The Bottom of the Barrel jokes used below have been with permission from the author Ralph Milton.

Previous Page N ext Page

Bottom of the Barrel 21

If you think those were bad, this is just as worse. It's from Nancy McClure-Long of High Falls, NY

The man was feeling very sick, but he had lost his faith in conventional medicine. So he called in a new-age faith healer. Who made house calls.
After a brief examination, the faith healer took out a long, thin strip of elk rawhide and gave it to the man, telling him to bite off, chew, and swallow one inch of the leather every day. After a month, the faith healer returned to see how the guy was feeling.            

The man just shrugged and said, "The thong is ended, but the malady lingers on."

I know. It's awful! Indefensible! Bad even! Don't shoot me. I'm just the messenger. Blame it on Nancy.

Bottom of the Barrel 22

A slightly more pungent version of this story came from Karen Allard, Cochrane, Ontario.
            Four Catholic ladies are having coffee together, discussing their important children.
            "My son is a priest," says the first lady. "When he walks into a room, everyone calls him 'Father.'
            "Well, my son is a bishop," chirps the second lady. "Whenever he walks into a room, people say, 'Your Grace'."
            "Well, not to put you down, but my son is a cardinal," says the third lady barely hiding her superiority. "Whenever he walks into a room, people say Your Eminence'.'
            The three turn to the fourth lady. She sits quietly for a long minute and then says, "Well, my son is a gorgeous, 6'2,' hard-bodied, male stripper. Whenever he walks into a room, all the women say, 'Oh My God!'"

Bottom of the Barrel 23

This from Carol Wagner.
Annabelle was an excellent preacher. And a fine pastor. But she quit the ministry after 20 years and became a funeral director.
"Why did you do that?" her friends asked.
"Listen!" she said. "I spent three years trying to straighten out John. John fell off the wagon. I spent 6 months trying to straighten out Susan and Don's marriage. They've just filed for divorce. I spent 2 1/2 years trying to straighten out Bob's drug problem and he's still an addict.
"Now I'm a funeral director, when I straighten 'em out - they stay straight!"

Bottom of the Barrel 24

This from Laura Baum:
As with many funerals, it was a cloudy, rainy day. The deceased was a little old lady who had devoted her entire married life to fussing and griping at her poor husband.
When the graveside service had no more than terminated, there was a tremendous burst of thunder accompanied by a distant lightning bolt and more rumbling thunder.
The little old man looked at the pastor and calmly said, "Well, she's arrived!"

Bottom of the Barrel 25

This is really the bottom and you can blame it on Margaret Anderson.
A couple lived near the ocean and used to walk the beach a lot. One summer they noticed a girl who was at the beach pretty much every day. She wasn't unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing; she would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around furtively, then speak to them.
            Generally the people would respond negatively and she would wander off, but occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money and something she carried in her bag.
            The couple assumed she was selling drugs, and debated calling the cops, but since they didn't know for sure they just continued to watch her.
            After a couple of weeks the wife said, "Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices? Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she's really doing."
            Well, the plan went off without a hitch and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man walked up the beach and met his wife at the road. "Well, is she selling drugs?" she asked excitedly.
            "No, she's not," he said.
            "Well, what is it, then?  What does she do?"
            The man grinned. "Her name is Sally, and she's a battery salesperson."
"Batteries?" cried the wife.
            "Yes," he replied. "She sells C cells by the seashore."