Fat Joke

Josh Shepard

Stop me if you’ve heard this one:

A guy walks into a restaurant, sees me and says,

“Hey, Big Guy.” His eyes shift to my enormous gut.

I say, “Hey, Little Fella.” He grimaces. I’m huge.

I swallowed my momma whole as a baby.

She still resents me for it. Growing boy’s gotta eat.

I’m bigger than the sun.

A man walks into a bar and he drinks the whole thing.

Then he went out for a soda. He was me. I am thirsty.

I take a bath in my swimming pool.

I dress myself in a cloud, brush my teeth with a tree.

I wore Big Ben as a watch one time, but I don’t anymore.

I outgrew it, pawned it off for beer money.

A priest, a rabbi, and a shaman are on a plane to Spokane.

They take bets on whether or not my seatbelt will click.

I step off, and the shocks on the plane gasp in relief.

A little boy points at me, says, “Look at that Big Fat Man.”

His mom swats his finger away, and shoots me a dirty look.

Her eyes tell me to have a little self respect,

but I’ve never had a little of anything,

so I go out for burgers instead.

A man walks into a doctor’s office. The doctor tells him

it’s a cold but then asks me if I’ve considered going on a diet.

Knock, knock. Who’s there? It’s me, elephantine.

This is the punchline.

This is the part where you laugh.


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