A grasshopper jumped into a bar and the bartender said, “What will it be?”

And the grasshopper kept jumping here there and everywhere.

“Look,” said the bartender, “how can I serve you if you’re gonna jump around?”

The grasshopper kept jumping, and jumped out of the bar.


“Why did the grasshopper walk across the road?”


“It was tired of jumping.”


“Why do grasshoppers spit?”

“I dunno.”

“No manners.”


“Knock.  Knock.”

“Whos there?”


“John who?”

“John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.”

“Your name is my name too, but do you mind leaving?”


“The jokes are supposed to be about grasshoppers.”

“Oh, sorry.”


“How many grasshoppers does it take to change a light bulb?”

“How many?”

“Four.  One to change the bulb and the other three to stand around to fill out the joke.”



“What’s the difference between grasshoppers and grassshoppers?”


Grassshoppers have an extra ‘s’ and carry a credit card.”


“How come you never see vampire grasshoppers?”

“I’ll bite, how come you never vampire grasshoppers?”

“They have no place to stay.  No one makes coffins that small.”


A grasshopper walked into a bar and the bartender said, “Oh, you walked in this time.  Does this mean that you’re gonna sit still instead of jumping around like a PMS mood swing?”

“Yes,” said the grasshopper as it sat down at the bar.

“Good,” said the bartender.  “What will it be?”

And the grasshopper said, “I’ll have—

But at that point, we are not sure whether someone sprayed an insecticide or the funny bone guy ran out of ideas.

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I am Minnie and Chic's son.

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