Jokes Today

More New Rules

More from Bill Maher's Real Time show (links at bottom):

New Rule: Bluetooth headset users have to do something that lets me know you're just on the phone and not a dangerous schizophrenic. Right? We don't know if you're talking to your secretary or the evil leprechaun who lives in your head. You're not the chief communications officer of the Starship Enterprise. You're a shoe salesman asking your mom if you can bring over your laundry. If I wanted to overhear every tedious scrap of brain static rattling around in your head, I'd read your blog.

New Rule: Powerball Jackpot winners must stop saying they're not sure if they're going to quit their jobs. Of course you're going to quit your job. And I have news for you. Your co-workers want you to quit your job. Nobody wants to be on the pork-processing line next to the unbearable ass in the Gucci smock.

New Rule: Boy George must now be called Man George. Come on! You're no longer a hot British chick. You're Uncle Fester. And, by the way, over the weekend, Boy George got busted for cocaine possession. And now everyone is saying the same thing: "He had money for coke?"

New Rule: If your people are so desperate mannequins make them horny, there's something wrong with your religion. This week, police in Iran confiscated 65 mannequins for being too sexy. Guys, I'm sorry, but it's the mannequins that are supposed to have the sticks up their asses. In the free West, we don't have impure thoughts about inert hunks of tit-shaped plastic. We have Britney Spears.

New Rule: Words printed on a coffee cup will not turn you gay. A Baylor University dining contractor has banned Starbucks cups that have a quote from a gay author. Listen, breeders, you can't get AIDS from a Styrofoam container. And besides, if you're holding a double half-caf, vanilla mocha latte, extra foam sprinkled with nutmeg, you're already gay!

New Rule: If your razor has five blades, it's not a razor, it's a weed-whacker. With the new Gillette Fusion razor, the first blade lifts the stubble; the second severs the hair follicle; the third slices your skin; the fourth scrapes bone marrow; and the fifth was used by O.J. Simpson to kill his wife, and he wants it back.

New Rule: Just because we have an obligation to rebuild New Orleans doesn't mean we have to put it back in the same place. For $200 billion, we could put the French Quarter on the moon. Why don't we put it someplace it can stay out of harm and do some good? After all, New Orleans is the Big Easy, and a lot of America is uptight. Which is why I say we put New Orleans in Kansas.

New Rule: The fortunes in fortune cookies have to be fortunes. "You surround yourself with good friends" is not a prediction. It's a compliment. Quit kissing my ass, cookie! If I'm going to sit through a plate of MSG-laden, twice-cooked kitty-cat, I want a real fortune like, "That meal you just ate is going to give you cancer."

New Rule: There aren't "101 Sex Tricks." In fact, ladies, there is only one. It's called the blowjob. Do it 101 times.

And finally, New Rule: When a woman over 60 has a baby, it's not a miracle from God. It's a miracle from genetic engineers, fertility experts and the good people at Merck. Here in California last week, a 62-year-old woman with 11 children, 20 grandchildren and three great grandchildren, gave birth again. To a 40-year-old man who walked out. At an age when most women are content to putter around the garden or perform the opening number at the Grammys -- Janise Wulf, age 62, told the press at a news conference, "Age is a number. Every time you revolutionize something, there's going to be naysayers." To which the reporters replied, "We're over here!" And, lady, let me tell you something. You're not a revolutionary. You're a vagina with no off switch. Twelve kids? Let me guess. You're either a Catholic or a hamster. Look, I don't want to be the one to say that this lady is too old and she's already had enough children. But, this lady is too old and she's already had enough children! Hey, when you're 62 and you want children, you have two choices: a) in vitro fertilization, or b) luring them into a house made out of candy. But, in vitro fertilization is not for 62-year-old grandmothers. It's for 35-year-old lesbians. I know a little about this subject, because I recently patented a vibrating turkey-baster—ribbed for her enjoyment. And to everybody who came to my last Thanksgiving, I'm very sorry about the mix-up.

Bill Maher's New Rules book:

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