After the sermon a bewildered man approached the preacher.
"Excuse me Father, I couldn't help but notice that none of your hymns have words. You just hummed the same tune each time."
"Oh yes, but each has a special story."
"So they sound the same, but have different meanings?"
"Yeah, they're hummin' hymns."

Two detectives stood in an apartment, getting a statement from a woman whose husband was just rushed to the hospital.

"It was horrible," she said. "This man knocked on our door and when I opened it, he introduced himself as the King of Spain. He was dressed rather oddly, in purple robes and a long purple cape. And he wore this strange crown... it looked like it had horns coming out of it. Made him look like Satan himself! Naturally, I was a bit frightened. But when I went to shut the door, he rushed past me, pulled a frying pan out of his robes and struck my husband in the head with it!"

One of the detectives asked, "Did he touch anything in the apartment? Anything we could dust for fingerprints?"

"No," the woman responded. "But this business card fell out of his pocket when he rushed out of the apartment after assaulting my husband."

She handed the card to the detective. He looked at it and nodded as he silently read the name on the card. The other detective asked, "So, do we have a suspect?"

"Yep," the first detective replied. "It was a Juan Knight, one horned frying purple people leader."

Raised in an Irish Community in the UK, I spent 20 years in the USA and then came to Australia last year with a very odd mixture of accents, which led to my Aussie aquaintances constantly correcting my pronounciation.

After various mysterious illness's, I went to a doctor who told me I was simply suffering from (bada boom!)

"Phonic Critique Syndrome"

(Sir, kindly leave the stage......)

After a long struggle through life, the 85-year-old Darryl Strawberry finally crossed over to the other side. He was greeted at the pearly gates with open arms. St. Peter evidently was a fan of Darryl's past ball-playing.

"Welcome, Darryl. Welcome to Heaven." These were St. Peter's first words to him, shortly followed by, "Can I have your autograph?" and, "I can answer any questions you may have."

There was only one question Darryl had for St. Peter. "Do you have baseball up here?" he asked. "Baseball had been my entire life. I made some mistakes, sure. But I want to go back into baseball. I feel rejuvenated, as I'm sure everyone does when they cross over. With my new energy, I'm sure I can become great again."

St. Peter smiled and nodded. "Of course we have baseball up here," he said, and suddenly Darryl found himself in the office of one of Heaven's team managers. The manager look pleasantly upon Darryl and said, "We can sign you up right away. We have an opening in left field. Would you like it?"

Darryl didn't have to think twice. "Of course!" he said.

"Great! Sign here," the manager said after producing a contract. "How long do you think you'll be playing with us?"

"Baseball is my one passion. I'd like to play it for as long as I can."

"That will be a pretty long time. After all, you have an eternity up here."

Darryl smiled. "I know," he said.

But Darryl was right. He kept playing, and true to his word his passion drove him to play for the eternity he stayed up in heaven. Always in left field, always proud, he is still doing it today and will continue to do so for all time.

And that, my friends, is how it came to be that Strawberry fields forever.

“Doctor! Doctor! I don’t know what to do!” said Martha, the stodgy nurse.

“What seems to be the problem?” inquired Doctor Limbaugh.

“I don’t know what diagnosis to put down for the Twins who are Schizophrenic and think that there is a conspiracy against them!”

“Oh, just put Pair Annoyed.”

A retired couple found themselves in hard times. Betty, a retired seamstress, enjoys her leisure time, but understands that she will likely be force to return to work. Nevertheless, she procrastinates. Frank, her husband, has already obtained a position in sales at a car dealership. He was trying to encourage his wife to seek employment when he saw a timely article in their local newspaper. Dry cleaners and tailors demand better pay and are going on strike. Frank, never one to miss an opportunity, turned to Betty and said:

“You have to iron while the strike is hot!”

When Arnold Schwarzenegger was auditioning for the lead role in The Terminator, it was well known that David Hasselhoff wanted the part badly. And when Arnold got it, David complained to everybody he met that he wasn't given a fair break. Asked about the controversy later, Schwarzenegger replied in his broken Austrian, "Hasselhoff should not be such a loser. He should stop whining. Hasselhoff ist a baby."

The year is 56 B.C. and the Roman Centurian Flavius stationed in Sicily said to his pal, "Boy, I really miss my family, I haven't talked to them in ages." His friend replies, "Why don't you write your family a letter and attach it to a homing pigeon who will find his way back to Rome without a problem?" "I don't want to do that," Flavius answered, "don't you know the Romeing charges would be astronomical?"

He reviewed the puns he’d created for Worth's 'Puntastic' competition.

'What do you call Count Dracula when he has a hankering for pork? A HAM-pire!'

'Which fictional character has a foot fetish? The Count of Monte Kisstoe!'

He groaned. They were terrible. "There’s no way I’m entering this competition," he thought. He hated the restrictive rules imposed on the competition. "I could have come up with a great pun," he fumed, "if it weren’t for those silly restrictions."

Angrily, he re-read the contest directions, especially the last sentence:

'You will have 5 days for this contest so make your submissions count.'

Helmut enjoyed thoroughly enjoys dancing at a variety of establishments from upscale dance halls to the worst of the dives. At one such establishment, he brushed his arm against a column in sore need of repair. That night he was too inebriated to notice any discomfort, but by morning he detected a pin-prick of pain. A lengthy search revealed the source as he triumphantly exclaimed:

“Now here is the splinter from that discotheque!”