald takes the job, and the following morning, he rushes into the general's bedroom and shakes him until he wakes up.
Then he slaps the general's wife on the ass, and shouts, "Okay, baby! Here's your twenty dollars, it's time to go home!"
Farmer Meadow-Muffin has a barn which catches fire and burns down in the middle of the night. The next day, the insurance man, George Grabbit, comes to inspect the damage.

"It is the company policy," explains Grabbit, "to build a replacement barn of the same size and with the same materials, instead of paying you cash for the damage."

"Well, if that's the way your company does business," snorts the farmer, "you can cancel the insurance on my wife!"
Katie the cannibal wanders out of the jungle and into town. She does a little shopping and then stops at the cannibal butcher's store.
"How much are brains today?" asks Katie.
"Well," replies Butch, the cannibal butcher, pointing to his display shelf, "the missionaries' brains are ten dollars a pound, the nuns' brains are twenty dollars, and the politicians' brains are two hundred dollars."
"Two Hundred Dollars?" screams Katie. "That's impossible! How can they be so expensive?"
"Well," explains Butch, looking quite hurt, "have you any idea how many politicians we have to catch to find one with a brain?
It is Thanksgiving weekend, the big national holiday in America, and at the Sons of Columbus annual picnic, Grandpa Risotto gets up and makes an announcement.

"And-a now," he says, "for the winner of the grand-a prize! This beautiful apple pie baked by Mrs. Alucchi!"

Grandad Piesta is sitting at the back of the picnic a little drunk, and shouts out, "Fuck Mrs. Alucchi!"
"Ah!" says Grandpa Risotto. "That's-a second prize!"

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