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There is a story about a certain bookmaker who was making a long trip by car when towards nightfall he happened upon an inn which had a most unusual name, The Even Steven. Since it was located in the middle of a desolate stretch of country, and he didn't know how much farther the next place would be, he decided to stop there for the night, and satisfy his curiosity about the name at the same time.

"It's very simple, really," the proprietor explained. "You see, my name is Steven Even. So I just decided to turn it around and call this The Even Steven. I thought it might get a few folks puzzled enough to stop and ask questions, and sometimes it does."

"That's a pretty smart way to use the luck of a name," said the bookie appreciatively. "I bet it brings you a lot of business."

"It hasn't brought me so much luck," he said. "The folks who stop here don't stay long. There's not much gaiety around here, as you could see. In fact, there's not another soul lives closer than thirty miles away, whichever way you go. Makes it pretty lonely for me, a widower. And worse still for my daughters. Three of the loveliest girls you ever set eyes on, should have their pick of boyfriends. But, they are getting so frustrated they're about to do anything for a man."

The bookie made sympathetic noises, and listened to more in the same vein until hunger obliged him to change the subject to that of food. An excellent home-cooked dinner was served to him by a gorgeous blonde who introduced herself as Blanche Even; and when he was finished she still kept pressing him to ask for anything else he wanted.

Finally, she said, "Would you like me to sit and talk to you for a while?"

"Thank you," he said politely, "but I've had a long day and I feel like closing the book."

He went to his room and had just started to undress when there was a knock at the door and an absolutely breath-taking brunette came in. "I'm Carmen Even," she said. "I just wanted to see if you'd got everything you want."

"I think so, thank you," he said pleasantly. "I do a lot of traveling, so I pack very systematically."

When he had finally convinced her and got rid of her, he climbed in between the sheets and was preparing to read himself to sleep over the Racing Form when the door opened again to admit an utterly gorgeous redhead in a negligee to end all negligees. "I'm Ginger Even," she announced. "I wanted to be sure your bed was comfortable."

"It is," he assured her.

"I hope you're not just being tactful," she insisted. "May I try it myself?"

"If you must," said the bookie primly. "I will get out while you do it."

When she had gone, he settled down with a sigh of relief and was about to put out the light at last when the door burst open once more and the proprietor himself stomped in, glowing with indignation. "What's the matter with you," he roared. "I got to listen all night to my daughters moaning an' wailing, the most luscious gals in this county, because they all try to show you hospitality an' you won't give one of 'em a tumble. Ain't us Evens good enough for you?"

"I'm sorry," said the guest. "But I told you when I registered, I'm a professional bookmaker....


...I only lay Odds."

 
Little Johnny's teacher spent the morning talking about the legendary Aesop and his fables. Before school let out at the end of the day she reminded the children of Aesop and asked them to go home and think of a story to be concluded with a moral. They could share their stories in class the next day.

The following day the teacher asks for the first volunteer to tell their story. Little Suzy raises her hand. "My dad owns a farm and every Sunday we load the chicken eggs on the truck and drive into town to sell them at the market. Well, one Sunday we hit a big bump the basket with all the eggs fell out of the back onto the road. All the eggs were ruined." When the teacher asked for the moral of the story, Suzy replied, "Don't keep all your eggs in one basket."

Little Lucy went next. "My dad owns a farm too. Dad decided we needed about 12 more chickens so he took a dozen eggs and put them the incubator. Only three of the eggs hatched."; Again, the teacher asked for the moral of the story. Lucy replied, "Don't count your chickens before they hatch."

Next up was little Johnny. "My uncle Ted fought in the Vietnam war, and his plane was shot down over enemy territory. He jumped out before it crashed but could only take a case of beer, a machine gun and a machete. On the way down, he drank the case of beer. Then he landed right in the middle of 100 Vietnamese soldiers. He shot 70 with his machine gun, but then he ran out of bullets! So he pulled out his machete and killed 20 more. Then the blade on his machete broke, so he killed the last ten with his bare hands."

The teacher looked a little shocked. After clearing her throat, she asked what possible moral there could be to this story.


"Don't fuck with Uncle Ted when he's been drinking."

 
Warning, sexist, misogynistic joke.

A blind man walks by a fish shop thinking it was a brothel. "Good morning ladies!" He says.
 
Q: How do you keep fish from smelling?
A: Cut off their noses.
 
Two boys peeing off a bridge. First says, "My that water's cold." Second says, "Deep too!"
 
A rabbi was walking down the street when, suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew his keepa off his head. The rabbi ran after his hat but the wind was so strong it kept blowing his hat farther and farther away. He just couldn’t catch up with it.


A young non-Jewish boy, witnessing this event and being more fit than the rabbi, ran after the hat and caught it. The young boy handed the hat over to the rabbi. The rabbi was so pleased and grateful that he gave the young man $20, put his hand on the boy’s head and blessed him.


The young man was very excited about both the tip and the blessing.


The young man decided to take his new found wealth to the racetrack.


He bet the entire $20 on the first race he could.


After the races, the young man returned home and recounted his very exciting day at the races to his father.


“I arrived at the fifth race,” said the young man. “I looked at the racing program and saw that a horse by the name of ‘Top Hat’ was
running. The odds on this horse were 100-to-1, but after saving the rabbi’s hat, and having received $20 and the rabbi’s blessing, I thought this was a message from God. So, I bet the entire $20 on Top Hat, even though he had no chance of winning, but to my amazement, the horse won.”


“You must have made a fortune,” said the father.


“Well yes, $2,000. But wait, it gets better,” replied the son. “In the following race, a horse by the name of ‘Stetson’ was running. The odds on this horse were 30 to 1. ‘Stetson’ being some kind of hat and again thinking of the rabbi’s blessing and his hat, I decided to bet all my winnings on this horse.”


“What happened?” asked the excited father. ”


“Stetson’ came in like a rocket. Now I had $60,000!”


“Are you telling me you made all this money?” asked his excited father.


“No,” said the son. “I lost it all on the next race. There was a horse in this race named ‘Chateau,’ which is French for hat. So I decided to bet all the money on ‘Chateau,’ but the horse broke down and came in last.”


“Hat in French is “Chapeau” not “Chateau” you moron,” said the father. “You lost all of the money because of your ignorance. Tell me, what horse won the race?”


The son answered,

“A long shot from Japan named ‘Yamaka’.”


​
 
A Jew, a Irish man and Scott walk into a bar. The barman looks up from wiping glasses exclaims : " what is this, a joke!"
 
A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.

A bar was walked into by the passive voice.

An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.

Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”

A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.

Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.

A question mark walks into a bar?

A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.

Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out -- we don't serve your type."

A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.

A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.

Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.

A synonym strolls into a tavern.

At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar -- fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.

A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.

Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.

A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.

An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.

The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.

A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned a man with a glass eye named Ralph.

The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.

A dyslexic walks into a bra.

A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.

An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television getting drunk and smoking cigars.

A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.

A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.

A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony.
 
My wife made up a joke - the ONLY joke EVER that is GUARANTEED funny:

"A guy walks into a bar... and says something really funny"
 
A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, "Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!". The woman says, "Me too, you've been eating grass for the past ten minutes!"
 
An angry wife was complaining about her husband spending all his free time in a bar, so one night he took her along with him. "What'll you have?" he asked. "Oh, I don't know. The same as you I suppose," she replied. So, the husband ordered a couple of Jack Daniel's and threw his down in one shot. His wife watched him, then took a sip from her glass and immediately spat it out. "Yuck, that's TERRIBLE!" she spluttered. "I don't know how you can drink this stuff!" "Well, there you go," cried the husband. "And you think I'm out enjoying myself every night!"
 
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