Laurel and Hardy, A Chump at Oxford, 1940 - MUSEUMVIEWS - 1

In need of a good joke

I am in need of a joke. I have just one. I need another. D and I go out with friends, to dinner or for a drink. D thinks that he’s very funny so will crack a few jokes. Then other people tell their jokes. Then the most hilarious thing of all – D announces that I only have one joke, and that I always tell it and that I haven’t got any more.

“Tell us a joke,” he says.

“No,” I say.

“She’s only got one,” he says, giggling.

“So?” I say.

“Tell us it.”


“I’ll tell it,” he says, then of course can’t remember it, his head being stuff so full of his own jokes. “I only know the punchline. You tell it.”

And then I do tell it.

The joke is this:
What do you call a square testicle?
A cubicle

This, I think, is very funny. It makes most people laugh. D, however, has heard it many, many times. He forgets that the lot of a married person is to hear one’s spouse repeat the same stories and jokes ad nauseum until death do us part. He forgets how many times I’ve heard him tell the story about his brother and the lazy cats, or about how he nearly died scuba diving (he didn’t nearly die), or the number of times he’s retold the winning joke from the Edinburgh festival (“I decided to sell my Hoover… well it was just collecting dust.”)

The problem with my joke is that it’s not really mine. A friend told me it a few years ago and I thought it was funny and it stuck in my head. I like the wordplay, the way that the words rhyme with each other. I like the three-syllable sound of the words. I like the image of a square testicle.

But I need a new one, or I need some new friends. Probably a new joke is easier to come by. The problem with jokes is that half of them are racist, mysoginistic, or filthy, making them inappropriate for telling to people who you don’t know all that well (I’m probably already on shakey grounds with my testicle joke, but a least it’s more fit for public conception than 50% of D’s). About another quarter of them are totally lame. The type of jokes our eleven-year old niece tells us, in which she gets the telling totally wrong, giggling like a harpee as she tries to construct a joke in a sort of Burroughs cut-up technique fashion. Or jokes from a joke book that must have been passed down through a hundred generations.

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”



“Knock knock.”

“I’ve heard this one before.”

“I hate you.” Screams. Storms off.

I have done some searching for my new joke. I need one that is short. I have a terrible memory and I fear mangling a joke to be received by stoney silence while D giggles (he does that a lot).

Here are some that I’ve come across:

What has teeth but no mouth?
A comb.
More of a riddle than a joke.

How do you know that carrots are good for your eyesight?
Have you ever seen a rabbit with glasses?

Why did the man put condoms on his ears during sex?
He didn’t want to get hearing aids.
Good imagery but not very funny.

Why did the cat go to the hospital?
To have a CAT scan done.

The thing about the square testicle joke is that it’s pretty much perfect. It contains so much:

  • a play on words
  • rhyme
  • slightly riskΓ© but not over the top therefore suitable for most company
  • conjurs up an excellent mental image

However, my telling of it is ruined by D giggling and pronouncing to the world how hilarious it is that I, his wife, have only one joke. It’s not simply that I have only one joke, but that I am the joke. I, in my one-jokeness, have become a prop in D’s box of funnies that he trots out for anyone who will listen.

And so, has anyone got a new one for me?


  1. I couldn’t be friends with anyone I wasn’t comfortable saying “testical” in front of.

    Here’s my oldie but (very clean) goodie:
    Did you here about the snail who painted the letter S all over his car? Yeah, he wanted people to say, “Hey, look at that S car go!”

    Escargot. Heehee. πŸ™‚


  2. A man and woman drive to the store, only to have their car break down in the parking lot. The man told his wife to carry on with the shopping while he fixed the car in the lot.

    The wife returned later to see a small group of people near the car. On closer inspection, she saw a pair of male legs protruding from under the chassis. Although the man was in shorts, his lack of underpants turned private parts into glaringly public ones.

    Unable to stand the embarrassment, she dutifully stepped forward, quickly put her hand UP his shorts, and tucked everything back into place. On regaining her feet, she looked across the hood and found herself staring at her husband who was standing idly by.

    The mechanic, however, had to have three stitches in his forehead.


    1. Too long for me to remember. I have the worst memory ever! Also -not- that funny.

      Update: D concurs! He says it’s more like a story that happened than a joke.


      1. I had to think for a moment… Then I realized that the wife effectively GROPED the mechanic (while hiding his privates) which caused him to reflexively smash his head into the underside of the car…

        (I was on am “IMDb” message board that related to a character with the name “Siobhan” and how it should or should NOT be pronounced…

        “Re: Why can’t SMG [Sarah Michelle Gellar] pronounce Siobhan properly?
        by buffyslayerofvampyres Β» Mon Dec 28 2015 02:57:50 Flag β–Ό | Reply |
        IMDb member since February 2012

        She’s obviously never heard the ‘Knock Knock’ joke!

        Knock Knock!
        Who’s there?
        Siobhan who?

        Sorry, I will need age verification before I can tell you the rest. You could try Googling it.”)

        Here’s my joke about my eldest brother…

        You know how there’s the “Ego” and the “Superego”?

        Well, THAT guy is ALL EGO!

        And it’s just SUPER!


  3. Elephant Jokes

    Why did the Elephant paint his toe nails red?
    So he could hide in the strawberry patch.

    Why did the Elephant with red toe nails hide in the cherry tree?
    So he could trip low flying birds.

    How many Elephants can you fit in a Volkswagon?
    5, two in the front seat, two in the back seat, and one in the glove compartment.

    How do you tell if there’s an elephant in your refridgerator?
    Footprints in the pudding.

    How do you tell if there are 5 elephants in your refridgerator?
    There’s a volkswagon parked out front.

    Compliments of my father who kept me laughing throughout my youth.


  4. Ok, one more:

    A man goes into a restaurant and is seated. A particularly attractive waitress wearing a very short skirt came to his table and asked if he was ready to order, “What would you like, sir?”

    He looks at the menu and then looks at her, then answers, “A quickie.”

    The waitress turns and walks away in disgust.

    After she regains her composure she returns and asks again, “What would you like, sir?”

    Again the man looks at her and again answers, “A quickie, please.”

    This time her anger takes over, she reaches over and slaps him across the face with a resounding “SMACK!” and storms away.

    A man sitting at the next table leans over and whispers, “Um, I think it’s pronounced ‘quiche’.”


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