The old accountant retired after forty years, and on the top drawer of his desk they found a note that said: “debits in the columns toward the file cabinet. Credits in the column toward the window.”

Mrs. Smith, I ain’t got no crayons.
Young man, you mean, I don’t have any crayons.
You don’t have any crayons. We don’t have any crayons.
They don’t have any crayons.
Do you see what I’m getting at?
I think so. What happened to all the crayons?

Hey buddy. How late does the band play?
About half a beat behind the drummer.

A saxophone is like a lawsuit.
Everyone is happy when the case is closed.