Dash Jokes / Recent Jokes

The setting is a quiet and serene country stream weaving through the gentle hills of a grassy plain. All is quiet and still, and, lo, a small fly hovers a few inches above the quiet waters of the stream.

Beneath the water floats a small fish. The fish thinks to itself, if that fly just drops two inches, I will be able to jump out of the water and catch it.

Now, standing on the bank of the stream lurks a bear. The bear looks at the scene and thinks to itself, if that fly drops just two inches, then the fish will jump out of the water to catch it, and I will be able to dash into the stream and snap up the fish in my mouth.

Crouching nearby the stream, in the tall grass, waits a hunter. The hunter looks at the scene and thinks to himself, if that fly drops just two inches, then the fish will spring out of the water to catch it, then bear will dash out into the river, and I'll get a clear shot at the bear.

Sitting at the entrance to its hole, is more...

The setting is a quiet and serene country stream weaving through the gentle hills of a grassy plain. All is quiet and still, and, lo, a small fly hovers a few inches above the quiet waters of the stream. Beneath the water floats a small fish. The fish thinks to itself, if that fly just drops two inches, I will be able to jump out of the water and catch it. Now, standing on the bank of the stream lurks a bear. The bear looks at the scene and thinks to itself, if that fly drops just two inches, then the fish will jump out of the water to catch it, and I will be able to dash into the stream and snap up the fish in my mouth. Crouching nearby the stream, in the tall grass, waits a hunter. The hunter looks at the scene and thinks to himself, if that fly drops just two inches, then the fish will spring out of the water to catch it, then bear will dash out into the river, and I'll get a clear shot at the bear. Sitting at the entrance to its hole, is a small field mouse. Looking at the scene, more...

'Twas The Night Before Impeachment, when all through the House,
All the Congress was stirring, even Conyers, the louse.
The Articles were hung by the Capitol with care,
In hopes that Saint Bubba would be trapped in the lair.
The Republicans were nestled, all smug with The Feds,
While visions of perjury danced in their heads.
And Barr with his rhetoric and Hyde with his trap,
Had just settled in for a long evening's nap.
When out in The Gulf, there arose such a clatter
They clicked on CNN to see what was the matter.
When what to their wondering eyes should appear
But Tomahawk cruise missiles flying like reindeer.
With a Presidential address, so lively and quick,
They knew in a moment, it must be Saint Slick!
More rapid than eagles, his supporters they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now Conyers, now Gephardt, let's forget about The Vixen!
On Barney! On Maxine! I'm no more...

'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps
had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
a more...

Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her my girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on more...

' Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there. While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash tore open the icebox then threw up the sash. The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow sent thoughts of a binge to my body below. When what to my wandering eyes should appear: a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick. The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox. From the top of the scales to the top of the hall now more...

1. Uh, yeah... I invented Spaghetti-O's.
2. You're twice as sweet as a creme brulee -- and less drippy.
3. Y'know, this hat and apron would look a lot less silly at the foot of your bed.
4. Hey good lookin', whatcha got reducing over a low flame until the sauce is a creamy, then pouring the reduction over the already sauteed veal, adding in a dash of kirsch and flambeing just before presentation?
5. Your eyes are like limpid pools of chicken stock.
6. Whisk, schmisk. I'll show you how a *real* man fluffs butter.
7. I know we've just met, but will you marinade me?
8. Wanna lick my beater?
9. How do you like your eggs? Poached, scrambled, or fertilized?
10. Hey, weren't you in my' Introduction to Melons' class?
11. I've made thousands of women cream... of tarragon soup!
12. Get the buttah.
13. One cheeseburger coming up. Would you like a little paradise with that?
14. Mmmm, you look good enough to filet -- but I think I'd more...