Two bees ran into each other & one asked the other how things were going.
“Really bad,” said the second bee, “the weather has been really wet & damp & there aren’t any flowers or pollen, so I can’t make any honey.”
“No problem,” said the first bee, “Just fly down five blocks & turn left and keep going until you see all the cars. There’s a Bar Mitzvah going on and there are all kinds of fresh flowers & fresh fruit.”
“Thanks for the tip” said the second bee & flew away.
A few hours later the two bees ran into each other again & the first bee asked, “How’d it go?”
“Fine,” said the second bee, “It was everything you said it would be.”
“Uh, what’s that thing on your head?” asked the first bee.
“That’s my yarmulke,” said the second bee. “I didn’t want them to think I was a wasp.”
Henry Cohen’s parents were not happy that he was not married by the age of 30, and they kept telling him so. He wanted to please his parents, but couldn’t meet a nice girl. In desperation, he married a goyish prostitute.
His new wife’s friends worried because she had stopped showing up at her regular streetcorner, but one evening she appeared, in new clothing and fancy jewelry. Naturally, the friends were curious, and she told them how she had married a nice Jewish boy.
“What about his parents?” they asked.
She answered, “They love me. After Henry told them about us, they had a party every evening for a week. They call it shiva.”