NFR Humor (No political jokes)

Non-fishing related
I will now state..... If any of my humor is offensive, in any way, I apologize for that. But let it be known that I have had to strain my memory for jokes that are "family friendly"......My "forte" is an audience around a campfire that is impervious to being offended....... Oh, and to Ron McNeal... I hope I gave you a smile.
 
Young kid: " Mom, I think I'm adopted!"
Mom: "Of course you're not, Why would you say that?"
Young kid: " I did an DNA test and the results say that I'm no match for any relatives"
Mom on phone with Dad: " Robert, Christian took a DNA test and there results show he isn't our son."
Dad: "Well, Obviously..."
Mom: " what do you mean?"
Dad: "Well it was you're idea, remember that first night in the hospital when all the Baby did was scream and cry and you asked me to change him."
Mom: "yeah,"
Dad: " Well I think I picked a good one. I'm proud of Christian."
 
Jim in Anacortes said:
I will now state..... If any of my humor is offensive, in any way, I apologize for that. But let it be known that I have had to strain my memory for jokes that are "family friendly"......My "forte" is an audience around a campfire that is impervious to being offended....... Oh, and to Ron McNeal... I hope I gave you a smile.
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Offensive? Hell no. I thought it was one, close to the truth, and two, funny.
 
Ron McNeal said:
This one hurts. (Hit the big 8-O last July.........)
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My favorite fly fishing joke:
8-0 year old guy (see what I did there?) goes in for a checkup. Doctor tells him "You're in outstanding physical shape for a man your age, to what do you attribute your good health to?"
Man replies"I'm a fly fisher, I'm up at the crack of dawn, hiking up and down the river, taking in all that fresh air...
Doctor says "I'm sure that has something to do with it but I think there's more. How old was your father when he died?"
Man: Who says he's dead? He's 100 years old and fit as a fiddle, and a fly fisher too. As a matter of fact, he was out there with me this morning.
Doctor: That's all very good but I still think there's more. Tell me, how old was his father when he died?
Man: Who said he's dead? He's 119 and still gets around without a cane or a walker.
Doctor is starting to get a little miffed at the guy's attitude and sarcastically spouts "And I suppose you're going to tell me he was out fishing with you today as well?
Man: No, he couldn't come today, he's getting married this evening.
At this, the doctor explodes, "MARRIED? MARRIED? Why would a hundred and nineteen year old man want to get married?
And the man winks and says "Who says he wanted to?"
 
Gee, since the pink salmon fishery has been so good I though I would share it with my Ballard neighbors, Sven and Ole. Called then and they both agreed since had been so long since they had been out. Loaded up the boat, and picked them up early, but had to wait at Fred Meyer for awhile as they both needed fishing licenses. And they had heard they needed pink buzz bombs, though I said I had nice pink flies... Then we had to stop and fuel up, get some picketed herring and crispbread.
Now all in order we launched the boat and spend a good day on the water. But it was slow and only Ole caught one fish. As the day was getting on, I suggested we pack it up. Ole wanted to keep fishing and get some more fish. But the bite was really off.
As we packed it up I mentioned the cost of the day for fuel, licenses, food, and gear. For that one pink salmon, it came out to about $100 a pound!
Ole still wanted to fish more, but Sven agreed it was time to leave and was chuckling. I asked him what so funny, and he said at that cost per pound we were lucky to only get one.
 
Natasha Leggero's response to a question about whether cats had anxiety issues:

"You would too if you had to live with a girl who cries all the time."
 
something from Franz Kafka's joke book...

A horse walks into a bar. The bartender asks, “Why the long face?”
“I was born into servitude, and when I die, my feet will be turned into glue,” replied the horse.
The bartender realized he would not be getting a tip.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
“I don’t know,” Gregor told the faceless interrogator for the fiftieth time.
“We can’t help you if you won’t work with us. Perhaps another day in the machine will convince you to cooperate.”

If the system has no place for you, and you’re forced to live on its fringes teetering between poverty and anarchy… you may be a redneck.
 
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