2500 Jokes to Start 'Em Laughing Read Online Free

Dinner will be served at seven as the orchestra plays “It’s Delicious, It’s Delightful, It’s Deductible!”
    OPENING FOR A BANQUET: It’s a pleasure to see you all here tonight—the big shots, the little shots, and those who have just come in from the cocktail hour—the half-shot!
BASEBALL
    Spring is the time of year when you can always tell a real baseball fan. He has the TV set overhauled, orders six hundred cans of beer, forty pounds of potato chips, three hundred TV dinners, and leaves a call for October.
    I really don’t know much about baseball. To me, an exhibition game is nine fellas coming out wearing raincoats.
    I go out to the ball park maybe two or three dozen times a year. I’m not too thrilled with baseball but I’m crazy about undercooked hot dogs!
    Between peanuts, popcorn, Cracker Jacks, and hot dogs, what the seventh inning stretches is you!
    I gotta tell you. Yesterday I got a phone call from my Aunt Sophie. She was in a police station. I said, “What happened?” She said, “I’ll tell you what happened! I was at Shea Stadium, something dropped into the field seats, and they wouldn’t let me keep it!” I said, “A baseball?” She said, “A catcher!”
    October is when 50 million marriages are threatened by the eternal triangle—a wife, a husband, and the World Series.
    If you’re a baseball fan, October is when you discover your wife left you in May.
    My wife doesn’t like baseball. She can never understand why a pitcher who gets $100,000 a year needs relief.
    I know a left fielder who’s very upset. He was sold for $80,000—by his wife.
    I was watching a game yesterday.
    The pitcher was warming up in the bullpen. I know he was warming up—he was reading
Playboy.
    As the nude ballplayer said to the coach, “Center fielder? I thought you said centerfolder!”
    [ NAME OF BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE DOGHOUSE ] is doing such a fantastic job, yesterday the fans got together and gave him something—a ten-yard head start.
    I’ll say one thing for the [ LOSING TEAM ]. I didn’t think anything could be in the cellar this long and not be an oil heater.
    I feel a little sorry for the [ LOSING TEAM ]. They finished so far back, they came in fourth in another League—the Little.
    You know who should have the world’s greatest baseball team? Mexico! You drink the water down there and you better reach home!
    A real fan is someone who thinks there’s something wrong with his TV set—because every time he turns it on, the [ CELLAR TEAM ] lose.
    The San Diego Padres are enough to make you give up one or the other—baseball or religion.
    I don’t know what’s happening to this world.
    I just saw a bubble gum card that folds out.
    I was walking downtown when a girl stopped me who must have been a major league umpire. She kept saying, “Play? Ball?”
BASKETBALL
    My daughter isn’t very athletic, so you can understand why I’m a little upset about her last letter. She said she made the basketball team.
    If you have to go in for a sport, forget golf—take up basketball. You don’t get wet on rainy days; there’s no walking; and the holes are the right size!
    A basketball coach just came up with a terrific idea to get eight-foot players—seven-foot girls!
    Everything is relative. To Toulouse-Lautrec, Napoleon was a basketball player!
BATHING SUITS
    You know what bothers me at the beach? Those girls who lie face down in the sand and then unhook the top of their bathing suits. It’s enough to give you the peeps!
    Have you seen the latest? There’s a nude-look bathing suit that’s so realistic, it comes with stretch marks.
    I won’t say what bathing suits like this do to a normal, red-blooded American boy—but I was looking at one when a terrible thing happened. Somebody stepped on my tongue!
    Did you hear about the girl who was a