Trump Will CRUSH Crooked Hillary Clinton

November 4, 2016 | 109 Comments »

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  1. @ honeybee:
    A reporter is visiting a prison (I’ve also heard this as a convention of stand-up comedians). Every so often, somebody calls out a number and everybody laughs.
    “What’s going on?,” he asks.
    “Well, everybody’s heard the same jokes so many times, they’ve just assigned them numbers.
    “Can I try?”
    “Sure.”
    “52.”
    Silence.
    “What happened, how ‘come nobody laughed?”
    “You didn’t tell it right.”

  2. @ honeybee:
    Come to think of it, all the silly people who still want to vote for Hillary, as the most qualified candidate. (to say she’s qualified at all, is pretty funny right there, if you think about it in a gallows-humor sort of way, something like saying Al Capone is qualified), reminda me of the following viola joke:

    A violist is walking home and one of his colleagues from the orchestra stops him.
    “OH MY GOD, Something terrible has happened, Don’t go home!”
    “What do you mean?”
    “you know our conductor, the music director?
    “Yeah?”
    “He was just at your house. He raped your wife; He murdered your dog; And he burned your house to the ground!!!”
    The violist stepped back, silent for a moment, overcome with emotion.
    Finally he got out the words,
    “The Maestro came to MY house!”

  3. Sebastien Zorn Said:

    A group of college-age buddies struggle with their imminent passage into adulthood in 1959 Baltimore.

    Texas boy do not have that problem. At 18 your out, married ,single you work.

  4. @ honeybee:I once got a laugh out of a Greek coffee shop owner* with an accent as thick as peanut butter, ‘xcuse me ‘buttah, when I said, “from the perspective of somebody like myself who has lived all his life in Manhattan and never goes anywhere, there are only two accents: Mid-Atlantic (which is New York, Chicago, and British Canada) and foreign.”

    *hilariously with the advent of Starbucks which in turn as been by super-seded by the (largely Korean) Italian-style barrista business they are now called, once again diners.

    They were called diners in the ’50s and early ’60s and then coffee shops. Coffee shops used to be places where you could hang out all day over an inexpensive copy of coffee (I mean like a quarter) and greet your friends. Then they imposed time limits and minimums and the prices went up. Starbucks filled the vacuum. They did away with the minimums and time limits, largely, but you still feel them in the air and you don’t wanna stay.

    There was a nostalgic movie that paid tribute (in the coffee shop era) to the time when coffee shops were called diners. Back in the day, there were two kinds of coffee: Coffee and Sanka.**

    Diner (1982)
    R | 1h 50min | Comedy, Drama | 21 May 1982 (USA)
    Diner Poster
    A group of college-age buddies struggle with their imminent passage into adulthood in 1959 Baltimore.
    Director: Barry Levinson
    Writer: Barry Levinson
    Stars: Steve Guttenberg, Mickey Rourke, Kevin Bacon | See full cast & crew »

    From $2.99 (SD) on Amazon Video
    http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083833/
    —-
    Reminds me of the Polish joke about the newly wealthy Polish millionaire, after or shortly before the fall of Communism (‘xcuse me, “soccialism”) who wanted to accomodate every one of potential guests possible swimming needs in constructing his new mansion. So, he built three pools: One with cold water (for people who like to swim in cold water), one with warm water f(or people who like to swim in warm water) and one with no water (for people who don’t like to swim.)
    The orchestra musicians’ equivalent of the Polish joke is the viola joke. All the viola joke web pages are maintained by violists.

    I think the key in deciding whether ethnic humor is offensive is not about pride but about determining whether it is hostile or affectionate.

    During the Andrew Dyce Clay controversy, Henny Youngman — who had a super-stardom 50 year career making fun of his wife to whom he was happiily married and was in the audience lapping it up: “My wife asked me to take her someplace she’d never been before so I showed her the kitchen.” and (as though providing an example of something, not quite sure what type of word play this is since it rests on the dual meaning of the word, “take” but I don’t think it’s a pun) “take my wife. Please!” — wrote a terrific article about what constitutes acceptable ethnic humor. He defined it as humor that brings people together. He gave as an example a mixed Jewish and American Indian (I can’t bring myself to save “Native” American, my ancestors may have been immigrants but what am I chopped liver?). They wanted to name their child something that would please both sets of parents by relating to both heritages. So they named their child, “Whitefish.”

    Right after 9/11, I saw an interview on tv in which two famous stand-up comedians, I forget who, were commiserating with each other at the difficulty in coming up with routines that wouldn’t offend. It was like walking on eggs. I thought of one at the time that they could have used.
    “Everywhere you go, people are afraid. They’re afraid to go out, to travel, ride on planes, buses, highways, they’re afraid to go movies and theaters, ballgames and concerts. It’s almost like a national phobia!
    You know, I used to have a phobia.
    “Used to?,” I hear you query, “What happened?”
    “Well, I gave it up. It scared me!”

    It was long after Mayor Bloomberg was out of office that I read about how he changed everybody’s mood by deliberately sitting unprotected in public places like that. It brought back our confidence. Maybe too much!
    Maybe that’s why, Lincoln Center was rebuilt as all open and transparent plexiglass or something.

    As opposed to the main building of City College of New York, say, which was built to look like a concrete bunker during the ’60s in the face of all the riots and takeovers and radical left-wing terrorism.

    Why we even elected a pro-Muslim Brotherhood President with a Muslim and radical socialist background. Hmmm. Maybe it’s good to have a little fear.
    When I was little, I accidentally burned myself on a stove, I was walking past, and the oil jumped out of the pan, and burned my hand — I was less than half the height of the stove. Whenever the grownups wanted me to stay away from something they would say, “hot! hot!”

    Thinking of voting for Hillary tomorrow?

    my response: “HOT!” “HOT!”

  5. Sebastien Zorn Said:

    They’re naming even stadiums after people and now companies that give money. If somebody named, “Phil” gives money to the Hall will the put the original name back

    FINNALY YOUR FUNNY !!!!!!!!!