Some Chevy jokes

Q. How do you make a Chevy accelerate 0-60 mph in less than 15 seconds?
A. Push it off a cliff.

Q. What is found on the last two pages of every Chevy’s owners manual?
A. The bus schedule.

Q. What did the auto parts counterman say when the customer said, “I’ll take a set of wiper blades for my Chevy”?
A. Sounds like a fair trade.

Q. What do you call a Chevy at the top of a hill?
A. A miracle?

Q. What do you call a Chevy with brakes?
A. Customized.

Q. How do you make a Chevy go faster down hill?
A. Turn the engine off.

Q. Why don’t Chevy’s sustain much damage in front end collisions?
A. The*tow truck*takes most of the impact.

(As you probably can gather, you can use those for any make you wish) 🙂

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Ten reasons to leave your truck in primer

10. You can wash it with Comet.

9. You don’t have to buy one of those cover for trucks.

8. You can buy primer at the grocery store and paint your truck in the parking lot.

7. You can park your truck anywhere without worrying about getting door dings.

6. You can stand on the roof and get a good look at what’s going on around you.

5. You don’t have to worry as much about it getting stolen.

4. You don’t have to spend sleepless nights trying to decide what color to paint it.

3. If you forget lawn chairs, you can sit on the fenders.

2. You don’t have to do the bodywork until you’re good and ready.

1. You can use a pencil to do your pinstriping, lettering or graphics. If you need to remember a phone number, you can write it on the fender.

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The Baby Photographer

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, “Well, I’m off now. The man should be here soon.”

Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer from raleigh wedding photographers happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.

“Good morning, Ma’am”, he said, “I’ve come to…”

“Oh, no need to explain,” Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Have you really?” said the photographer. “Well, that’s good. Did you know babies are my specialty?”

“Well that’s what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat ”

After a moment she asked, blushing, “Well, where do we start?”

“Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there.”

“Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn’t work out for Harry and me!”

“Well, Ma’am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time. But if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results.”

“My, that’s a lot!” gasped Mrs. Smith.

“Ma’am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I’d love to be in and out in five minutes, but I’m sure you’d be disappointed with that.”

“Don’t I know it,” said Mrs. Smith quietly.

The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. “This was done on the top of a bus,” he said.

“Oh my God!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.

“And these twins turned out exceptionally well – when you consider her mother was so difficult to work with.”

“She was difficult?” asked Mrs. Smith.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look.”

“Four and five deep?” said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.

“Yes”, the photographer replied. “And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling – I could hardly concentrate, and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in.”

Mrs. Smith leaned forward. “Do you mean they actually chewed on your, um… equipment?”

“It’s true, Ma’am, yes. Well, if you’re ready, I’ll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away.”

“Tripod?”

“Oh yes, Ma’am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It’s much too heavy to be held in the hand very long.”

With that, Mrs. Smith fainted.

After the gig

Guitarist finishes gig and is the last one in the place with the guitar case and the barman plonks down a big glass of the juice and a little bowl of peanuts to go with it, then wanders off to wipe down the counter. This leaves the gun guitarist all by himself for a minute. From nowhere a little voice says ‘great gig man, you’re one hot picker’.

The player looks at the barman and says ‘thanks’ and the barman says ‘what for’ and the player says ‘for sayin’ nice things about my work’. the barman says ‘ I didn’t say nothing’.

The guitarist thinks it’s late and he’s a bit spaced so he’d better head off when another little voice says ‘yeah great licks man and nice moves too, you sure cut it up there’. The guitar player turns around and says ‘thanks’ but there’s nobody there. The feller at the bar says ‘are you ok?’ cause the picker looks a bit pale and the guitarist says ‘yeah, I think so’.

Then, as he empties his glass another voice says ‘hot licks, great look, wonderful style man, the chicks sure got off on you’ and the bloke says ‘OK! THAT’S IT! WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?’

The barman runs down and says ‘what’s your problem dude?’ to which the guitarist says ‘WHERE ARE THOSE VOICES COMING FROM? IS THIS CANDID CAMERA?’

‘What voices? What are they saying?’ when the guitarist tells the barman what was going on and what was said, the barman says ‘oh that’ll be the peanuts man, they’re complementary!’

The world’s longest joke

OK, you folks at Guiness, listen up, because I am going to describe to you the World’s Lengthiest Joke. It is one where the punch line can be anywhere from a quarter-hour to several weeks later than the build-up. That must surely qualify it for mention in the Book of World Records. Please spell my name right when listing it.

I have told this joke several times at dinner parties. It has always worked. You can tell it, too. Of course you may find yourself invited to fewer and fewer dinners. But a good joke is always worth that risk. Here’s how it goes.

Finding a lull in the conversation, you remark  that at a recent gathering you heard a story told that others found hilarious, but that seemed pointless to you. You’d like to retell it, to see if the present company gets the point. Thus begins the build-up:

“One day a Certified Public Accountant decided to build a house for himself, entirely out of brick. Being a typical CPA, he sat down with the finished plans and very carefully calculated exactly how many bricks it would take. He then ordered exactly that many bricks and carefully counted them when they arrived. All through the construction he watched the workmen to see that no bricks were wasted or omitted. When the house was completed, however, there was one brick left over. Perplexed, he rechecked his figures. Everything tallied. With increasing frustration, he checked again and again. Finally, in a fit of fury, he threw the extra brick up in the air. It disappeared.”

At this point the company usually falls into an expectant silence. “That’s all?” someone asks. “That’s all,” you say. They all agree that it is not a particularly funny story, and talk drifts off into other channels.

You now bide your time. Anywhere from five minutes to several weeks will do, although it is usually best to finish your work the same evening. At another lull in the conversation, you launch a new story. This time it is a free adaptation of an incident in one of Dostoevsky’s novels:

“It is the nineteenth century and a train is rumbling through the night, across the frozen Siberian waste. In a first-class compartment the sole occupants are a large, untidy gentleman, and an aristocratic lady holding a small lap dog. They regard each other with disdain and do not speak. Presently the large man pulls out one of those tatuaje cigars and lights it, with many puffs of blue smoke. The lap dog starts coughing. The lady is incensed, as it is forbidden to smoke in a first-class compartment. But she will not stoop to reprove the fat commoner. Instead, with a burst of energy, she pulls down the window, seizes the cigar, and throws it out into the snow. The man is at first stunned. But suddenly he realizes that it is equally forbidden to carry animals in a first-class compartment. With a furious movement, he scoops up the unfortunate dog and flings it out the window.

Tableau. At last the lady rises from her petrification and pulls the emergency cord. Bells ring and the train shudders to a halt. Officials and passengers step down into the snow. It is a bright, moonlit night. The dog has survived — far down the frozen track one can see it running toward the train. And in its mouth it is carrying an object. Can you guess what that object is?”

Assuming you’ve told your story well, and enough alcohol has been consumed at the table, someone will surely rise to the bait. “It’s the cigar!”

“No,” you reply, not skipping a beat, “it’s the Certified Public Accountant’s extra brick.” Then you head for the door.

At the barbers

Tony Blair and David Cameron somehow ended up at the same barber shop.

As they sat there, each being worked on by a different barber, not a word was spoken.

The barbers were both afraid to start a conversation, for fear it would turn to politics.

As the barbers finished their shaves, the one who had Blair in his chair reached for the aftershave.

Blair was quick to stop him jokingly saying, “No thanks, my wife, Cherie, will smell that and think I’ve been in a brothel.”

The second barber turned to Cameron and said, “How about you, Mr. Cameron?”

Cameron replied, “Go ahead; my wife doesn’t know what the inside of a brothel smells like”.

Car envy

A guy driving a Yugo pulls up at a stoplight next to a Rolls-Royce.

The driver of the Yugo rolls down his window and shouts to the driver of the Rolls, “Hey, buddy, that’s a nice car. You got a phone in your Rolls? I’ve got one in my Yugo!” The driver of Rolls looks over and says simply, “Yes I have a phone.” The driver of the Yugo says, “Cool! Hey, you got a fridge in there, too? I’ve got a fridge in the back seat of my Yugo!” The driver of the Rolls, looking annoyed, says, “Yes, I have a refrigerator.” The driver of the Yugo says, “That’s great, man! Hey, you got a TV in there, too? You know, I got a TV in the back seat of my Yugo!” The driver of the Rolls, looking very annoyed by now, says, “Of course I have a television and some great shock absorbers. A Rolls-Royce is the finest luxury car in the world!” The driver of the Yugo says, “Very cool car! Hey, you got a bed in there, too? I got a bed in the back of my Yugo!” Upset that he did not have a bed, the driver of the Rolls-Royce sped away, and went straight to the dealer, where he promptly ordered that a bed be installed in the back of the Rolls.

The next morning, the driver of the Rolls picked up the car, and the bed looked superb, with satin sheets and brass trim. It was clearly a bed fit for a Rolls Royce. So the driver of the Rolls begins searching for the Yugo, and he drove all day. Finally, late at night, he finds the Yugo parked, with all the windows fogged up from the inside. The driver of the Rolls got out and knocked on the Yugo. When there wasn’t any answer, he knocked and knocked, and eventually the owner stuck his head out, soaking wet. “I now have a bed in the back of my Rolls-Royce,” the driver of the Rolls stated arrogantly. The driver of the Yugo looked at him and said, “You got me out of the shower to tell me THIS?!”

It’s all for the kids …

A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with five young mothers and their small children.

“You all have obsessions,” he observed.

To the first mother, Mary, he said: “You are obsessed with eating. You’ve even named your daughter Candy.”

He turned to the second Mum, Ann: “Your obsession is with money. It manifests itself in your children’s names, Penny, Goldie and Frank.”

He turned to the third Mum, Joyce: “Your obsession is alcohol. This too shows itself in your children’s names: Brandy and Sherry. You even called the cat, “Whisky”.

He then turned to the fourth Mum June: “Your obsession is with flowers. Your girls are called Rose, Daisy & Poppy.”

At this point, the fifth mother, Kathy, quietly got up, took her little boy by the hand and whispered:

“Come on, Dick, this guy has no idea what he’s talking about. Let’s pick up Fanny and Willy and go home.”

If cars were computers

At a recent computer exposition, Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated: “If General Motors had kept up with the technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon.”

In response to Bill’s comments, GM issued a press release stating: “If General Motors had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics:

  1. For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash twice a day.
  2. Every time they repainted the lines in the road, you would have to buy a new car.
  3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason. You would have to pull over to the side of the road, close all of the windows, shut off the car, restart it, find where you installed ESET NOD32 Antivirus, and reopen the windows before you could continue. For some reason, you would simply accept this.
  4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.
  5. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive — but would run on only five percent of the roads.
  6. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would all be replaced by a single “General Protection Fault” warning light.
  7. The airbag system would ask “Are you sure?” before deploying.
  8. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.
  9. Every time GM introduced a new car, car buyers would have to learn to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.
  10. You’d have to press the “Start” button to turn the engine off.

Guitar Jokes

Q: How many guitar players does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: 5 – one to hold it in place and 4 to drink beer until the room spins

Q. What do you call a bass player who just broke up with his girlfriend?
A. Homeless.

Q. What does it mean when a guitar player drools out of both sides of his mouth?
A. The stage is level.

Q: What is perfect pitch?
A: When guitar doesn’t hit the side of the dumpster.

Q: What do you call two guitarists playing in unison?
A: Counterpoint.

Q: How do you get a guitar player to play softer?
A: Give him a sheet of music.

Q: How many guitarists does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Twenty. One to change the bulb and nineteen to say, “Not bad, but I could’ve done better”.

Q: What does a guitarist say when he gets to his gig?
A: Would you like fries with that?

Q: How do you get 2 electric guitar players to play in perfect unison ?
A: Shoot one of them.

Q: Did you hear about the heavy metal player who locked his keys in the car together with his best es 335?
A: He had to break the window to let the drummer out!