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President Bush calls in the Head of the CIA and asks, How come the Jews know everything before we do?”
The CIA chief says, “The Jews have this expression :’Vus titzuch?’
The President says, “Hell, what’s that mean?”
Well, Mr. President”, replies the CIA chief, “It’s a Yiddish expression which roughly translates to “what’s happening”. They just ask each other and they know everything.”
The President decides to personally go undercover to determine if this is true. He gets dressed up as an Orthodox Jew (black hat, beard, long black coat) and is secretly flown in an unmarked plane to New York, picked up in an unmarked car, and dropped off in Brooklyn’s most Jewish neighborhood.
Soon a little old man comes shuffling along. The President stops him and whispers, “Vus titzuch?”
The old guy whispers back: “Bush is in Brooklyn.”

A short,fat,bald Italian man went to a brothel one evening and selected an absolutely gorgeous blonde.As they went upstairs the Italian had a beaming smile on his face as he thought of what lay in store for him but the woman viewed the ugly man with distaste.
However, as they undressed the blonde was astonished to find that the Italian had a very,very large penis.
“Oh,what a magnificent cock you have there,” said the woman.
“Yes, I am very proud of him,” said the Italian, “I call him Caesar.”
“Can I bring some of the other girls round to have a look at him?” she asked.
“Certainly not,” said the Italian.
“But why not?” pouted the woman.
“Because I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him,” said the Italian.

Harry went for a job interview. It seemed to go well because before he left, he was told, “We would like you to work for us. We’ll give you $10 an hour starting today and in three months time we’ll increase it to $15 an hour. So when would you like to start?”
Harry replies, “In about 3 months from now.”

Benny and Leah are on holiday in Marbella and decide to go to a bullfight. While they are watching the grand procession which takes place before the bullfights commences, Leah starts asking a lot of questions. Fortunately, Benny had been to a bullfight some years earlier during a business trip and is able to answer them.
“Benny, who’s that leading the procession?” asks Leah.
“That’s the toreador, Leah.”
“So who’s that behind the toreador?”
“That’s the matador, Leah.”
“And who’s that man behind the matador, Benny?”
“That’s the picador, Leah,” says Benny, a little fed up with all the questions.
“And who’s the little man behind the picador?” asks Leah.
“That’s Isadore, the kosher butcher.”

The obituary editor of the Jerusalem Post is not one to admit his mistakes easily. One day he got a phone call from an irate subscriber. The caller complained that his name had been printed in the obituary column.
“Really?” replied the editor calmly. “And where are you calling from?”



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