Factory Joke Thread – September 2026

We have two classes of forecasters.
Those who don't know
and those who don't know they don't know
(John Kenneth Gailbraith)

My friend’s dad was in a union. Every story began, “Once upon a time and a half . . . “

Good One

Why did the tomato blush?
Because he saw the salad dressing!

Why can’t you get angry with a yam?
Because they’re such sweet potatoes!

When do you know a banana wants to dance?
When you see a banana shake!

Why do fungi have to pay double bus fares?
Because they take up too mushroom!

Which is the fastest vegetable?
A runner bean!

What is a zucchini’s favorite sport?
Squash!

What do you do if you lose your root vegetable?
Hope it will turnip!

Why did the potatoes argue?
They couldn’t see eye to eye.

What is broccoli’s favorite music genre?
Brock ‘n’ roll.

What is green and goes to summer camp?
A brussel scout!

What is the strongest vegetable?
A muscle sprout!

Why did the grape go out with a prune?
He couldn’t find a date!

What did the sweet potato say to the pumpkin?
I yam what I yam!

Which vegetable did Noah leave off the ark?
Leeks!

Which vegetable loves animals the most?
A zoo-cchini!

(Jokes came from https://foodcorps.org/)

After renaming Lake Ontario "Lake America", our president now wants to rename Canada Geese "Donald Ducks"

Love this one

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I’m 79 years old and a bit cranky. I was in the McDonalds drive thru line this morning when the lady behind me started blowing her horn. She mouthed something to the effect that I was taking too long to place my order.

When I got to the first window, I paid for her order along with my own. The cashier must have told her what I’d done because as we moved up, she leaned out her window and mouthed “Thank You”. She was obviously embarrassed that I had repaid her rudeness with kindness.

When I got to the second window, I showed them both receipts and took her food too. Now she has to go back to the end of the line and start over.

Don’t blow your horn at old people, they have been around a long time.

It seems that one Sunday, Ms. Jones waited until the end of the church service in their small Texas town to speak with Preacher Smith.

The preacher was talking with members of the congregation as they left when Ms. Jones approached him.

“Preacher Smith, I have something very important I need to ask you.”

“I’ll be happy to help,” he said. “Just let me see everyone off, and then we can talk.”

A few minutes later, the preacher turned to Ms. Jones. “Now, how may I help you?”

“Well,” she replied, “it’s very personal. Could we go someplace more private?”

As they walked toward his office, Preacher Smith assured her that she had come to the right person.

“But you can’t tell anyone,” Ms. Jones insisted.

“Of course not,” he replied. “You can talk to me. I’ve known you for decades. Why, you’ve been a member of this church since you were a teenager.”

When they reached his office, Preacher Smith could see that she was still reluctant to discuss whatever was troubling her. He continued to reassure her until she finally began.

“Preacher Smith, do you remember that near the end of World War II there was a German POW camp outside of town?”

“Well, that was before my time,” he said, “but I’ve certainly heard about it. You’d remember it better than I would. You’ve lived here all your life.”

“When I was a teenager,” Ms. Jones continued, “I used to see the German prisoners working in the fields.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about that,” the preacher replied. “But that’s ancient history.”

“That’s not it,” she said. “Every once in a while, one of the POWs would escape.”

“Yes, I’ve heard those stories, too. But Ms. Jones, that was decades ago. Surely you don’t need to worry about any of that now.”

“No, no. That’s not it either.”

She hesitated, then continued. “One night, when I was a young girl, I heard a noise outside. When I went to investigate, I discovered one of the escaped German soldiers.”

“Well, that certainly is interesting,” Preacher Smith said, “but surely that isn’t what has you so upset.”

“No. There’s more. I hid him in our attic. I would sneak food and water up to him so no one would know he was there.”

The preacher smiled reassuringly. “Ms. Jones, you don’t need to worry about that. It was a very long time ago.”

“That’s still not my problem.” She took a deep breath.
“As time passed, I began to notice just how handsome he was. He was big and strong, blond-haired and blue-eyed. He looked like Adonis. And I became very attracted to him.”

Preacher Smith nodded sympathetically. “You were both young. You had emotions and desires like any other young people. Being attracted to one another was perfectly natural. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“That’s not my problem either.” Ms. Jones hesitated again. “Eventually, one thing led to another... and we had sex.”

Preacher Smith leaned back in his chair. “Ms. Jones, that happened more than eighty years ago. You were a young woman, and he was a young soldier. I’ve known you for decades, and you’ve always been a wonderful, thoughtful member of this church and this community. Nobody would think any less of you now.”

Ms. Jones shook her head impatiently. “Preacher, that’s not my problem!”

Finally, Preacher Smith asked, “Then what in the world has you so upset?”

Ms. Jones looked at him and asked, “Do you think I should tell him the war is over?”????

He wanted to get a long, little doggie.

Several years ago, we had an Intern who was none too swift. One day she was typing and turned to a secretary
and said, 'I'm almost out of typing paper. Now, what do I do?' 'Just use paper from the photocopier',
the secretary told her. With that, the intern took her last remaining blank piece of paper, put it on the
photocopier and proceeded to make 25-blank copies.

(P.s: She's a Brunette, by the way!!)