A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well.
What happens if you play a county song backwards? Your wife returns to you, your dog comes back to life, and you get out of prison.
A Matter of Experience
It was a beautiful day, and at a little fish restaurant a cry suddenly goes up: "My son! My son is choking! Someone help!"
Many of the diners try all kinds of techniques, but none work and the son's face is quickly turning blue. Then a man from a nearby table stands up and says: "Don't worry, I have experience with these kinds of things."
He walks over calmly to the boy, leans down and grabs him hard in the testicles.
He squeezes and a fish bone comes flying out of the mouth of the child. But he is still choking, so the man takes a step back and kicks the boy savagely in the ribs.
Another bone flies out and the child can suddenly breathe. Everyone cheers and claps the man on the back as he slowly walks back to his table and sits down.
"THANK YOU! THANK YOU!" cry the happy mother and father of the boy. "Are you a doctor?"
"No," says the man. "I work for the tax department."
You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull. Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows. You sell them and retire on the income.
The government takes one and gives it to your neighbour.
You have 2 cows. The State takes both and gives you some milk.
You have 2 cows. The State takes both and sells you some milk.
You have two cows. The government takes both and shoots you.
You have 2 cows. The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other and then throws the milk away.
You have two cows. You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, and then execute a debt/equity swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back, with a tax exemption for five cows. The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a Cayman Island company secretly owned by the majority shareholder, who sells the rights to all seven cows back to your listed company. The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one more.
At the end of the tax year, the IRS office sent an inspector to audit the books of a local hospital. While the IRS agent was checking the books he turned to the CFO of the hospital and said, “I notice you buy a lot of bandages. What do you do with the end of the roll when there’s too little left to be of any use?”
”Good question,” noted the CFO. “We save them up and send them back to the bandage company and every now and then they send us a free box of bandages.”
“Oh,” replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer. But on he went, in his obnoxious way.
“What about all these plaster purchases? What do you do with what’s left over after setting a cast on a patient?”
“Ah, yes,” replied the CFO, realizing that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question. “We save it and send it back to the manufacturer, and every now and then they send us a free package of plaster.”
“I see,” replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all CFO. “Well,” he went on, “What do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?”
“Here, too, we don't waste,” answered the CFO.
“What we do is save all the little foreskins and send them to the IRS Office, and about once a year they send us a complete d**k.”
Whitey was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young layers called pullets and eight or ten roosters, whose job was to fertilize the eggs.
Whitey kept records and any rooster that didn't perform went into the soup pot and was replaced.
That took an awful lot of Whitey's time so Whitey got a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters.
Each bell had a different tone so Whitey could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing.
Now he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells.
Whitey's favorite rooster was old Brewster, a very fine specimen he was, too. But on this particular morning, Whitey noticed old Brewster's bell hadn't rung at all!
Whitey went to investigate. The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing. The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover.
BUT, to Whitey's amazement, Brewster had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one.
Whitey was so proud of Brewster, he entered him in the county fair... and Brewster became an overnight sensation among the judges. The result...
The judges not only awarded Brewster the "No Bell Piece Prize" but they also awarded him the "Pulletsurprise" as well.
If I had a dollar for every time I thought of you, I’d be in a higher tax bracket.
A Final Word of Advice
The wise old Mother Superior from County Tipperary was dying.
The nuns gathered around her bed trying to make her comfortable.
They gave her some warm milk to drink, but she refused it. One of the nuns took the glass back to the kitchen.
Remembering a bottle of Irish whiskey received as a gift the previous Christmas, she opened it and poured a generous amount into the warm milk.
Back at Mother Superior's bed, she held the glass to her lips. Mother Superior drank a little, then a little more. Before they knew it, she had drunk the whole glass down to the last drop.
"Mother", the nuns pleaded, "Please give us some wisdom before you die."
She raised herself up in bed with a pious look on her face and said: "Don't sell that cow".
How cold IS IT?
It's so cold THAT...
The rock rattling around in your shoe is your toe.
Lawyers have their hands in their own pockets.
You have to break the smoke off your chimney.
You have to open the fridge to heat the house.
Your false teeth chatter, and they are still in the glass.
Police tell a robber to freeze, and he really does.
Our words froze in midair and we had to put them in a frying pan to thaw them so we hear what we were talking about.
People look forward to getting a fever
Mailmen watch out for both dogs and polar bears
I'm shivering like a mobster in a tax office.
We had to chisel the dog off a lamp-post
Pet stores sell hamsters, gerbils and penguins
Lady Liberty put her torch inside her dress!
Prisoners are begging for the electric chair.
Richard Simmons wearing shorts that come nearly to the half-thigh region.
Roosters are rushing into KFC and begging to use the pressure cooker!
A streaker froze in mid-streak!
I chipped my tooth on my soup.
Dunkin' Donuts is serving coffee on a stick.
The local flasher was seen describing himself to three different women this morning.
We pulled everything out of the freezer and huddled inside to keep warm.
I saw an Amish guy buying an electric blanket.
I actually saw a gangsta pull his pants up.
I'm drinking hot sauce instead of coffee.
Ice cubes are coming out of my faucet.
Trees are chopping themselves into firewood.
Cops are tasing themselves.
I saw a greyhound bus and the dog was riding on the inside.
The ice cubes in my drink have goose bumps.
When all is said and done, I'm really thankful for the HOT FLASHES!
How do crabs evade taxes? They set up shell corporations.
The Volunteers and the Old Fire Truck
A fire started on some grasslands near a farm.
The county fire department was called to put out the fire.
The fire was more than the county fire department could handle.
Someone suggested that a nearby volunteer bunch be called. Despite some doubt that the volunteer outfit would be of any assistance, the call was made. The volunteers arrived in a dilapidated old fire truck. They rumbled straight towards the fire, drove right into the middle of the flames! The firemen jumped off the truck and frantically started spraying water in all directions. Soon they had snuffed out the center of the fire, breaking the blaze into two easily-controlled parts.
Watching all this, the farmer was so impressed with the volunteer fire department's work and was so grateful that his farm had been spared, that right there on the spot he presented the volunteers with a check for $1,000. A local news reporter asked the volunteer fire captain what the department planned to do with the funds.
"That ought to be obvious," he responded, wiping ashes off his coat. "The first thing we're gonna do is get the brakes fixed on our fire truck!"
A man from New York City found himself in a spot of bother after the IRS returned his tax return to him due to an incorrectly-answered question.
One of the questions on his tax return asked him to list his dependents.
A few days later, they received the following response: “12.1 million illegal immigrants, 1.1 million crackheads, 4.4 million unemployed deadbeats, 80,000 criminals in over 85 prisons, at least 450 idiots in Congress and numerous others who call themselves politicians, but are in fact nothing of the sort.”
In a strongly-worded letter accompanying the man’s tax return, the IRS responded: “This answer is completely unacceptable and an insult to this government institution.”
In turn, he replied: “I thought it was quite detailed. Who did I leave out?”
I'd tell you a confidence joke but I'm insecure
I'd tell a war joke but I'm afraid it would bomb
I'd tell an enema joke but you couldn't hold it in
I'd tell a flogger joke but it doesn't have much impact.
I'd tell a bondage joke but it's too restrictive.
I'd tell you an underground railroad joke but you'd run away.
I'd tell a monotone joke but it doesn't have any range
I'd tell a hanging joke but I always choke
\I'd tell you a constipation joke, but it's full of... well, you know.
I'd tell a Wesley Snipes tax joke but it's too evasive
I'd tell a big ass joke but it's too much to grasp
I'd tell an amputee joke but I don't have a leg to stand on
I'd tell a cyber-security joke but you couldn't hack it
I'd tell a joke about a joke but it'd be recursive
I'd tell a pot joke but it's half baked
I'd tell a small penis joke but there's not enough there
I'd tell a gay joke but I'm not sure I could tell it straight
I'd tell a porky pig joke but tha..tha..that's all folks!