I've got a funny one for ya.
Kim Jong Il, who as you'll recall was born into the dictatorship
of the "democratic" People's Republic of Korea, had to run out and purchase a ton of bricks for a new extension to his imperial palace.
He went, accompanied with his usual posse, to a local brickyard. The owner, who was obviously pleased to see Dear Leader Generalissimo Comrade Kim
, showed the crew around, after which Dear Leader picked the most Communist shade of red on the lot, as is appropriate for the leader of the peasants of the world. When Dear Leader asked how much it would cost to purchase all of the bricks, the poor brickyard owner was dejected, saying that the bricks were worth all of the money in the Treasury.
"But wait," the eccentric mason said. "Since you are
the Dear Leader, and you have skills beyond even the most powerful men, I will make you a special
offer. If you can throw this brick up so high in the sky that it does not return to earth, I will give you all
of the bricks on my lot for free!
Comrade Kim, who is a notorious skin-flint
when it comes to most financial transactions, thought about it, took the brick from the old man, and hefted it about in his hand, getting a feel for how heavy it was. After a moment of thought, he wound his arm up in his most fervent effort, and threw the brick as hard as he could into the air. The brick went up, up, up, high into the sky.
And after a moment's delay, a box of cigars landed right next to Dear Leader.No? Okay, let me try another one. Maybe I didn't put enough of The People's Effort into telling that one.
There was a North Korean couple, both dutiful Communist Party busy-bodies, who had just celebrated their wedding, and were boarding a private Ilyushin
jet, as Party leaders are expected to do. As they settle in, the plane taxies to the end of the private People's Communist runway, and takes off. When the plane is in the air, the husband breaks the silence first.
"You know, dear, there's one thing that bothers me about you, and if I don't tell you know, I'm not sure how we're going to make it." She looks up intently, not sure of where he's going.
"It's your dog," he continues, "That dastardly poodle is a Capitalist throwback to an era of Imperialistic scoundrels, and is too bourgeois for us to have in our family. I insist that you get rid of it at once."
She doesn't hesitate to respond, as is expected of a People's Feminist. "But I couldn't possibly get rid of Porkchop! He's been with me since I graduated from The People's Academy, and I can't imagine life without him."
"Well," her Dear Husband responds, "He's got to go."
She thinks quickly, then retorts, "You know what, you're right. And I'll tell you what—there's something about you
that bothers me, too. It's those confounded cigars! They're the choice of Robber-Barons and Evil Capitalists worldwide, and are the result of years of oppression and the destruction of the Masses."
They had arrived at quite a quandry.
Finally, the Dear Wife had an idea. "I know," she said, "I can solve this." In her best People's Fashion, she stood up, picked up the poodle, put the box of cigars in his mouth, opened the cabin door, and threw them both outside.
Four hours later, when they landed, Dear Wife was overjoyed and somewhat perplexed when she exited the plane, for sitting there on the wing, clinging on for dear life, was Porkchop, with a brick in his mouth.
Thanks to Gateway Pundit
for pointing out the serious side of the story—not that there's anything wrong with a George W. Bush joke once in a while. Of course, that's safe to say in a country that does not
shoot you in the back of the head for telling them, isn't it?
And more importantly, thanks to Harjeet for the dreaded post-modern
joke, which I hope I didn't kill too
badly. All lack of "teh funneh" is certainly Bush's Fault!
... oh wait... I meant my