QUESTION: What do you look for when you're tracking a shoo-be-doo-be?
ANSWER: Shoo-be-doo-be-doo.

QUESTION: Name two words that have no meaning.
ANSWER: Supercalifragilisticexpialodocious and detente.

QUESTION: What does a masseuse do to your dub-dub?
ANSWER: Rub-a-dub-dub.

QUESTION: What do you get on your fon if you leave it out all night?
ANSWER: Fondue.

QUESTION: What do you call a military coup led by General Kitchy Kitchy?
ANSWER: Kitchy-kitchy-koo.

QUESTION: How long does a United States Congressman serve?
ANSWER: Until he gets caught.

QUESTION: What is the total of Bo Derek and Phyllis Diller?
ANSWER: Eleven

QUESTION: On a cold morning what forms on your david?
ANSWER: David Frost.

QUESTION: What do you see if you open the trunk of the Godfather's car?
ANSWER: Head and shoulders.

QUESTION: What do you call an outhouse built on quicksand?
ANSWER: Trapper John

QUESTION: Who ruined that darn rug?
ANSWER: That darn cat.

QUESTION: What do you get when something gets caught in your Zippo?
ANSWER: Zippo Marx.

QUESTION: What's the smart thing to do if a Dallas Cowgirl touches you?
ANSWER: Touchback.

QUESTION: Name the loser in the last presidential race.
ANSWER: The American people.

QUESTION: What happens to liars when they die?
ANSWER: They lie still.



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Mark Twain at a dinner at the Authors' Club said: "Speaking of fresh eggs, I am reminded of the town of Squash. In my early lecturing days I went to Squash to lecture in Temperance Hall, arriving in the afternoon. The town seemed very poorly billed. I thought I'd find out if the people knew anything at all about what was in store for them. So I turned in at the general store. 'Good afternoon, friend,' I said to the general storekeeper. 'Any entertainment here tonight to help a stranger while away his evening?'

The general storekeeper, who was sorting mackerels, straightened up, wiped his briny hands on his apron, and said: 'I expect there's goin' to be a lecture. I've been sellin' eggs all day."
An American friend of famous Edmond Rostand says that the great dramatist once told him of a curious encounter he had had with a local magistrate in a town not far from his own. It appears that Rostand had been asked to register the birth of a friend's newly arrived son.

The clerk at the registry office was an officious little chap, bent on carrying out the letter of the law. The following dialogue ensued:
"Your name, sir?"
"Edmond Rostand."
"Man of letters, and member of the French Academy."
"Very well, sir. You must sign your name. Can you write? If not, you may make a cross."
The blonde called in panic for her young son. Then she searched the ground floor, the first story, the second, and the attic—all in panic.

Finally, she climbed to the trap door in the roof, pushed it open, and cried: "Henry, are you out there?"

An answer came clearly: "No, mother. Have you looked in the basement?"