Aviation Jokes — most commented jokes

They now have an Italian airline that flies out of Genoa.

It's called Genitalia.

A man goes skydiving for the first time. After listening to the instructor for what seems like days, he is ready to go. Excited, he jumps out of the airplane.
About five seconds later, he pulls the ripcord. Nothing happens. He tries again.
Still nothing. He starts to panic, but remembers his back-up chute. He pulls that cord. Nothing happens. He frantically begins pulling both cords, but to no avail.

Suddenly, he looks down and he can't believe his eyes. Another man is in the air with him, but this guy is going up! Just as the other guy passes by, the skydiver - by this time scared out of his wits - yells, "Hey, do you know anything about skydiving?"

The other guy yells back, "Fuck no! Do you know anything about lighting gas stoves?"

When a plane caught fire over the jungle the pilot ejected and landed in a cannibal's pot. The cannibal turned to his friend and said, 'What's this flier doing in my soup?'

Parachute Jumping by Hugo Furst

How can you steal the window seat of a blonde on a plane going to London?
→ Tell her the seats that are going to London are all in the middle row.

A blonde was going on a plane trip to New York.

When the attendant came by and asked for her ticket, she told the blonde, "I'm sorry. Your ticket isn't for first class. Could you please move to your seat." The blonde replied, "Im blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to New York." The attendant said, "That's fine miss, but you'll have to go to your seat." The blonde responded again, "I'm blonde, I'm beautiful, and I'm going to New York."

This conversation continued, always with the blonde's same response.

The attendant got so upset that she went to the captain and told him about the blonde. The captain went and whispered something in the blonde's ear and the blonde immeadiately got up and went to her seat in coach.

The attendant asked the captain how he got the stubborn blonde to move.

He said, "I just told her that this part of the plane wasn't going to New York."

One day at a busy airport, the passengers on a commercial airliner are seated waiting for the pilot to show up so they can get under way.

The pilot and copilot finally appear in the rear of the plane and begin walking up to the cockpit through the center aisle. Both appear to be blind; the pilot is using a white cane, bumping into passengers right and left as he stumbles down the aisle. The copilot is using a guide dog. Both have their eyes covered with sunglasses.

At first, the passengers do not react thinking that it must be some sort of practical joke. After a few minutes though, the engines start revving, and the airplane begins moving down the runway.

The passengers look at each other with some uneasiness. They start whispering among themselves and look desperately to the stewardesses for reassurance.

Yet, the plane starts accelerating rapidly, and people begin panicking. Some passengers are praying, and as the plane gets closer and closer to the end of the runway, the voices are becoming more and more hysterical.

When the plane has less than twenty feet of runway left, there is a sudden change in the pitch of the shouts as everyone screams at once. At the very last moment, the plane lifts off and is airborne.

Up in the cockpit, the copilot breathes a sigh of relief and tells the pilot: "You know, one of these days the passengers aren't going to scream, and we aren't going to know when to take off!"

"Look at that speed!" said one hawk to another as the jet fighter plane hurtled over their heads.
"Hmph!" snorted the other. "You would fly fast too if your tail was on fire!"

"I've never flown before," said the nervous old lady to the pilot. "You will bring me down safely, won't you?"
"All I can say ma'am," said the pilot, "is that I've never left anyone up there yet!"

After an overnight flight to meet my father at his latest military assignment, my mother wearily arrived at Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany with my eight siblings and me -- all under age 11.
Collecting our many suitcases, the ten of us entered the cramped customs area. A young customs official watched our entourage in disbelief, "Ma'am," he said, "do all these children and this luggage belong to you?"

"Yes, sir," my mother said with a sigh, "they're all mine."

The customs agent began his interrogation: "Ma'am, do you have any weapons, contraband or illegal drugs in your possession?"

"Sir," she calmly answered, "if I'd had any of those items, I would have used them by now."