A man visiting New York stopped at a restaurant which claimed it could supply any dish ordered, so the tourist asked the waiter for Kangaroo on toast. The waiter came back a while later and said, “I am so sorry, sir, but we have run out of bread.”
Three rather deaf friends meet on the street; “Windy, isn’t it? Said one. “No, it’s Thursday,” said the second. “So am I,” said the third. “Let’s go and have a beer.”
The poet had been droning on at the party about his various sources of inspiration. “Yes, he told the young girl. “I’m at present collecting some of my better poems to be published posthumously.” “Lovely,” said the girl. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Harry came home from Sunday school and asked his mother, “Do people really come from dust?” “In a way said,” said his mother. “And do they go back to dust?” “Yes, in a way.” She replied. “Well, mother, I looked under my bed, and somebody’s either coming or going.”