Daily Joke: Jokes Library

The little girl was a perfectly ordinary four-year-old adorable, endlessly curious, and as bright and shiny as a brand-new penny. Like many children her age, she was full of questions about the world around her, and one topic in particular had her puzzled: marriage. No matter how simply it was explained, the idea just didn’t quite click for her.

Sensing her confusion, her father decided to try a different approach. He retrieved their wedding photo album from the shelf, convinced that seeing the story unfold in pictures would make everything clearer. Sitting beside her, he slowly flipped through the pages, carefully narrating each moment. He pointed out the bride arriving at the church, the walk down the aisle, the solemn ceremony, the joyful recessional, and finally the lively celebration at the reception that followed.

After turning the last page, he looked at his daughter with a hopeful smile and asked, “So… do you understand now?”

She studied the pictures thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. “I think I do,” she said. After a brief pause, she added innocently, “That was when Mommy came to work for us?”

A duck waddles into a small convenience store one afternoon, strolls right up to the counter, and politely asks the clerk, “Excuse me, do you have any grapes?”

The clerk blinks, confused. “No… we don’t sell grapes here.”
The duck nods calmly and waddles out.

The next day, right around the same time, the duck comes back. He walks straight to the counter and asks again, “Do you have any grapes?”
Now the clerk is a little annoyed. “No, we still don’t have grapes.”
The duck shrugs and leaves without another word.

On the third day, the duck returns yet again. Same routine. Same question.
“Do you have any grapes?”

This time the clerk snaps. “That’s it! You’ve come in here three days in a row asking for grapes, and every single time I’ve told you we don’t sell grapes! We’re a convenience store, not a fruit market! If you come back in here again and ask me for grapes, I swear I’ll nail your webbed feet to the floor!”

The duck slowly nods, turns around, and waddles out.

The following day, the duck walks back into the store as if nothing ever happened. He approaches the counter and asks, “Do you have any nails?”

The clerk frowns. “No… we don’t sell nails either.”

The duck smiles and says, “Great. Got any grapes?”

After wrapping up a long day at the Great Britain Beer Festival in London, a group of brewery presidents decided to unwind together at a cozy pub nearby. The atmosphere was lively, the room still buzzing with conversations about hops, flavors, and friendly competition. They found a table, settled in, and one by one began placing their drink orders.

The president from Corona leaned back in his chair, flashed a confident smile at the bartender, and said, “Señor, I would like the world’s best beer — a Corona.” The bartender nodded knowingly, reached up to the shelf, carefully dusted off a chilled bottle, and slid it across the bar to him.

Next up was the Budweiser president. Straightening his tie with pride, he announced, “I’ll have the best beer in the world — the King of Beers. Bring me a Budweiser.” The bartender gave a respectful nod and quickly placed a bottle in front of him.

Not to be outdone, the Coors president chimed in. “I’d like the only beer made with pure Rocky Mountain spring water. Give me a Coors.” Moments later, his request was fulfilled and the table was now lined with famous brews.

Finally, the president of Guinness took his seat. He glanced at the bartender and calmly said, “I’ll have a Coke, please.”

The bartender paused for a moment, surprised, but shrugged and handed him the soda. The other brewery presidents stared at him in confusion.

“Wait,” they asked, “why aren’t you drinking a Guinness?”

The Guinness president took a sip of his Coke, smiled politely, and replied, “Well, I figured if you gentlemen aren’t drinking beer, then neither will I.”

Three boys were standing around in the schoolyard during recess, bragging about how impressive their fathers were and how much money they made.

The first boy puffed up his chest and said proudly, “My dad is a poet. He just scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, calls it a poem, and people pay him fifty dollars for it.”

The second boy smirked and shook his head. “That’s nothing,” he replied. “My dad writes songs. He scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, calls it a song, and people give him a hundred dollars.”

The third boy crossed his arms and grinned. “You guys don’t even come close. My dad scribbles a few words on a piece of paper, calls it a sermon… and it takes eight people just to collect all the money afterward.”