Yankele, from the Bronx, goes to vacation in Florida and decides to send his wife a quick e-mail. However he can’t find the paper where he wrote it down so he types it from memory. Unfortunately, Yankele misses one letter in the address and the e-mail is sent to a grieving rebbetzin whose husband passed away the day before. When the grieving rebbetzin checks her e-mail, she lets out a piercing scream, collapses, and is found dead by her shocked family who sees this message on her computer screen…
Just got checked in. Everything prepared for your arrival tomorrow.
Your Loving Husband
PS: Sure is hot down here.
An elderly man in Miami calls his son in New York and says, “I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing. Forty-five years of misery is enough.”
“Pop, what are you talking about?” the son screams.
“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the old man says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her,” and he hangs up.
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. “Like heck they’re getting divorced,” she shouts. “I’ll take care of this.” She calls her father immediately and screams at the old man, “You are NOT getting divorced! Don’t do a single thing until I get there. I’m calling my brother back and we’ll both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and hangs up.
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Okay,” he says. “They’re coming for Sukkoth and paying their own airfares.”
Two beggars are sitting side by side on a street in Mexico City. One has a cross in front of him. The other one the Star of David. Many people go by and look at both beggars, but only put money into the hat of the beggar sitting behind the cross. A priest comes by, stops and watches throngs of people giving money to the beggar behind the cross, but none gives to the beggar behind the Star of David.
Finally the priest goes over to the beggar behind the Star of David and says: “My poor fellow, don’t you understand? This is a Catholic country. People aren’t going to give you money if you sit there with a Star of David in front of you, especially when you’re sitting beside a beggar who has a cross. In fact, they would probably give to him just out of spite.”
The beggar behind the ‘Star of David’ listened to the priest, turned to the other beggar with the cross and said: “Moshe, look who’s trying to teach the Goldstein brothers about marketing.”
Harry Abramowitz wanted to join the Greenvale Country Club, a club known never to have had a Jewish member. This deterred Harry not at all. First, he went to court and had his name changed from Harry Moses Abramowitz to Howard Trevelyan Frobisher. Then he flew to a plastic surgeon in Switzerland, who transformed his Semitic profile into a Nordic one. Then he hired a tutor from England to change his Hester Street [New York Jewish] accent to the mellifluous modality of Regent Street. Then Harry worked his way into the graces of several members of the Greenvale Country Club…
Two years after launching upon his project, Howard Frobisher, né Harry Abramowitz, appeared before the membership committee.
The chairman said, “Please state your name.”
In plummy Oxonian accents, Harry said, “Howard Trevelyan Frobisher.”
“And where were you educated, Mr. Frobisher?”
“The usual places: Eton…Oxford…”
The chairman beamed. “And what is your religious affiliation?”
Sadly, slowly, Duved Krekman entered the headquarters of the Lantsmon’s Philanthropic League. He trudged into the office of the Executive Secretary and sighed, “Glaser, I’m here.” He sat down. “I have to make arrangements for the League to bury my wife.”
“Krekman!” exclaimed Mr. Glaser. “Don’t you remember? We buried your darling wife two years ago!”
Mr. Krekman nodded. “I remember, I remember. That was my first wife. I’m here about my second.”
Second? Mazel tov! I didn’t know you remarried.”
The Pope met with his cardinals to discuss a proposal from the Prime Minister of Israel. “Your Holiness,” said one of the Cardinals, “The Prime Minister wants to challenge you to a game of golf to show the friendship and ecumenical spirit shared by the Jewish and Catholic faiths.”
The Pope thought it was a good idea, but he had never held a golf club in his hand. “Don’t we have a cardinal to represent me?” he asked.
“None that plays golf very well,” a cardinal replied. “But,” he added, “there is a man named Jack Nicklaus, an American golfer who is a devout Catholic. We can offer to make him a Cardinal; then ask him to play as your personal representative. In addition to showing our spirit of cooperation, we’ll also win the match.” Everyone agreed it was a good idea. The call was made. Of course, Nicklaus was honored and agreed to play.
The day after the match, Nicklaus reported to the Vatican to inform the Pope of the result. “I have some good news and some bad news, Your Holiness,” said the golfer.
“Tell me the good news first, Cardinal Nicklaus,” said the Pope.
“Well, your Holiness, I don’t like to brag, but even though I’ve played some pretty terrific rounds of golf in my life, this was the best I have ever played, by far. I must have been inspired from above. My drives were long and true, my irons were accurate and purposeful and my putting was perfect. With all due respect, my play was truly miraculous.”
“There’s bad news?” the Pope asked.
“Yes,” Nicklaus sighed. “I lost to Rabbi Tiger Woods by three strokes.”
The Jewish father warned his son against marrying a shiksa [non-Jewish woman]. The son replied,
“But she’s converting to Judaism.”
“It doesn’t matter,” the old man said. “A shiksa will cause problems.”
After the wedding, the father called the son, who was in business with him, and asked him why he was not at work.
“It’s Shabbat,” the son replied.
The father was surprised: “But we always work on Saturday. It’s our busiest day.”
“I won’t work anymore on Saturday,” the son insisted, “because my wife wants us to go to shul on Shabbat.”
“See,” the father says. “I told you marrying a shiksa would cause problems.”
Sammy has stolen the rabbi’s gold watch.
He didn’t feel too good about it, so he decided, after a sleepless night to go to the rabbi.
‘Rabbi, I stole a gold watch.’
‘But Sammy! That’s forbidden! You should return it immediately!’
‘What shall I do?’
‘Give it back to the owner.’
‘Do you want it?’
‘No, I said return it to its owner.’
‘But he doesn’t want it.’
‘In that case, you can keep it.’
Customer: My keyboard is not working anymore.
Tech support: Are you sure it’s plugged into the computer?
Customer: No. I can’t get behind the computer.
Tech support: Pick up your keyboard and walk 10 paces back.
Tech support: Did the keyboard come with you?
Tech support: That means the keyboard is not plugged in. Is there another keyboard?
Customer: Yes, there’s another one here. Ah…that one does work…
A wife was making a breakfast of fried eggs for her husband. Suddenly,
he burst into the kitchen.
– “Careful,” he said, “CAREFUL! Put in some
more butter! Oh my G-D! You’re cooking too many at once! TOO MANY! Turn
them! TURN THEM NOW! We need more butter!”
– “WHERE are we going to get MORE BUTTER?
They’re going to STICK! Are they burning? BURNING! Careful. CAREFUL! I said, be CAREFUL!
You NEVER listen to me when you’re cooking! Never!”
“Turn them! Hurry up!
Are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your mind? Don’t
forget to salt them. You know you always forget to salt them. Use the
salt. USE THE SALT! THE SALT! Oh! NO! Too much! Too much salt!”
The wife stared at him, “What in the world is wrong with you? You think
I don’t know how to fry a couple of eggs?”
The husband calmly replied, “I just wanted to show you what it feels
like when I’m driving.”