Eretz IRS

At the end of the tax year the IRS sent an inspector to audit the books of a synagogue.

While checking the books he turned to the Rabbi and said, "I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?"

"Good question," noted the Rabbi. "We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles."

"Uh huh," replied the auditor, disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer. But on he went, in his government-issue arrogance: "Well, then, what about all these matzo purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?"

"Ah, yes," replied the Rabbi, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an IRS conundrum. "We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send a free box of full-size matzos."

"I'll just bet," muttered the auditor in a clumsy aside, wondering how he could get to this wise-ass, know-it-all Rabbi.

"Well then, Rabbi," he went on, "what do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform? Eh!?

"Here, too, we do not waste," answered the Rabbi. "What we do is save up all the foreskins and send them to the IRS and once a year they send us a complete dick."

.

Pimp My Cherry

A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night to meet and have dinner with her parents. Since this is such a big event, the girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out in the Plymouth, park and make love for the first time.

The boy is immediately euphoric but he has never had sex before, with another person, so he makes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms. He tells the pharmacist it's his first time & the pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. In fact, the druggist goes into a level of detail that is positively extraordinary, providing the youth with a grasp of technique and titillation previously unknown to him or, for that matter, anyone not subject to the laws of galloping satyriasis.

At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he'd like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack.

The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time. The druggist rings up the charge, gives the kid a broad wink and a thumbs up and tells him to go out there and do his duty to American Manhood.

That night, the boy shows up at the girl's parents house and meets his girlfriend at the door.

"Oh, I'm so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in!"

The boy enters and his girl escorts him immediately to the dinner table where her parents are already seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head.

A minute passes and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his head down.

Ten minutes pass and still no movement from the boy.

Finally, after twenty minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, "Jesus, I had no idea you were this religious."

The boy turns and whispers back: "I had no idea your father was a pharmacist."

.

Eight Stories

I.

When my husband and I arrived at the automobile dealership to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked inside the car. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the driver's side door. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked.

"Hey!" I exclaimed to the technician, "it's open!"

"I know," he replied. "I already got that side."

This was at the Ford dealership in Canton, Missouri.

II.

We had to have the automatic garage door repaired.

The Sears repairman told us that one of our problems was that we did not have a large enough motor.

I thought for a minute, then explained that we had the largest one Sears made, a 1/2 horsepower unit.

He shook his head in weary resignation and said, "Lady, you need a 1/4 horsepower."

I responded that 1/2 was larger than 1/4.

"'I'm afraid not, ma'am. Four is larger than two."


III.

My daughter and I rolled up to the McDonald's take-out window. Our total was $4.25.

I handed the clerk a five dollar bill and a quarter.

She said, "You gave me too much money." I said, "I know, but this way you can just give me a dollar bill back."

She sighed and went to fetch the manager who approached the window and asked me to repeat my request.

I did so and he handed me back the quarter, saying "We're sorry but we do not do that kind of thing here." The clerk then handed me $1.75 in change.

IV.

I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee inquired, "Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?' To which I replied, "If it was without my knowledge, how would I know?'

He smiled knowingly and nodded: "That's why we ask."

V.

The stoplight on the corner buzzes when it's safe to cross the street. I was crossing with a coworker. She asked if I knew what the buzzer was for. I explained that it is a signal for blind people to indicate when the light is red. Appalled, she responded, "What are blind people doing driving automobiles?!'

She was a senior probation officer in Wichita , Kansas.

VI.

The company held a good-bye luncheon for an old and dear coworker who was leaving the company due to 'downsizing.'

Our manager rose to speak with the requisite upbeat countenance.

"Y'know, this is fun! We should do this more often!"

This was at Texas Instruments.


VII.

I work with an individual who plugged her power strip into itself. She carefully examined the wiring. She could not understand why she could not turn on her computer.

She was a deputy with the Dallas County Sheriff's office.

VIII.

It was the first day of school in Kansas City, Missouri. Getting to know her students, the kindergarten teacher inquired how to pronounce a little girl's name.

"Le-a?"

"No."

"Leah?"

"No."

"Lee-Ah?"

"No."

"Lay-a?"

"No."

"Lay-eee?"

"No."

The teacher contacted the child's mother to clear this up so as to avert any problem with socialization associated with the little girl's name.

The mother was irate. She could not understand why the school couldn't get a simple matter like the child's name right.

"It's pronounced 'LeDASHha!'" she angrily informed the teacher.

"Ledasha?" inquired the teacher.

"Yes, goddammit! Ledasha! The dash don't be silent!"

,

Some Enchanted Evening

Having already downed a few power drinks, she turned around, faced him, looked him straight in the eye and before he could get a word out, said, "Listen up, you smooth-talking sonofabitch. I screw anybody, any time, anywhere, your place, my place, in the car, front door, back door, on the ground, standing up, sitting down, naked or with clothes on, dirty, clean.... It doesn't matter to me. I've been doing it ever since I got out of college and I just love it."

Eyes now wide with interest, he responded: "No kidding. I'm a lawyer too. What firm are you with?"

.

The Srevitz Clinic™

JOCOP News Service, January 21, 2010, Riyadh.

The American Dental Association shook the American mental health community this morning with its announcement that previously unreleased double blind/placebo-based clinical trials now reveal the most under-diagnosed disease in the continental US, including Guam, is Repat Remorse.

The famed Srevitz Clinic™ of Minneapolis, MN immediately released its patented 13-step programme to the victims, their families and new colleagues in the workplace, free of charge, until April 15, 2009.

1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2. Page yourself over the office intercom. Do not disguise your voice.

3. Every time someone asks you to do something, inquire: “Would you like fries with that?”

4. Put decaf in the coffee maker daily for three weeks. After the three weeks are up, put double espresso in the coffee maker.

5. In the memo field of all your cheques, write: “For Ludes.”

6. Skip down the hall instead of walking.

7. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat with no change in expression.

8. Specify that your drive-through order is “To Go.”

9. Sing along with the heavy metal soundtracks to documentaries.

10. Five days in advance, inform your new neighbours you will not be able to attend their child's birthday party. You have a headache.

11. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream: “'I Won! I Won!'

12. Pick up a box of condoms at the pharmacy, go to the counter and ask the clerk where the fitting room is.

13. Tell your children over dinner, “Due to the economy, we're going to have to let one of you go.”

El Sprintero

A woman is having a daytime affair while her husband is killing himself at work.

One wet and lusty day she is in bed with her boyfriend when, to her horror, she hears her husband's car pull into the driveway.

"Oh my God--Hurry! Grab your clothes and jump out the window, my husband's home early!"

"I can't jump out the window--it's raining cats and dogs out there!"

"If my husband catches us in here, he'll kill us both!" she ejaculates. "He's got a hot temper--and a gun! The rain is the least of your problems!"

The boyfriend hightails it outta the sack, grabs his clothes and jumps out the window.

As he runs down the street in the pouring rain, he soon discovers he has run right into the middle of the town's annual marathon.

He starts running alongside the other competitors--about 300 of them.

Although naked, with his clothes tucked under his arm, he tries to blend in as best he can with an infectious melange of faux nonchalance and sublimated panic.

After a while a small gaggle of runners who had been watching him with some curiosity jogs closer.

"Do you always run in the nude?" one asks.

"Oh yes!" he replies, gulping in air. "It feels so wonderfully free!"

Another runner moves alongside. "Do you always run carrying your clothes with you under your arm?"

"Absolutely!" exclaims the nude joggist. "That way I can get dressed at the end of the run, hop in my car and drive straight home!"

Then a third runner casts his eyes somewhat lower and inquires: "Do you always wear a condom when you run?"

"No! Just when it's raining!"

Letter from Denmark

Dear Jocop,

We in Denmark cannot figure out why you are even bothering to hold an election.

On one side, you have a bitch who is a lawyer, married to a lawyer, and a lawyer who is married to a bitch who is a lawyer.

On the other side, you have a war hero married to a woman with a huge chest who owns a beer distributorship.

Is there a contest here?

Yours in Yeesus,

Bang Olafsen

The Ancient Motorcyclist

A crusty old biker, on a summer ride in the country, walks into a tavern and sees a sign hanging over the bar which reads:

CHEESEBURGER: $1.50

CHICKEN SANDWICH : '$2.50

HANDJOB: $10.00

Checking his wallet to see if he's good for it, he walks up to the bar and beckons to one of the three exceptionally attractive women serving drinks to a pathetic looking group of farmers.

"Yes?" inquires the one with the big tits, smiling knowingly, "can I help you?"

"I was wondering," mumbles the biker, "are you the young lady who gives the handjobs?"

"Yes," she purrs, "I am."

The old biker replies, "Well wash your hands, I want a cheeseburger."

Boom

S Revitz will not have to worry about any heavenly scenario such as that appearing below. Because S Revitz is going straight to hell.


A Taliban suicide bomber pulls the plug and explodes, taking 24 women, 12 children and six infants with him.

A short while later he finds himself on a huge white staircase leading towards heaven, so he starts climbing.

After an hour of hard climbing, he arrives at a landing where an old man in white robes with a long flowing beard is sitting surrounded by ledgers.

"Excuse me, sir." he says. "Are you Mohammed?"

"No," replies the old man, "I am St Peter. Mohammed is further up the stairs."

"But this is wonderful news!" ejaculates the martyred bomber. "Mohammed is higher than St Peter! I can hardly believe it!"

With this he carries on climbing the stairs.

After an hour or so of hard climbing he arrives at another landing where stands a serene old man with white hair and a long beard.

"Excuse me, sir," he says. "Are you Mohammed?"

"No," replies the old man, "I am Jesus. Mohammed is further up the stairs."

"Oh for joy, but this is amazing news!" screams the bomber. "Mohammed is higher than Jesus, I can hardly believe it! Martyrdom is even better than I thought possible!!!"

With this he carries on climbing up the stairs.

After another hour or so of hard climbing he arrives at an overwhelmingly huge, awe-inspiring landing in the baroque manner.

There, sitting on a magnificent throne is another old man, even more magisterial than the others, complete with impeccable white robes, magnificent beard and flowing white hair.

"Excuse me, sir," he says excitedly. "Are you Mohammed?"

"No," replies the old man. "I am God."

"But this is beyond anything that I might ever have thought possible," shrieks the bomber in total thrall.

"Mohammed is higher than God! I am so happy I can't believe it, martyrdom is more than wonderful, all my prayers have been answered!!!!!"

"You look tired, my son," intoned God in a voice to carve granite. "Would you like to sit down and rest a moment?"

"Oh, yes!" replies the bomber. "I am bone weary from the climb and would love a rest before I carry on, thank you."

The bomber sits down and God says, "You look thirsty, my son, would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Oh yes please!" replies the bomber. "I am most thirsty, thank you!"

With this God turns, snaps his fingers and shouts: "Oy, Mohammed! Two coffees over here and make it snappy!!"

Omission Accomplished

Upon hearing that the Commander-in-Chief was rosily doubtful as to whether he was still alive, Osama bin Ladin sent the leader of the free world a letter in his own handwriting to remove all doubt.

When Fratman opened the letter, it appeared to contain a coded message:

370HSSV 0773H

Bush was baffled. He e-mailed it to Condi Rice over at Foggy Bottom. Condi and her aides had no clue so they passed it on to the FBI.

No one could solve it over at the J. Edgar Hoover Building so it went from there to the CIA at Langley where it was ignored for fear they'd be unable either to spin it, or else stab someone in the back with it.

It then went to the NSA where it was lost because they were overwhelmed with unencrypted domestic email. They plunged deep into CYA mode and, as usual, forwarded the message to MI6 in London.

MI-6 cabled the White House:

"Tell the President he's holding the message upside down."

The Purina Diet

I was in Wal-Mart buying a large bag of Purina for my dog, Cinder.

While I was waiting in line to check out, the woman behind me asked if I had a dog....

I heard something snap inside my skull so on impulse, I told her No, I was starting the Purina Diet again although I probably shouldn't because last time I'd ended up in the hospital but that I had lost fifty pounds before I'd come to in the intensive care unit with tubes coming out all my orifices and IV's in both arms.

The woman's peculiar eyes bulged out of her dough face.

She was totally buying the health angle so I told her it was an easy, inexpensive diet and that the way it works is to load your pockets or purse with Purina nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The package said the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again, I needed to lose the weight.

Horrified, the woman asked if I weren't taking a big chance--if something in the dog food hadn't poisoned me with the result I'd ended up hospitalized.

Not at all, I replied. I'd been sitting in the middle of the street licking my dick when a Buick hit me.

Stress Hyperindicated Image-based Technology

The Editorial Board prefers to think of S Revitz, our Senior Wholistic Quantum Mechanics Correspondent, as The Journal's answer to Dr Sanjay Gupta.

Revitz, pictured right, brought the extract appearing below to our attention in connection with his impending Hard Rock Colonic Lavage Tour™.

The article is redacted from our sister publication, "The Journal of Contemporary Pharmaceuticals."


The Rorschack-derivated image-based diagnostic set forth below was the result of a controlled clinical investigation into 4,267 test cases performed on the basis of blind studies with placebo-centered subliminals at the John Hopkins Simbiotic Medical Center.

The test image consists of a photograph of two (2) identical 'dolphins.'

Adjusted for statistical aberrationals, test subjects were determined to perceive anomalies between the two 'dolphins' in direct proportion to respective stress levels indicated by the adjusted questionnaire results.

The perception of more than three (3) 'anomalies' between the two (2)'dolphins' indicated the requirement for immediate intravenous drug therapeutics under conditions of physical restraint in a strictly controlled environment.

[To see diagnostic image, left-click on X. --Ed.]

Happy Landings to You, Amelia Earheart

My ex-wife started taking flying lessons about the time our divorce started. She got her license shortly before the final decree was issued later that same year.

Yesterday afternoon she narrowly escaped injury in the aircraft she was piloting when she was forced to make an emergency landing in Southern Idaho because of bad weather. Thank God our kids were with me at the beach house for the weekend.

The NTSB issued a preliminary report citing pilot error--Judy was flying a single engine aircraft in IFR (instrument flight rating) conditions while only having been qualified for VFR (visual flight rating).

The absence of a post-crash fire was likely due to insufficient fuel on board. No one on the ground was injured.

Photographs were taken at the scene show the extent of damage to her aircraft.

[Please left-click on X to see photograph. --Ed.]

Now. What Seems To Be The Problem?

A woman went to the doctor's office where she was seen by a young new doctor. After about four minutes in the examination room, the doctor told her she was pregnant.

She burst out screaming and ran down the hallway. An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was. She told him her story.

After listening, he had her sit down and relax in another room.

The doctor marched down the hallway to the first doctor and demanded,"What's the matter with you? Mrs. Smith is 64 years old, she has four grown children, seven grandchildren and you told her she was pregnant?"

The new doctor continued writing in the medical file without looking up.

"Does she still have the hiccups?"

Curriculum Vitae

S. Revitz once headed up the Amsterdam office of the personnel and recruiting division of your standard grim, monolithic, totalitarian, unfree-market-driven, zero-laughter- tolerant multinational devoted solely to the selfless search for resources to meet the humanitarian requirements of its customers with no thought whatsoever given to executive salary and benefit packages, stock options, golden parachutes and/or Al Qaeda™ golf club dismembership fees. Amsterdam is gone now, as are those once-omnipotent multinationals--all absorbed into infinitely larger enterprises of a more confidentially efficient, infinitely more civic-minded and ever so slightly less transparent ownership (Carlyle).

But Srevitz is still out there and he kept this job application:


Deer Sir,

I waunt to apply for the secritary job what I saw in the paper.


I can Type real quik wit one finggar and do sum a counting.
I think I am good on the phone and no I am a pepole person, Pepole really seam to respond to me well. Im lookin for a Jobb as a secritary but it musent b e to complicaited I no my spelling is not to good but find that I Offen can get a job thru my persinalety.

My salerery is open so we can discus wat you want to pay me and wat you think that I am werth, I can start imeditely. Thank you in advanse fore yore anser.

hopifuly Yore best aplicant so farr.

Sinseerly,

Peggy May Starlings

PS : Because my resimay is a bit short - below is a pickture of me taken at my last jobb

[Left-click on X --Ed.]

You Remain Under Oath

S. Revitz, pictured left, has been in and out of court (Camp Zeist) 82 times.

His last appearance was in the matter of his wife's felony charge for assault with a dead weapon.

The judge summarized as follows: "Sad to say, this indictment is quashed for lack of evidence. Mr Revitz, I say this to you. There's a bus leaving at six. Be under it."


Following are allegedly verbatim excerpts from "Disorder in the American Courts":

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.


ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.


ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?


ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn't it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn't know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: What?


ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: Uh, he's twenty-one.


ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shitting me?


ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: Uh, I was getting laid?


ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney?


ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.


ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Guess.


ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.


ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS: All my autopsies are performed on dead people. Would you like to rephrase that?


ATTORNEY: All your responses must be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.


ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him.


ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

Man Driving Down Road

S Revitz remitted this from Kerala. Is not the battlefield tableau out of Bhagavad Gita insinuated? And isn't some asshole in Tinseltown thinking, 'Hmmm. Vin Diesel as Arjuna. It just might work....'

Man driving down road.
Woman driving up same road.
They pass each other.
The woman yells out the window, PIG!
Man yells out window, BITCH!
Man rounds next curve.
Crashes into a HUGE PIG in middle of road.
Dies.

Happy Easter

The Journal extends its best wishes to all on the occasion of this solemn renewal of religious fervor, Praise Jaysus! The ABC survey showed the Journal's readership coming in just behind The Watchtower and The Jihad Times in suicidal distemper. Thanks to S Revitz.

The Government They Deserve

Some sour old sonsabitches have recently been making noise to the effect that plummeting educational standards are contributing to a catastrophic decline in the level of public discourse across the West.

What bullshit.

S Revitz, the Journal's Philology Correspon- dent, has forwarded excerpts from recent essays by contemporary students (the Big PX in this case) which prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that it's all, like, whatever.

OK?

Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse, without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

And the point of this photograph would be...?

S. Revitz, a wise-ass, sent this in after the cartoon incident. He will get his. We know where he lives. Or used to. Actually, we're not quite sure. I mean, you start up a perfectly normal jihad, do the flow charts, get the venture capital, hire the hot shot suicide bombers. And then the idiots start coming in from HQ to fuck it all up.