Q: I have heard that you sometimes make up questions to fit your jokes. Is this so? Please be truthful!
It is very difficult for me to be truthful. I don’t believe in anything, not even in truth! I am not a serious person at all! I believe in playfulness. So… how does it matter whose question it is? And do you think when you write a question it is better than when I write a question? And do you think, Nandan, that when you are writing a question you are really writing or am I writing through you?
If I have to tell a joke tomorrow I can say something today and many questions will come tomorrow! There is really no need for me to write them – I can create questions in you; there is no difficulty. Otherwise, how do these many many questions come?
But you seem to be serious. And I am serious only about jokes! I am not serious about anything else. That’s why you never see me laughing at the jokes – I am really serious! – because jokes are not a laughing matter. It is not a laughing matter. It is not a joke! It is one of the most serious things in life, in fact, the only serious thing.
You ask me: I have heard that you sometimes make up…
Sometimes! Always, every day! Because whenever I come across a good joke I cannot wait for tomorrow. Who knows? Tomorrow may come, may not come. I may not be here, you may not be here – and the joke HAS to be told!
Just look at these jokes: they cannot remain untold!
A Negro walks into the fish market and buys an eel for his dinner. He puts it into the pocket of his overcoat and decides to have a drink before going home. One drink leads to another and another…
Hours later he staggers home and stumbles into the toilet for a piss. Reeling backwards and forwards he fumbles inside his trousers and pulls out what he thinks is his johnny. He feels a warm tickle down his legs, then looks down and utters in wide-eyed disbelief, “I knew you was big and I knew you was black, but I sure as hell didn’t know you had such beautiful, big blue eyes!”
A man walks into an optometrist’s office holding a cardboard box. He hands it to the optometrist who opens it and upon seeing its contents exclaims, “WOW! That’s the biggest turd I’ve ever seen!”
“Isn’t it a beauty? I did it myself!”
“It must be at least two feet long!”
“Twenty-five and a half inches, to be exact!” boasts the man, “And four and three-quarter inches in diameter!”
“Incredible! How much does it weigh?”
“One and a half pounds!” comes the proud reply.
“That is simply amazing!” exclaims the optometrist, unable to take his eyes off this marvellous specimen. “But why bring it to me? I am an optometrist!”
“Well, you see, I have this problem: every time I do one of these monsters, my eyes water!”
Mary comes to the police station with her mother. She is sobbing loudly when she reports to the policeman that she had been raped. The officer, concerned, asks her when and where all this happened.
“Well,” says Mary, crying, “three days ago in the cemetery, the following day in the forest, and yesterday evening in Johnny’s own room!”
You missed it! Perhaps you will get this…?
Dino was making pretty good time with Sally, the office steno. She agreed to go away for the weekend, provided he brought a sheath with him.
When they went upstairs to bed he admitted he didn’t know how to wear it, so she rolled it down his thumb to show him. Then they put out the light and really went at it.
In a few minutes Sally said, “I’m really sticky. I think you broke that thing.”
“No, I ain’t,” said Dino, switching on the light. “Here it is, still on my thumb!”
And you ask me: Is this so? Please be truthful!
Anand Nandan, even this question is invented by me! What more truth is needed to prove it? You have not asked it, but I have answered it!
Two Jews are walking. Ahead of them they notice Moishe walking like a duck along the footpath.
“I bet you he has haemorrhoids,” says Saul, “that’s why he walks that way!”
“No,” says Mo, “his balls are enlarged, that’s why!”
They catch up with Moishe and tell him of the bet they just made.
“You are walking this way because of bad haemorrhoids, right?” says Saul.
“No,” replies Moishe.
“Aha!” exclaims Mo. “Then it is because of your swollen balls, right?”
Moishe stops and turns towards them. “I am sorry, but both of you lose. You see, I thought it was going to be just a good old fart, but…”
Osho, Guida Spirituale Ch 10, Q 3