Past Winners

I was waiting tables in a noisy lobster restaurant in Maine when a vacationing Southerner stumped me with a drink order. I approached the bartender. “Have you ever heard of a drink called ‘Seven Young Blondes’?” I asked.

He admitted he’d never heard of it, and grabbed a drink guidebook to look it up. Unable to find the recipe, he then asked me to go back and tell the patron that he’d be happy to make the drink if he could list the ingredients for him. “Sir,” I asked the customer, “can you tell me what’s in that drink?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s wine,” he said, pronouncing his words carefully, “Sauvignon blanc.”

As I stepped out of the shower, I heard someone in my kitchen downstairs. Knowing that my wife was out, I grabbed my 1903 heirloom rifle—which no longer works—and crept downstairs, forgetting the fact that I was in my birthday suit.

I came around the corner with the gun raised, only to find my wife loading the dishwasher. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought I heard an intruder. 
I came down to scare him.”

Scanning the contours of my doughy, naked body, she mumbled, “You didn’t need the gun.”

A small boy turned to his Aunt Mildred and said, "Wow, you're not pretty!"

His mother overheard the remark and was appalled. She took him aside and gave him a real telling-off before ordering him to go back out to say sorry to Aunt Mildred.

Suitably chastened, the boy went over and said quietly, "Aunt Mildred, I'm sorry you're not pretty."

Some things are just better left unsaid...

Which I usually realize right after I've said them.