An old guy walks into a bar and the bartender asks for ID. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “I’m almost 60 years old.” The bartender apologized, but said he had to see the license. The guy showed his ID, then paid and told the bartender to keep the change. “The tip’s for carding me,” he said. The bartender put the change in the tip cup. “Thanks,” he said. “Works every time.”
The average age of people living in our military retirement community is 85. Recently, a neighbor turned 100, and a big birthday party was thrown. Even his son turned up.
“How old are you?” a tenant asked.
“I’m 81 years old,” he answered.
The tenant shook her head. “They sure grow up fast, don’t they?”
Thomas Clements, Catonsville, Maryland
Police in Tampa, Florida, raided and shut down a weekly $4-a-round mah-jongg game played by four elderly women. The Week asked its readers for titles of crime movies that could be made about this bust:
Golden Girls, Interrupted
The Lavender Hair Mob
Indicting Miss Daisy
No Country for Old Women
The Social Security Network
As the hostess at the casino buffet showed me to my table, I asked her to keep an eye out for my husband, who would be joining me momentarily. I started to describe him: “He has gray hair, wears glasses, has a potbelly …”
She stopped me there. “Honey,” she said, “today is senior day. They all look like that.”
Rosalie Daria, Cincinnati, Ohio
“Poor Old fool,” thought the well-dressed gentleman as he watched an old man fish in a puddle outside a pub. So he invited the old man inside for a drink. As they sipped their whiskeys, the gentleman thought he’d humor the old man and asked, “So how many have you caught today?”
The old man replied, “You’re the eighth.”
From A Prairie Home Companion
When a soldier came to the clinic where I work for an MRI, he was put into the machine by an attractive, young technician. Sometime later, when the examination was over, he was helped out of the machine by a far older woman. The soldier remarked, “How long was I in there for?”
Joanne Korman, Bedford, Nova Scotia
After trick-or-treating, a teen takes a shortcut home through the cemetery. Halfway across, he’s startled by a tapping noise coming from the misty shadows. Trembling with fear, he spots an old man with a hammer and chisel, chipping away at a headstone.
“I thought you were a ghost,” says the relieved teen. “What are you doing working so late?”
“Oh, those idiots,” grumbles the old man. “They misspelled my name!”
Submitted by S. K., via Internet
A week after John bought a bull, he complained to his friend, “All that bull does is eat grass. Won’t even look at a cow.”
“Take him to the vet,” his friend suggested.
The next week, John is much happier. “The vet gave him some pills, and the bull serviced all of my cows!” he told his pal. “Then he broke through the fence and bred with all my neighbor’s cows! He’s like a machine!”
“What kind of pills were they?” asked the friend.
“I don’t know, but they’ve got a peppermint taste.”
While my parents were making their funeral arrangements, the cemetery salesman pointed out a plot that he thought they would like. “You’ll have a beautiful view of the swan pond,” he assured them.
Dad wasn’t sold: “Unless you’re including a periscope with my casket, I don’t know how I’m going to enjoy it.”
Just as she was celebrating her 80th birthday, our friend received a jury-duty notice. She called the clerk’s office to remind them that she was exempt because of her age.
"You need to come in and fill out the exemption forms," the clerk said.
"But I filled them out last year," she replied.
"You have to fill them out every year."
"Why? Do you think I’m getting younger?"