Politician Jokes


A bus load of politicians were driving down a country road when all of a sudden the bus ran off the road and crashed into a tree in an old farmer's field. The old farmer after seeing what happened went over to investigate. He then proceeded to dig a hole and bury the politicians.

A few days later, the local sheriff came out, saw the crashed bus, and then asked the old farmer, "Were they all dead?"

The old farmer replied, "Well, some of them said they weren't, but you know how them politicians lie."
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Late one night in the capitol city a mugger wearing a ski mask jumped into the path of a well-dressed man and stuck a gun in his ribs.

 

"Give me your money!" he demanded.

 

Indignant, the affluent man replied, "You can't do this - I'm a U.S. Congressman!"

 

"In that case," replied the robber, "give me MY money!"

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A push poller calls a voter that really, really HATES the candidate. The voter goes into a five minute rant ending with: "And if your guy gets elected I don't know whether I will kill myself, or leave the country!" The poller says: "OK, I will put you down as 'undecided.'"

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A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed, life-sized bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner what it costs.

 

"Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and a thousand dollars more for the story behind it."

 

"You can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the rat."

 

The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer drain, more rats come out and follow him.

 

By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars. Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill, he panics and starts to run full tilt.

 

No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously, now not just thousands but millions, so that by the time he comes rushing up to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve city blocks long is behind him.

 

Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a light post, grasping it with one arm while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay with the other, as far as he can heave it. Pulling his legs up and clinging to the light post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown.

 

Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop.

 

"Ah, so you've come back for the story," says the owner.

 

"No," says the tourist, "I was wondering if you have a bronze politician."

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