‘Good, you should let her borrow our checkbook,’ she replied.

She was shocked to see her daughter-in-law on the couch, totally naked.
Soft music was playing, and the aroma of perfume filled the room.
What was a nice Jewish girl like her doing lounging around naked?? she thought….
“What are you doing?“ she asked.
“I‘m waiting for my husband to come home from work“ the daughter-in-law said.
“But you‘re naked!“ the mother-in-law exclaimed.
“This is my love dress“ the daughter-in-law explained.
“Love dress? But you‘re naked!“
“My husband loves me to wear this dress“ she explained. “It excites him no end.
Every time he sees me in this dress, he instantly becomes romantic and ravages me for hours. He can‘t get enough of me“

The mother-in-law left. When she got home, she undressed, showered, put on a romantic CD, and laid on the couch waiting for her husband to
arrive. Finally her husband came home. He walked in and saw her laying there so provocatively.
“What are you doing?“ he asked.
“This is my love dress,“ she whispered, sensually.

“Needs ironing,“ he said. “What‘s for dinner?“

The next morning he appears before the local magistrate.

“Sir, you have been arrested for trespassing. Didn‘t you read the sign? It says, ‘Private Lake. No swimming allowed.‘“

The Yid wouldn‘t hear of it. “Meester, you read de sign your vay and I read it my vay.“

The sheriff was surprised. “Your way? How do you read the sign?“

The Jew answered. “It says: Private lake? Nooooo! Svimming allowed!“

“Born a Jew — Raised a Jew — Now a Catholic.”

The Catholics are ecstatic. No more delicious, but maddening smells every Friday evening. But the next Friday evening, the scent of barbecue wafts through the neighborhood. The Catholics all rush to the Jew’s house to remind him of his new diet.

They see him standing over the cooking steak. He is sprinkling water on the meat and saying:

“Born a cow — Raised a cow — Now a fish.”

He tells the saleslady, “I would like a Jewish bra for my wife size, 34B.”
With a quizzical look the saleslady asked, “What kind of bra?”

He repeated, “A Jewish bra. She said to tell you that she wanted a Jewish bra, and that you would know what she wanted.”

“Ah, now I remember,” said the saleslady. “We don’t get as many requests for those as we used to. Most of our customers lately want the Catholic bra, or the Salvation Army bra, or the Presbyterian bra.”

Confused, and a little flustered, the man asked “So, what are the differences?”

The sales lady responded. “It is all really quite simple. The Catholic bra supports the masses. The Salvation Army lifts up the fallen, and the Presbyterian bra keeps them staunch and upright.”

He mused on that information for a minute and said, “Hmm. I know I’ll regret asking, but what does the Jewish bra do?”

“Ah, the Jewish bra,” she replied “makes mountains out of molehills.”

A Few Hood Mentches

The Cohenheads

The Rocky Hora Picture Show

Shalom Alone

Goyz ‘N The Hood

A Gefilte Fish Called Wanda

The Wizard Of Oys

Who Framed Roger Rabbi?

Prelude To A Briss

The grandma holds her hands to the sky, screams and cries: “Lord, my God, how could you?

Haven’t I been a wonderful grandmother?
Haven’t I been a wonderful mother?
Haven’t I kept a kosher home?
Haven’t I given to charity?
Haven’t I lit candles every Friday night?
Haven’t I tried my very best to live a life that
you would be proud of?

A voice booms from the sky, “All right already!”

A moment later another huge wave appears out of nowhere and crashes on the beach. As the water recedes, the boy is standing there. He is smiling and splashing around as if nothing had ever happened.

The voice booms again. “I have returned your grandson. Are you satisfied?”

She responds, “He had a hat.”

You spent your entire childhood thinking that everyone calls roast beef “brisket”.

Your family dog responds to complaints uttered in Yiddish.

Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents.

You’ve experienced the phenomena of 50 people fitting into a 10 foot wide dining room hitting each other with plastic plates trying to get to a deli tray.

You thought pasta was the stuff used exclusively for kugel and kasha and bowties.

You watched Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan every Sunday night.

You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.

You never knew anyone who’s last name didn’t end in one of 5 standard suffixes.

You thought all women’s breasts were at least a C cup.

You were surprised to find out that wine doesn’t always taste like year-old cranberry sauce.

You can look at gefilte fish and not turn green.

You think the goyim are out to get you.

Your mother smacked you really hard and continues to make you feel bad for hurting her hand.

You can understand Yiddish but you can’t speak it.

You know how to pronounce numerous Yiddish words and use them correctly in context, yet you don’t exactly know what they mean.

You have at least one ancestor who is related to your spouse’s ancestor.

You grew up thinking it’s normal for someone to shout “are you okay? Are you okay?” through the bathroom door if you’re in there for longer than 3 minutes.

You have at least six male relatives named David.

You feel a sense of pride after seeing a Stephen Spielberg movie, but Barbara Streisand embarrasses you to no end.

Your grandparent’s furniture smelled like mothballs and was as comfortable as sitting on sandpaper.

You thought that speaking loud was normal.

You thought whitefish salad and lox was the quintessential party food.