Poor Bastard's Gazette Joke of The Week...

The Poor Bastard Joke of The Week entry for January 14, 2012 is actually a series of jokes sent in by an anonymous Old-Time Poor Bastard from right here in the Poor Bastard Heaven known as Portland, OR to most of The Kingdom....and known to local Poor Bastards as Stump-town!


Poor Bastard Advertising-

 

A True Poor Bastard's Lament-

A Domesticated Poor Bastard calls 911 and says:

"I think my wife is dead."

The 911 operator asks: 

"How do you know?"

The Poor Bastard replies: 

"The sex is about the same, but the ironing is piling up!"

In Memory of Ultimate Poor Bastard Rodney Dangerfield -

 

A Poor Bastard's wife has been missing a week now.

The police tell him to prepare for the worst.

So, he goes down to Goodwill to get all of her clothes back.

 And Finally Another Texas-Style Poor Bastard-

A drunken Poor Bastard lay sprawled across three entire seats in the posh Amarillo Theater. When the usher came by and noticed him, he whispered to the patron, 'Sorry, sir, but you're only allowed one seat.'

The semi-coherent Poor Bastard groaned but didn't budge. The usher became more impatient: 'Sir, if you don't get up from there I'm going to have to call the manager.'

Once again, the Poor Bastard just groaned. The usher marched briskly back up the aisle, and in a moment he returned with the manager. Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the comatose Poor Bastard, but with no success.

Finally they summoned the police. The Texas Ranger surveyed the situation briefly then asked, 'All right you Poor Bastard, what's your name?'

'Jerry,' the Poor Bastard moaned.

'Where ya from, Jerry?' asked the Ranger.

...With a terrible pained tone in his voice, and without moving a muscle, the Poor Bastard replied,

'...The balcony...'