A man walks into a bar, and half his head is an orange.

He sits down, orders a drink. The bartender eyes him warily, but gets him what he wants. The man sits sipping the drink, idly watching the soccer game on the bar television. After a while, he runs dry and orders another.

"Tell you what," says the bartender, "this next one's on the house -- but you've got to tell me what happened to your head. I don't mean to be rude there, but..."

The man smiles. "No, not at all. I get this all the time.

Well, it started with the Gulf War. I was a young kid fresh out of high school, but I was poor. I needed money for college, and the Army looked like a good way out of the ghetto. But then they shipped me over to Kuwait. My platoon took some heavy fire during Desert Storm, and I was separated from them.

I wandered the desert for days, with only the contents of my pack to sustain me. I ran out of water, I ran out of food. I was desperate; on the verge of death -- when suddenly, I saw a glint of metal in the distance...

I forced myself onward, hoping the shining brightness was a glint of gunmetal from my platoon, or a city on the horizon, or anything. When I finally reached it, it was a piece of metal half-burried in the sand. I dug around it and excavated what appeared to be an old Persian oil lamp.

There was an inscription on the lamp, too covered in dust to read. I rubbed at the embossed lettering -- and then, a swirl of smoke and light surrounded me. Suddenly, before me, stood a ten-foot tall being, dressed in traditional Arabian garb, arms crossed.

'I am the Djinni of the lamp,' said the entity. 'For releasing me, I shall grant you three wishes. What is your first wish, my master?'

I was incredulous, of course. I deduced I must be hallucinating, that this was desert madness. I decided to test the mirage. 'Alright,' I tasked it, 'I wish for a wallet with a million dollars in it, that I can never lose, and whenever I take any money out of it the sum is immediately replenished.'

'Your wish is granted!' boomed the Djinni. I felt a bulge in one of my uniform pockets. Reaching in, I pulled out a new wallet, stuffed to bursting with crisp, new American bills. I counted them -- sure enough, it was a million dollars. I ripped up the bills, cast them to the four winds, and threw the wallet as hard as I could. The moment it was beyond my sight, it teleported instantaneously back to my pocket, refilled with another million dollars.

'What is you second wish, my master?'

I pondered the notion for a long moment, assessing my needs. 'Djinni,' I said, 'for my second wish, I want to be transported to a cool, abandoned palace, into a harem room with a hundred beautiful young virgins who will all fall madly in love with me at first sight, before a buffet table set with a feast fit for a king.'

'Your wish is granted!' Poof! I found myself in a royal harem, escaped from the heat of the desert. All around me, nubile girls eyed me with keen interest. In front of me, every conceivable type of meat was roasted to perfect tenderness, set with all the appetizers, side-dishes, salads, soups, and desserts of the four corners of the globe.

I dined until I was near-bloated, and then I had a lot of sex. I mean a lot. Several hours later, laying upon a bed of feathers, brown and blonde and red haired beauties nuzzling into me like puppies at their mother's underbelly, the Djinni stood before me, looking down in satisfaction at his work so far.

'What is your third wish, my master?'

I thought long and hard. Truly, this last wish tasked the very limits of my imagination, my beliefs, my ethics, my philosophy. Hours passed in silence, save for the gentle snoring of the ladies surrounding me.

At last, I spoke.

Three logicians are all in town for a conference and decide to go out for a drink.
They walk into a pub near their hotel and they all take a seat at the bar.
The bartender walks up to them and in a slight southern accent asks, "would you all like drink?"
The first logician says "I don't know."
The second logician says "I don't know."
The third logician says "Yes!"

That's the longest anti-joke I've ever heard/read. :laughing:

Seriously, I'm not going to read 48 pages to see whether or not this joke has already been posted. (Let's be realistic; I have to save some time).

But here's my joke:

Fred and Dave are walking in the woods... Dave smells something weird. He says, "Something smells like sh*t. Do you smell anything?" Fred says, "No." They continue walking... Two minutes later, Dave still smells something strange. Dave says, "Something really does smell like sh*t... Did you sh*t in your pants?" Fred replies, "No." Dave and Fred continue walking... Three minutes later, the smell gets even worse. Dave says, "Something obviously smells like sh*t. Take off your pants. I mean it, take off your pants. You have to prove to me that you did not sh*t in your pants." Fred takes off his pants and Dave sees the nasty stain... Dave says, "Ah ha! I was right! You really did sh*t in your pants!" Fred responds by making the following statement, "Oh, I thought you meant today... No, I did not sh*t in my pants today. But I sh*t in my pants yesterday."

I'm pretty sure that jokes been posted, I already tell it to everyone I meet irl.

Well, hopefully, these two jokes have not been posted... Keep in mind: I'm not racist. (The thread-starter wrote that racist jokes do not offend him/her.)

Joke A:

The Russians were digging and they found fiber optics. So the Russians said, "Look at us... We were the first ones to discover fiber optics." The Americans were digging and they found some aluminum. The Americans said, "We were the first ones to discover aluminum." The French were digging and they found nothing. So the French said, "Look at us... We were the first ones to discover wireless technology!"

Joke B:

Don't be racist; be like Mario. He's an Italian plumber, who was made by the Japanese. He speaks English, he looks Mexican. Mario jumps like a black man and grabs coins like a Jew!

Mary with the cherry :D

Knock Knock.

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Philip Glass.

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William Basinski.