JACK-ANORY FOR A FUNNY STORY - Joke Thread & Comedy Club

Sorry beat you to that this morning. Still no takers.

 

Granny DeVito

 

A man boarded an airplane and took his seat. As he settled in, he glanced up and saw the most beautiful woman boarding the plane. He soon realized She was heading straight towards his seat. As fate would have it, she took the seat right beside his:
Eager to strike up a conversation he blurted out. "Business trip or pleasure?"
She turned, smiled and said. "Business. I’m going to the Annual Nymphomaniacs of America Convention in Boston."
He swallowed hard. Here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen Sitting next to him and she was going to a meeting of nymphomaniacs!
Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked. “What’s your Business at this convention?"
“Lecturer." She responded. "I use information that I have learned from my Personal experiences to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."
“Really?” He said. “And what kind of myths are there?”
“Well.” She explained. “One popular myth is that African-American men are The most well-endowed of all men, when in fact it is the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is That Frenchmen are the best lovers, when actually it is men of Mexican Descent who are the best. I have also discovered that the lover with Absolutely the best stamina is the Southern Redneck."
Suddenly the woman became a little uncomfortable and blushed.. "I’m Sorry." She said, “I shouldn't really be discussing all of this with you. I don’t even know your name."
"Tonto." The man said. "Tonto Gonzales, but my friends call me Bubba.

 

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed.
The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.
Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job. The bishop was incredulous.
"You have no arms!" "No matter," said the man.
"Observe!"
And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.
But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell again, the arm less man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.
The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.
As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked,
"Bishop, who was this man?"
"I don't know his name," the Bishop sadly replied,
"but his face rings a bell."
WAIT! WAIT! There's more . . .
The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the arm less campanologist, the Bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.
The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the
brother of the poor arm less wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty." The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the arm less man's brother stooped to pick up a heavy mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest,
twirled around, and died of a heart attack on the spot.
Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.
"What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked
breathlessly.
"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, but..."
(WAIT FOR IT . . . . . . . It's worth it). . .
"He's a dead ringer for his brother."