Okay, I’ve only looked through the
past six pages, so forgive me if any of these have already been posted:
Jack dies and is waiting at the Pearly Gates for St. Peter to let him into Heaven. St. Peter is busy doing some paperwork. While waiting, Jack looks through the Gates, and sees a long hallway, with several doors lining both sides. After a minute, a man in a white coat comes out of one door and hastily walks through a door on the other side of the hall. A few minutes later, the same man comes out and enters a different door. This process continues for several minutes. Jack, wondering what’s going on whispers to St. Peter, “Excuse me, who is that man in the white coat who keeps going up and down the hallway?” St. Peter looks up from his work, with an embarrassed expression on his face

, and says, “That’s just God. Sometimes he likes to pretend He’s a doctor.”
A man was walking down an alleyway in Northern Ireland, when he hears the click of a hammer being drawn back and feels the muzzle of a gun in his back. “Catholic of Protestant,” hissed the man behind him.

Thinking quickly, he responds, “Jewish!” “Well,” says his assailant, “ain’t I just the luckiest Muslim in all Ireland?”
Jack and Dave were drinking in a bar, when Dave says to Jack, let me show you something. He opens a large box, and out steps a man, only one-foot tall, dressed in a black tuxedo, with tails, no less. The little man walks over to the piano, bows to the crowd, climbs up on the bench and proceeds to play a number of beautiful sonatas. When he’s done, after another bow, Jack claps



, and says to Dave, “That’s fantastic! Where did you get him?” “Well,” says Jack, I was on the beach last week, when I found an old lamp washed up in the surf. As I was rubbing the sand off, smoke began to pour out of the lamp, and a genie appeared.

He told me, ‘For freeing me from the lamp, I will grant you one wish.’” “And?!” asks Dave. “He must have thought I asked for a twelve-inch pianist.”
Upon the death of his sea-faring brother, a minister inherited a talking parrot. However, it wasn’t long before he learned that the parrot talked a blue-streak:

“Polly wants a @$#%ing cracker!” it would screech, whenever hungry.
![Pimp [pimp] [pimp]](/images/smilies/pimp.gif)
“Show us your +!+$!” it squawked, whenever a woman walked by. And others, too crude to even allude to, here. The minister tried all he could to clean up the bird’s language. He read to it from the psalms

– “@#$#@,” said the parrot; he preached sermons

– “$h!+4brains!” the bird squawked; he prayed

- "@$$#^*r". When the bird saw the framed picture of the minister’s dearly-departed mother, and began opining on the deceased’s sexual preferences and practices, the minister could stand it no longer!
![Pissed [pissed] [pissed]](/images/smilies/pissed.gif)
He grabbed the foul-mouthed bird, thrust it into the freezer, and slammed the door. For a few seconds, furious squawks came from the freezer, when suddenly, all was quiet. Not sure what to think, the minister waited another minute before opening the freezer door.

The parrot stepped carefully out of the freezer, bowed to the minister, and chirped, “I wish to apologize for my language, and promise I shall do all I can to mend my ways.” “Well,” said the minister, “that will be a pleasant change.” “If you don’t mind me asking,” said the parrot, “what did the chicken do?”
Jack and Cindy had fallen on hard times. After much discussion, the decided the only way to make ends meet would be for Cindy to take up “the oldest profession in the world.” Cindy went out for her first night and “worked” from dusk til dawn. When she came home, Jack asked what her take had been. “$6.25,” said Cindy. “$6.25? Who gave you a quarter?” asked Jack. “Why, all of them, dear.”
EDIT: No Swedes or Norwegians were injured in any of these jokes.