Found this joke in my inbox this morning. As with many of these jokes, it gets reworked with each new occupant of the White House. In the past, I’ve seen versions with both Bush and Clinton. Enjoy.
Obama goes on a State visit to Israel. While he is on a tour of Jerusalem, he has a fatal heart attack.
The undertaker tells the U.S. diplomats: “You can have him shipped home for $1 million or you can bury him here in the Holy Land for $100”.
The U.S. diplomats go into a huddle and come back to the undertaker and tell him they still want Obama flown home.
The undertaker is puzzled and asks: “Why would you spend $1 million to get him home when it would be wonderful to be buried here in this religious country and you would only spend $100?”.
One diplomat replied: “More than 2000 years ago a man died here, was buried here, and just 3 days later he rose from the dead. We simply can’t take that risk”.
This joke, and its morbid theme, led to me to peruse my archives and I found these two gems about Bill Clinton.
One day Bill Clinton slipped away from the Secret Service and was out jogging. He accidentally tripped and fell off a bridge into the cold water below.
Three 10-year-old boys were playing along the river and saw him fall in so they all jumped in and saved him and dragged him to shore. He was so thankful that he told each of them, “Boys, you just saved the President of the United States and each of you deserve a reward.”
The first boy says, “I want to go to Disneyland!”
“I’ll take you there myself!!!” exclaims Bill.
The second boy says, “I want a brand new pair of autographed Air Jordan’s.
“I’ll buy them for you myself,” says Bill.
The third boy says “I want a motorized wheelchair with a stereo built into it with custom speakers.”
The president looks at the boy and says, “But son you don’t look like you are handicapped to me”
The boy says, “I’m going to be when my dad finds out I saved your ass from drowning!!”
And here’s the second one.
Air Force One crashed on a farm in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken, the Secret Service mobilized and descended in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed, with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm.
The Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk, but could find no remains of the crew or the President’s staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man’s tractor.
“Sir,” the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath, “Did you see this terrible accident happen?”
Yep. Sure did.” The man muttered, unconcernedly.
“Do you realize that is the President of the United States airplane?”
“Were there any survivors?” the agent gasped.
“Nope. They’s all kilt straight out.” The farmer sighed, cutting off his tractor motor. “I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning.”
“The President of the United States is DEAD?” The agent gulped in disbelief.
“Well,” the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work, “He kept a-saying he wasn’t … but you know what a liar he is.”