More jokes.

Losers.

I know all those.

How about:

What's red and black and can't turn around in a telephone booth?

A nun with a javelin through her head.




What do you call a red-headed test-tube baby?

Bozo the Clone.




Scott Lynch dies on Monday and goes to Hell. Satan meets him at the gate. "Hey, Scott, great to see you. Come on in!"
Scott looks around. It's the Tropicana meets Club Med. He starts thinking, Hey, this atheism shit worked out pretty good. He says, "What's it like around here?"
Satan says, "You like gambling?"
"Sure!"
"Oh, you're gonna love Tuesday. No limit, any games you want, and you never lose. You like good food?"
"Yeah, who doesn't?"
"Great. Wednesday is gourmet night. Any cuisine, the greatest chefs in history, and you never get full and you don't gain an ounce. You like drinking?"
Scott's thinking, How lucky can I get? He says, "Of course!"
"Oh, Thursday'll be your favorite. Cognac, single malts, small batch bourbon, microbrews, drunk as you want and you never get sick and there's no hangover. How about girls? You like girls?"
Scott's thinking, can it get any better? He says, "Sure, girls, bring'em on."
Satan says, "Friday will be great for you. It's that Muslim Paradise. Endless virgins. And you're hard for all eternity."
Scott says, "Great! Holy shit, I'm glad I went to Hell!"
Satan's right with him. "And we're glad to have you! By the way, how do you feel about being boned up the ass with a dildo made of red-hot barbwire?"
Scott (wincing): "Um, I'm not really into that."
Satan. "Oh. Well, tonight's gonna be a problem, then."
Scott swallows hard.
Satan shrugs apologetically. "And, um, Scott buddy? In Hell, it's ALWAYS Monday."