Not properly a joke, but one of the funniest stories I have ever witnessed.
It was the late 70's. I was living in the student ghetto on the top floor of an old three story house in Lawrence, Kansas. The old house had been su-divided into apartments. I was very poor, and had purchased a forty pound bag of soy beans as a staple. I would soak and boil the beans. At the time of these events I hand chopped them up some after cooking, I never cooked them enough to make them soft, and made burritos. My little brother, 15 years old, I would guess, and a friend and I ate the burritos.
My brother wanted to try drinking beer, so we did. He drank most of a six-pack of micky's big mouths, and after a late night, we went to sleep. He was sleeping close by on the floor in a sleeping bag.
Fairly early in the morning, something woke me up. My brother was, still relatively comotose, vomiting on the short, worn out carpet. I got him up and my buddy and I got him into the bathroom to finish what needed doing.
My buddy and I went back into the bedroom and took stock. The soy beans were fairly solid and peeble-sized, and had not spread out much. It didn't smell good. I went into the kitchen and found a spatula. Pressing firmly down on the rug, I made a scoop and got about half of the, ah, material and dropped it out the window. It fell the three stories into some bushes with a pattering noise. Great. Pretty efficient. I went back and got about half of what was left and dropped it out the window. Same sound, and then the sound of something bigger moving in the bushes. We looked out the window.
The people on one side of the first floor had a german shepard, and there it was. It was a couple of feet back from the bushes, and looking up at me. There was partly digested soy bean burrito on its head. It watched me for a moment, so that I was not immediatly doing anything important, nosed back into the bushes and resumed eating the part of the partly digested soy bean burritos that had made it to the ground. Horribly funny at the time, I was only 18 and in the company of another who was also rolling on the floor. After regaining some of my composure, trying to further capitalize on what was already an interesting morning, I scooped up what remained of the burritos, and dropped them out the window. Bulls eye.
More rolling on the floor.
Now I know this is only text we are using to communicate with here, so you will have to use some imagination to imbue the sound of the voice with emphasis appropriate to the situation.
About three minutes later, we hear the sound of the front door of the old house open, and then from down stairs we hear a voice, "Oh my god! Where the hell have you been?"
