Jewish Humor 3

It's Erev Rosh HaShanah, and services are about to begin. The synagogue is packed. As the congregants mill around shmoozing before services, everyone seems to be distracted by a man who has brought with him a rather large dog. "What chutzpah!" an elderly woman whispers aloud.

The next morning, the man and his dog arrive early and promptly begin dovening. This time, the dog is wearing its own little tallis and yarmulke, and even appears, upon closer inspection, to be shuckling back and forth as the chazzan intones the prayers. The congregation is amazed.

The week goes by and Kol Nidre arrives. The solemn worship service begins. The man and his dog are back, and this time, just as the chazzan is about to begin the prayers, the dog stands up on its hind legs and howls "Ba-ROOOOOOOCH....!" more melodically than the best chazzan.

After the service, everyone clamors to meet the man and his remarkable dog. Finally the rabbi comes up to him and says, "That's one talented pooch you have there. You know, you should really consider sending your dog to a yeshiva!"

The man looks down, shakes his head, and says, "I know, I know.... And all he talks about is med school!"

Oy! My father, of blessed memory, would have loved the next one. Some traditions continue.

"Mrs. Cohen, why India? It's filthy, much hotter than New York, it's filled to the brim with Indians."

"But it's a long journey, and those trains, how will you manage? What will you eat? The food is too hot and spicy for you. You can't drink the water. You must not eat fresh fruit and vegetables. You'll get sick: the plague, hepatitis, cholera, typhoid, malaria, G-d only knows. What will you do? Can you imagine the hospital, no Jewish doctors? Why torture yourself?"

The necessary arrangements are made, and off she goes. She arrives in India and, undeterred by the noise, smell and crowds, makes her way to an ashram. There she joins the seemingly never- ending queue of people waiting for an audience with the guru. An aide tells her that it will take at least three days of standing in line to see the guru.

Eventually she reaches the hallowed portals. There she is told firmly that she can only say three words.

She is ushered into the inner sanctum where the wise guru is seated, ready to bestow spiritual blessings upon eager initiates. Just before she reaches the holy of holies she is once again reminded: "Remember, just three words."

Unlike the other devotees, she does not prostate at his feet. She stands directly in front of him, crosses her arms over her chest, fixes her gaze on his, and says: "Sheldon, come home!"

About a century or two ago, the Pope decided that all the Jews had to leave Rome. Naturally there was a big uproar from the Jewish community. So the Pope made a deal. He would have a religious debate with a member of the Jewish community. If the Jew won, the Jews could stay. If the Pope won, the Jews would leave.

Having no choice, the Jews picked a middle aged man named Moishe to represent them. Moishe asked for one addition to the debate. To make it more interesting, neither side would be allowed to talk. The pope agreed.

The day of the great debate came. Moishe and the Pope sat opposite each other for a full minute before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers. Moishe looked back at him and raised one finger. The Pope waved his fingers in a circle around his head. Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat. The Pope pulled out a wafer and a glass of wine. Moishe pulled out an apple. The Pope stood up and said, "I give up. This man is too good. The Jews can stay."

An hour later, the cardinals were all around the Pope asking him what happened. The Pope said: "First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity. He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one God common to both our religions. Then I waved my finger around me to show him that God was all around us. He responded by pointing to the ground and showing that god was also right here with us. I pulled out the wine and the wafer to show that god absolves us from our sins. He pulled out an apple to remind me of original sin. He had an answer for everything. What could I do?"

Meanwhile, the Jewish community had crowded around Moishe. "What happened?" they asked.

"Well," said Moishe, "First he said to me that the Jews had three days to get out of here. I told him that not one of us was leaving. Then he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Jews. I let him know that we were staying right here."

The Rabbi's Lucky Hat

A Rabbi is walking slowly out of a Shul in New York when a gust of wind blows his hat down the street. He's old, requires a cane to walk and can't move fast enough to catch his hat. Across the street another man sees what happened and rushes over to grab the hat and return it to the Rabbi. "I don't think I would have been able to catch my hat." the Rabbi says. "Thank you very much." The Rabbi places his hand on the man's shoulder and says, "May G-d bless you."

The young man thinks to himself, "I've been blessed by the Rabbi, this must be my lucky day!" So he goes to the Racetrack and in the first race he sees there is a horse named Stetson at 20 to 1. He bets $50 and sure enough the horse comes in first. In the second race he sees a horse named Fedora at 30 to 1 so he bets it all and this horse comes in first also.

Finally at the end of the day he returns home to his wife who asks him where he's been. He explains how he caught the Rabbis hat and was blessed by him and the went to the track and started winning on horses that had a hat in their names. "So where's the money," she says?

"I lost it all in the ninth race. I bet on a horse named Chateau and it lost."

"You fool, Chateau is a house, Chapeau is a hat."

"It doesn't matter," he said, "the winner was some Japanese horse named Yarmuka."

I've never met a Yid that didn't have great reverence for the Western Wall...yet

A journalist assigned to the Jerusalem bureau takes an apartment overlooking the Western Wall. Every day when she looks out, she sees an old Jewish man praying vigorously. So the journalist goes down to the wall and introduces herself to the old man. She asks, "You come every day to the wall. How long have you done that and what are you praying for?"

The old man replies, "I have come here to pray every day for 25 years. In the morning I pray for world peace and then for the
brotherhood of man. I go home have a cup of tea, and I come back and pray for the eradication of illness and disease from the earth."

The amazed journalist finally asks, "How does it make you feel to come here every day for 25 years and pray for these things? "The old man replies calmly, "Like I'm talking to a wall."

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