Politics Jokes

Spend more quality time with Chelsea and her 13 half brothers and sisters.

Tour the nations’ prisons to improve conditions. Visit friends while there.

Write book: “The American Presidency: An Oral History.”

Search for a new outlet for well-developed lying and cheating skills.

Catch up on eight-year stack of “Penthouse.”

Continue work counseling interns.

Get to know those Bush girls better.

Father Ralf was the new initiate at St. Clures. The old priest, Father Patrick, was getting worn out by confessional and wanted a game of golf. He had put up a big sign to guide Father Ralf:
“Do it yourself confessional - Spitting=1 Hail Mary; lying=2 Hail Marys” and so on.

He said to father Ralf, “I’m off to golf now, you look after confession - just follow the chart & everything will be fine.”

Ralf had a quiet morning until he was interrupted by a young female voice. “Please father, I’ve committed a mortal sin!”

“What have you done?” he said.

“I gave a man a blow job,” she said.

He looked at the chart. NO BLOW JOB. He racked his brains. What the deuce was a blow job? What could he do? Just then a queue of alter boys started walking thru the church.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Can you help me? I need to know what Father Patrick gives for a blow job.”

Deathly silence, then a small voice from the back: “Two Mars bars and a can of coke.”

In an attempt to flee the hard life in their homeland, a group of twenty Cubans secretly left Cuba on a small boat and set sail for Miami. Along the way, the oldest Cuban suffered a serious heart attack. As he lay gasping for breath, the old man made this request to his fellow Cubans, “Please, my friends, I wish to hold in my hands the flag of my beloved Cuba and kiss it before I breathe my last.”

So the rest of the Cubans went frantically searching for anything that had a Cuban flag on it. Since they brought along only their meager belongings, the search seemed to be fruitless until a young woman in her early twenties volunteered, “I had a Cuban flag tattooed on my butt.”

She was quickly escorted to the dying old man. Turning her back to the old man, the young woman pulled down her skirt then her panties exposing the Cuban flag tattooed on her butt cheek. When she placed her butt closer to the old man’s face, the old man grabbed her buttocks with both hands and started caressing her buttocks lovingly and tenderly. Then he started kissing the tattoo on her butt with much passion.

After much caressing and kissing went on for fifteen or so minutes, the old man abruptly stopped kissing and said to the young woman, “Thank you so much, chica. You have made this old man very very happy. But I have one last wish. Be kind enough as to turn around so I can also kiss Fidel Castro goodbye.”

I did not do it in a car

I did not do it in a bar

I did not do it in the dark

I did not do it in the park

I did not do it on a date

I did not ever fornicate

I did not do it at a dance

I did not do it in her pants

I did not get beyond first base

I did not do it in her face

I never did it in a bed

If you think that, you’ve been misled

I did not do it with a groan

I did not do it on the phone

I did not cause her dress to stain

I never boinked Saddam Hussein

I did not do it with a whip

I never fondled Linda Tripp

I never acted really silly

With volunteers like Kathleen Willey

There was one time, with Margaret Thatcher

I chased her ’round, but couldn’t catch her

No kinky stuff, not on your life

I wouldn’t, even with my wife

And Gennifer Flowers’ tale of woes

Was paid for by my right-wing foes

And Paula Jones, and those State Troopers

Are just a bunch of party poopers

I did not ask my friends to lie

I did not hang them out to dry

I did not do it last November

But if I did, I don’t remember

I did not do it in the hall

I could have, but I don’t recall

I never did it in my study

I never did it with my dog, Buddy

I never did it to Sox, the cat

I might have-once-with Arafat

I never did it in a hurry

I never groped Ms. Betty Currie

There was no sex at Arlington

There was no sex on Air Force One

I might have copped a little feel

And then endeavored to conceal

But never did these things so lewd

At least, not ever in the nude

These things to which I have confessed

They do not count, if we stayed dressed

It never happened with a cigar

I never dated Mrs. Starr

I did not know this little sin

Would be retold on CNN

I broke some rules my Mama taught me

I tried to hide, but now you’ve caught me

But I implore, I do beseech

Do not condemn, do not impeach

I might have got a little tail

But never, never did I inhale.

Billionaire H. Ross Perot once commented on the “intelligence level” of Vice President Dan Quayle:

“If you removed his brain from his head and tried to balance it on the edge of a razor blade, it would be equivalent to rolling a BB down the middle of an eight-lane divided highway.”