Food Jokes — most viewed jokes

What did the Buddhist ask the pizza maker?
→ "Make me one with everything."

Tom was so excited about his promotion to Vice President of the company he worked for and kept bragging about it to his wife for weeks on end. Finally she couldn't take it any longer, and told him, "Listen, it means nothing, they even have a vice president of peas at the grocery store!"

"Really?" he said. Not sure if this was true or not, Tom decided to call the grocery store. A clerk answers and Tom says "Can I please talk to the Vice President of peas?" The clerk replies "Canned or frozen?"

Who loves hamburgers, French fries, and ants?
→ Ronald MacAardvark!

From Reuters News Service:

Canada's Ottawa Citizen newspaper recently printed a recipe for Chanterelle Lemon Pasta in its food section, calling for one cup of Chanterelle mushrooms. They even provided a helpful photograph so amateur mushroom hounds could find their own growing in the wild. Unfortunately, the photograph instead showed Destroying Angels, which are deadly when eaten.

According to the Knight-Ridder News Service, the inscription on the metal bands used by the U.S. Department of the Interior to tag migratory birds has been changed. The bands used to bear the address of the Washington Biological Survey, abbreviated, "Wash. Biol. Surv." until the agency received the following letter from an Arkansas camper: "Dear Sirs: While camping last week I shot one of your birds. I think it was a crow. I followed the cooking instructions on the leg tag and I want to tell you it was horrible."

- First apple: You look down in the dumps. What's eating you?

- Second apple: Worms, I think.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care in hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash tore open the icebox then threw up the sash. The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear: a marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS a Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall now dash away pounds now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress my clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly they shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I spoke not a word but went straight to my work ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned. I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry if temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night in the morning I'll starve . . . 'til I take that first bite.

How do you make a hot dog stand?
→ Steal its chair.

- Tom: What did the banana say to the elephant?

- Nick: I don't know.

- Tom: Nothing. Bananas can't talk.

Yo mamma is so ugly, she made an onion cry.