My father was a gambler when I was growing up, so I thought I would confide in him this nightmare I kept having.
"Dad," I began, "I keep having these dreams about a supernatural evil entity that takes horse racing bets from gamblers. He seems so real to me."
"Don't worry, son," my dad assured me. "There's no such thing as the bookey-man."
With his wife out for the evening, a father was trying to watch TV, but his young son kept coming in and asking for a glass of water.
After the seventh glass, the father lost his temper and yelled, "Go to sleep, I'm watching TV."
"But Dad," he protested, "my room is still on fire!"
Little Johnny asked his father, “Where did I get my intelligence from?”
His father replied, “It must be from your mother... because I still have mine.”
Al: When was your son born?
Sam: In March, he came the first of the month.
Al: Is that why you named him "Bill"?