How do you drown a blonde?
Remind her that life is inane, repetitive and intrinsically meaningless.
How do you know if a blonde’s been using your computer?
Your screen is covered in Wite-Out, and your desk is covered in Wite-Out, and so is your chair and your filing cabinet and every other object in your home office.
And this shocks you, and you stand there, stunned, until the significance of the blonde’s Wite-Out spree hits you like a two-by-four.
Nothing can be erased.
We are condemned to be free, and each of our acts is an indelible stamp on everyone we’ve ever touched.
What do you do when a blonde throws a grenade at you?
Lament the absurdity of a world where science is used for war.
Oh shit, you thought blonde jokes were just about women??
Well, statistically, they kind of are. One study in the Journal of Human Behavior in the Social Environment found that 63 percent of blonde jokes in circulation have women in the crosshairs, while only 5 percent are about men. I dug up a few zingers about dopey Aryan bros to end us on a high note:
A blond man shouts frantically into the phone, “My wife is pregnant and her contractions are only two minutes apart.”
“Is this her first child?” asks the doctor.
“No,” he shouts. “This is her husband!”
Two blond men find three grenades, and they decide to take them to a police station.
One asks, “What if one explodes before we get there?”
The other says, “We’ll lie and say we only found two.”
A woman called up her blond neighbor and said, “Close your curtains the next time you and your wife are intimate. The whole street was watching and laughing at you yesterday.”
The blond man replied, “Joke’s on all of you — I wasn’t even home yesterday!”