and the doctor says, “I regret to tell you that you’ve but one week to live”
The musician says “On what?”
And the Doctor said…
“I’ll give you ten bucks for those old bagpipes.”
I don’t get it.
A Cork man goes to the doctor and the doctor tells him - “You’ve got 2 weeks to live”.
The Cork man replies - “I’ll take the last week in July and the first week in August”.
(That’s actually a true story!!)
Two women are in a garden, and one pulls out a huge carrot. “It looks just like Johnny’s willie,” she says.
“You mean the size of it?” asks the other.
“No,” replies the first, “The dirt of it.”
Musicians don’t make much money. (Isn’t that it?)
It reminds me of the story at St. Peter’s gate. St. Peter asks the first person to arrive how much money she made last year. She says that she was a personal injury lawyer and made about $675,000. St. Peter says, “Okay, second door on the right, down the hall.” He asks the second person, who says, “I made $225,000, including bonuses.” St. Peter directs him to a different door and a different hallway. He asks the third guy how much he made. The guy shuffles his feet, hems and haws, “Well, let’s see…there was…okay I got about $500 for that…and…hmm, that one thing…oh yeah, I guess I got about $250 for that…and then, well, I guess, scraped all together and all, I probably made about $6500.” And St. Peter says, “Hey man, what do you play?”
Carol
Ha. 
Reminds me of this one:
-“Daddy, when I grow up, I want to be a musician.”
-“Now, you can’t have it both ways.”
Watched a show on TV last night called “Playing for Change.” It was about professional street musicians in California, New Orleans and New York. It certainly made the point that these folks (many of which were very talented by the way) don’t make a lot of dough but, it also made the point that they pretty much all loved what they did.
Hey–that’s my line!
Ah. I see. British humor…
Back in the days before 911 I knew a guy who busked with a tenor sax at the airport. He played 4 hours a day with the other hours of the day his airport spot being shared with other musicians.
He didn’t make a lot of money but he ate well, had a roof over his head, got in lots of practice time, and was free to take other gigs when he had the opportunity.
One day we were going to do something but he phoned to say he’d be a bit late. The violinist that had the 4 hour slot after him was out of town auditioning for some symphony and he’d decided to do a bit of “overtime”.
The chestnut:
What do you call a musician who breaks up with his girlfriend?
Homeless.
[rimshot]
The British don’t have humor. They have humour.
That was British humo(u)r???
Of course. An American doctor would never say, “you’ve but one week
to live.” They’d say, “Dude, you’re hosed!” (wait… that was Canadian
doctors…)
Man, that explains why I’ve had people ask me if I was actually a 'Merkin. I talk funny. And I don’t even watch “Eastenders”.
A family of musicians dressed in band uniforms walks into a talent agency. It’s a father, mother, son, a 17-year old daughter, and the mother’s twin sisters, and of course, a dog. The father says to the talent agent, “We have a really amazing act. You should represent us.”
The agent says, “Sorry, I don’t represent family acts. They’re a little too cute.”
The mother says, “Sir, if you just see our act, we know you would want to represent us.”
The agent says, “OK. OK. I’ll take a look.”
At that, the father pulls out his piccolo and gives it to the mother, who immediately starts triple-tonguing it. Then the mother brings out this pair of massive cymbals, and while she’s tonguing the father’s piccolo, the father takes the mother’s cymbals in his hands and starts banging them together over and over and over. Then, the mother’s twin sisters, both of whom have huge sousaphones, gather around the mother, and they all take turns on the piccolo.
While all this cymbal banging and triple piccolo tonguing is going on, the son and the daughter pull out each other’s brass instruments, and while the son sticks his hand in the bell of the sister’s french horn, she is playing on his euphonium. And the dog just sits off to the side, licking his baton.
Then the twin sisters toss their sousaphones aside so the father can bang his cymbals on them, and the sisters, now that they’ve gotten rid of their load, strip off their band uniforms and toss them off the stage into the audience. Underneath their band uniforms, they were wearing baton twirler outfits, and they grab the dog’s baton and start twirling it up and down, while the dog runs around in a circle barking The St. Louis Blues.
The son and the daughter then take turns fingering each other’s brasses, while the mother and the father pick up percussion instruments. The mother has a triangle, and the father has a pair of enormous temple blocks, so the father rings the mother’s triangle and the mother whacks on his blocks.
For a finale, the twins stand on their heads and pass the baton back and forth without even using their hands. The dog takes his baton in his mouth and climbs up on top of them, counting time in a fast 6/8 beat, and the father and the son pull out flageolets, which the mother and daughter blow to the tune of a little known Sousa march.
When they finish, the agent just sits in silence, dumbstruck. Finally, he manages, “That’s a hell of an act. What do you call it?”
And the father says, “The Aristocrats!”
Nice. The Aristocrats is much funnier as allusion to the actual “Aristocrats”
And the father says, “The Aristocrats!”
Finally a version of the Aristocrats I can use to explain it to my friends, and I’ve never seen the movie. (Of course, they’ve never heard of the movie!)