Best Preacher Jokes

The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express praise for answered prayers. Suzie Smith stood and walked to the podium. She said, “I have a praise… Two months ago, my husband, Tom, had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed. The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn’t know if they could help him.” (You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagine the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.) “Tom was unable to hold me or the children,” she went on, “and every move caused him terrible pain.” We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation, and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom’s scrotum, and wrap wire around it to hold it in place.” (Again, the men in the congregation cringed and squirm uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.) “Now,” she announced in a quivering voice, “thank the Lord, Tom is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time, his scrotum should recover completely.” (All the men sighed with unified relief.) The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say. A man slowly stood up and walked just as slowly to the podium. He said, “I’m Tom Smith.” The entire congregation held its breath. “I just want to tell my wife… the word is sternum.”

A woman is amazed by pastor who lives next door and how quickly he changes his personality. Around the neighborhood, he is incredibly shy, quiet, and timid but as soon as he begins to preach, he becomes loud, boisterous, and is able to entertain the congregation with his sermons. “I’m not sure how you go from one personality to the next,” the woman tells the pastor over coffee. “Oh, it’s simple,” the pastor explains. “That guy in church is my altar ego.”

An Alabama pastor said to his congregation, “Someone in this congregation has spread a rumor that I belong to the Ku Klux Klan. This is a horrible lie and one which a Christian community cannot tolerate. I am embarrassed and do not intend to accept this. Now, I want the party who said this to stand and ask forgiveness from God and this Christian family.” No one moved. The preacher continued, “Do you have the nerve to face me and admit this is a falsehood? Remember, you will be forgiven and in your heart you will feel glory. Now stand and confess your transgression.” Again, all was quiet. Then, slowly, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with a body that would stop a runaway train rose from the third pew. Her head was bowed and her voice quivered as she spoke, “Reverend there has been a terrible misunderstanding. I never said you were a member of the Ku Klux Klan. I simply told a couple of my friends that you were a wizard under the sheets.”

A man with no arms is homeless and looking for a job. He goes to the pastor in his local church one morning and says, “Pastor, I am in desperate need of work. Is there any kind of job you can give me, despite my obvious disability?” The pastor, with a cheeky grin, points to the churches bell tower and says, “You see that bell up in the tower? If you can ring that for me every day precisely at noon, I will pay you $20 a day. Can you do that for me?” The no armed man hesitates, but the offer of $20 a day sounds too promising, so he agrees. Later that day, he makes his way up to the bell tower but alas, cannot pull the rope for obvious reasons. Every day at noon, the man would head to the bell tower and bash his face into the solid metal for it to chime, and then the pastor would pay him. Over time, however, this method began damaging the man’s head, both inside and out. Bruises were always constant, and the pastor began noticing the man would slur his speech, look deranged and have trouble walking in a straight line. But there were no complaints, and the man, though a bit slower by the day, was still getting paid happily, so it continued. On one fateful day, however, the man once again staggers up the stairs to reach the bell tower as noon approached. He took his normal stance, ready to smash his head once again into the giant chiming machine. However, on this fateful day, he succumbs to the damage, and as he charges at the bell, he staggers so much that he completely misses the target. His momentum takes him right over the shallow wall of the tower and he plummets to the ground. He is killed instantly. A crowd of people begin to gather around the no armed man’s body, including a police officer. A woman looks at the body, horrified, and asks, “Oh my god, does anybody know who this man is?” The police officer looks at the dead man and replies, “I don’t know him, but his face rings a bell.”

LaffGaff, The Home Of Fun And Laughter!

It’s Yucky

My baby was due in three weeks.  I felt like I was going to die if I didn’t get a nap.  At three, John had given up naps.  I locked all the doors and found King Kong on TV.  I fixed him a tray of snacks and a drink.  “You are a big boy.  I’m going to take a nap while you watch King Kong. You can wake me up if you really need me but I’m so tired. Stay right here with me and try not to wake me up just talk about King Kong.”

“Okay, Mommy.  I can watch King Kong by myself.”  He answered.  I stretched out on the sofa, hoping he’d be occupied for a while.

John patted my face.  “Mommy, King Kong is scary.”

”Then turn it to cartoons.”

“But I want to see King Kong.”

”You can turn it off for a minute till the scary is over, then turn it back on.”

He turned King Kong off and on a few times.  “Mommy, I have to potty.”

”You’re a big boy.  Go by yourself..”

He was back from the bathroom in just a minute.  I

I heard King Kong go off a few more times.

He asked me several questions.  Finally, I sat up.  I saw John’s bare butt in front of the television.and a half a dozen poops smushed into the carpet.  “John!  Where are you pants?  Why didn’t you wipe your hiney?  Look at this mess!”

”I couldn’t wipe my hiney.  It had poop.  It was yucky!”

That it was.

 

Another Irish Joke

A man stumbles up to the only other patron in a bar and asks if he could buy him a drink.

“Why of course,” comes the reply.

The first man then asks: “Where are you from?” 

“I’m from Ireland,” replies the second man. 

The first man responds: “You don’t say, I’m from Ireland too! Let’s have another round to Ireland.” 
“Of Course,” replies the second man. 

Curious, the first man then asks: “Where in Ireland are you from?” 
“Dublin,” comes the reply. 
“I can’t believe it,” says the first man. 
“I’m from Dublin too! Let’s have another drink to Dublin.”
“Of course,” replies the second man. 

Curiosity again strikes and the first man asks: 
“What school did you go to?” 
“Saint Mary’s,” replies the second man. 
“I graduated in ’62.” 

“This is unbelievable!” the first man says. 
“I went to Saint Mary’s and I graduated in ’62, too!”

About that time in comes one of the regulars and sits down at the bar. 
“What’s been going on?” he asks the bartender. 
“Nothing much,” replies the bartender. “The O’Malley twins are drunk again.”

Question

“Why did you do that?” I hate it when I people ask that, especially if it’s obvious I’ve just done something infuriating. Clearly, if I’ve just messed something up, it was an accident, a fault in my thinking, or an oversite. I am rarely in the mood to explore any of those things.

“Where was it last time you saw it?” If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost. I wouldn’t be looking for it now if I could help it.

Who put this here? Bud and I are retired and live alone. Bud often asks this question. The answer is obvious. If he didn’t put it there, it had to be me.

Irish Joke

A Irishman is walking along the beach. He finds a bottle and rubs it; out comes a genie. The genie agrees to grant him three wishes.

The Irishman says, “I’ve been walking on this beach all day. I’m so thirsty. I wish I could have a mug of beer that never ends.” Poof, a frosty mug of beer appears. He drinks it down and sure enough, it fills up again.

The Irishman drinks that mug down. And it magically refills. He drinks again; it refills again. By this time he’s beginning to feel the effects, but the genie is also getting a big irritated. He’s tapping his feet, looking at his watch, etc., and finally the genie says, “I got places to be. Have you decided on your other two wishes?”

The Irishman, staggering around by this time, looks at the mug as it fills up again, thinks for a minute, and says, “Yeah, just give me two more of these.”

Louie Figures It Out

One proud day, Louie acquired a bedraggled, old gray mule. The poor beast had obviously been”rode hard and put up wet.” It was tormented by flies, particularly in spots where harness had rubbed. Nonetheless, Louie was enamored of the sad beast pastured in his brother Don’s empty cow lot adjacent to our barn. The lot had gnawed down to the last blade of grass by its previous occupants. The only amenity available to the mule was a half barrel of water. Don and Louie spent some time spraying the mule for flies, which had to be a relief. Don went about his business assuring Louie they’d get old gray some hay tomorrow. A seed was planted.

Old Gray ate all the grass he could reach through the fence. Louie spent the rest of the afternoon pulling grass and delivering it by the handful to the grateful mule. Even Boogereater and Jamie got caught up in the exercise for a while.

About dusk, Daddy came home and scattered out hay for his stock and went on his busy way. Remembering Don’s intentions, Louie opened his cow pen gate and turned Old Gray into Daddy’s feed lot to get at the hay. Delighted at the opportunity to chow down, Old Gray kicked at Daddy’s cows to get them out of his way. Daddy heard the ruckus and came hurrying back, only to find his cows scattered and Old Gray munching happily.

Daddy shouted at Louie.” Get that mule out of here. He’s gonna hurt my cows!” He handed Louie a block of hay to toll the mule out and waved a stick at Old Gray. Reluctantly, Old Gray allowed himself to be led back into Don’s cow lot. Glad to have settled that problem, Daddy secured his own gate and went about his business

Louie was not to be denied that easily. He scooped up a generous portion of Daddy’s hay and tossed it over the fence to Old Gray. The happy mule tore into it with enthusiasm. It had probably been a long time since he’d such a rich meal. Satisfied with his day’s work, Louie went home for his own supper.

The next day when Daddy went out to throw hay to his cows, he found Louie and Old Gray waiting for him. The scattered remains of yesterday’s hay lay about them on the ground. Daddy warned Louie not to let Old Gray in his pasture.

Louie waited patiently for Daddy to put out the hay before climbing over the fence. “Louie, don’t be climbing my fence. You’ll tear it up. What in the hell are you doing?”

Louie scooped up a few blocks of hay and tossed them over the fence to Old Gray. “Old Gray ain’t got no hay. You don’t care Old Gray have hay?”

Daddy knew he wasn’t going to win this round. “Oh hell no, man! That’s what I bought it for.”

Valuable Mule

Farmer Jones had a wife who was a terrible, terrible nag. Every time she would talk to him about anything she would nag him and the only way he could get away was to go do some plowing with his old mule in the field.

Needless to say Farmer Jones spent a lot of time walking up and down the fields with his old mule until one day his wife, in a fit of remorse for her nagging ways decided to surprise her husband by fixing him a nice lunch to eat while he was out plowing in the fields. 

She took the lunch out to the field, and Farmer Jones was very happy and surprised to see her and hoped that she had finally changed her nagging ways. She hadn’t been out there for ten minutes when she began nagging her poor husband again about something.

During her tirade, she dropped the picnic basket behind the mule and the mule gave her a good swift kick in the head. She fell over dead as a door nail from the mule’s strong kick.

A few days later, at the funeral parlor a couple of friends of Farmer Jones noticed that after the service both men and ladies would come up to Farmer Jones and offer their sympathy and condolences. In each case, Farmer Jones would nod his head up and down when ladies would speak, and would shake his head from side to side when a man-friend would come up to comfort him.

After the service was over, those friends of Farmer Jones went up to him and asked him why he nodded his head for the ladies but shook his head for the men.

“Well”, Farmer Jones said, “when the ladies would come up they would say something like… Isn’t that a lovely dress she is wearing? or “Doesn’t she look natural, just like she is asleep?… and I would nod my head yes in agreement. But when the men came up, they all asked me if I wanted to sell that mule”.

Setting Louie Straight

Louie lived with his mother, an ancient crone.  It must have been a hard  life for both.  From outward appearances, they seemed very poor.  Their  decrepit home cried out for paint.  Windows needed screens. Old Lady Rick often hung in the crooked doorway shrieking at Louie.  “Louie, get me some taters out o’ the tater house!  Pour a bucket of water on them tomaters!” Louie generally plodded wordlessly to do Mama’s bidding. 

Mama had another son who lived across the street, Don Ricks, the proud father of Boogereater and Jamie, the suspected cigarette thief.  Don plowed and maintained Mama’s poor garden, except for what Louie could be pushed into doing.  The Rolling Store, a converted school bus pulled in next to her house weekly so Louie could fetch the scant  groceries on her list.

Following Boogereater’s gasoline sniffing episode, Daddy was extremely critical of Mother’s handling of the situation.  If Mother had been attending her children instead of trying to sneak a nap, Connie would never have slid off the bed.  Mother should have stood up to to Mrs. Rick and not left her children to take “that kid” to the doctor.  If she’d kept the screen locked like she was supposed to, Louie would never have gotten in to scare her. I guess if she hadn’t put gas in the car, Boogereater wouldn’t have sniffed it.  The bill from the doctor put the icing on the cake. The point of this was, Daddy knew how to handle things.

Thanksgiving was a’coming.  The rooster to have the place of honor at the festivities was shut in a coop fattening.  The accomodations were nothing special but the menu was excellent.  In his neighborhood ramblings, Louie apparently noted the incarcerated rooster, stirring a memory.  Mother noted Louie headed across our yard with the squawking rooster under his arm.  Mother rushed out to rescue her bird.  “Louie, bring back my rooster!  We are fattening him for Thanksgiving!

“I ‘mon eat him.  I ‘mon eat dis rooster.” He replied complacently as he headed home with his new rooster.”

“Louie!  Bring him back!  That’s my rooster!”. This wasn’t the first time Louie got the best of her. 

She was fuming when Daddy got home.  “Louie got my rooster! I saw him cutting across the  front yard with the rooster under his arm.  I hollered at him, but he wouldn’t bring him back!”

“Well, if you’re gonna deal with him, you’re gonna have to be smarter than he is!”This was a generous paraphrase of Daddy’s response.  He’s d never heard of political correctness.  “I’ll go get your damned rooster!”. He strode confidently across the dusty road.

He found Louie out back of the house shutting the rooster in a crate, “Louie, I came to get my rooster.  Don’t be going out on my place no more.”

Louie met the challenge, totally unperturbed.  “I ‘mon eat him.”

Tolerating no nonsense, Daddy glared at him. “I’m taking my rooster.”

“I’ll get me ‘nother one.” Replied Louie steadily, knowing right was on his side.

Bested, Daddy stomped back to his own yard.  Where’s my rooster?” Mother queried.

“Let’im keep the damned thing!” Daddy spouted.  “He ain’t got enough sense to talk to!”

Flower Felons

One fine day, Mother and I ran by our favorite garden center while we were running errands, as any right-thinking person would.  I know better than to take Mother with me around flowers. She has no flower morals and always leads me into sin. I was strolling about, measuring the beauty of the flowers against the high cost of divorce, should I purchase any more this month, a miracle occurred.  One of the vendors walked up to me and asked if I liked flowers.  She cut me off before I really got started.  She lived at ——Jones Street.  She’d collected so many flowers she couldn’t take care of them.  They were all in her yard and on her porch.  Go by and get all I wanted.

“Is this a joke?  What if your neighbors see me loading flowers and call the police?”

“Oh, that’s no problem.  Just take a picture of me and show it to them if they say anything, or tell them to call me.  It will be fine.”  That sounded reasonable.  I snapped her picture making the peace sign and sped to _______Jones Street.  The neighbors were on their doorstep watching us, probably wondering why they hadn’t been offered anything.  I showed them the lady’s picture, telling them she said we could have her plants.  They looked suspicious, but didn’t yell at us.  The plants were gorgeous and the pots artistic. She’d even started a couple of nice pineapples that were nearly ripe! Why would anyone go to all that trouble only to give them away? I was in heaven. I had many of them loaded when I noticed we were on ______Patterson Street.  Hurriedly, we put the lovely plants back, explained to the incredulous neighbors, and took off.

We never did find ________Jones Street, but at least we haven’t been arrested, yet.  I’ll bet that woman in the garden center is still laughing.