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Q. What does the Easter Bunny get for making a basket?
A. Two points.
Q. How do you send a letter to the Easter Bunny?
A. Hare mail.
Q, What do you call the Easter Bunny when he visits Santa Claus?
A. Cold.
Q. Why was the easter egg hiding?
A. He was a little chicken.
Q. What comes at the end of Easter?
A."R"
Q. What's the Easter Bunny's favorite dance?
A. Hippity Hop
Q. What type of communications do Easter bunnies use?
A. Ethernet.
What happened to the Easter Bunny, when he met my cat?
A. Hare yesterday, gone today.
And have you seen the chocolate egg crash tests?
Easter Bunny movie quote: "Ears looking at you, kid."
The Easter Bunny boycotted Rabbit-Proof Fence.
Easter Bunny medicine is searching for a cure for Herpes Oster.
Q: What do you get if you cross a rabbit with an anesthesiologist?
A: The Ether Bunny!
I.
Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Ether!
Ether who?
Ether Bunny!
II.
Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Beep-beep!
Beep-beep who?
Beep-beep! Ether Bunny was run down by passing truck!
III.
Knock, knock!
Who's there?
Boo!
Boo who?
Boo-hoo? Don't cry--Ether Bunny be back next year!
Q: Who makes bread for spring holidays?
A: The Yeaster Bunny!
Who brings brightly painted shellfish around in the spring?
The Oyster Bunny!
Mary Aileen @8:
Q: Who makes bread for spring holidays?
A: The Yeaster Bunny!
∴Christ is risen?
Here in Boulder CO, it was cloudy so he didn't see his shadow. That means 6 more weeks of ?
jnh (10): LOL! (literally)
I hadn't thought of that, but I love it.
It's about this time of year when I get tired of Passover and envious of my Christian friends. Christ may have risen, but matzah is flat.
jnh @10: The trumpet shall sound, and the bread shall be raised...
or perhaps
the crumpet shall brown, and the bread shall be raised... (from the Easter Sunday Brunch version of the Messiah)
Irving Berlin, by way of Pete Stampfel:
in your easter vomit with all the flies upon it
you’ll be the drunkest wino in the easter parade
you’ll be all hung over and when they roll you over
you’ll be the rankest wino in the easter parade
on the avenue tenth avenue the
photographer will snap us and he’ll say that
you’re like a pile of manure
fifty pounds of comet
could not remove the vomit
and all the flies you’re wearing
to the easter parade
So this guy is driving along on Easter morning, when he sees something dart out from the bushes beside the road. Thump! It's under his wheels. He stops to take a look at what he hit, and he's horrified to find that it was a cute little bunny, wearing a perky bonnet, and carrying a basket of colored eggs. And the rabbit is dead, no mistake about it.
He sits by the side of the road, crying. He's killed the Easter Bunny! He's destroyed Easter for thousands of children!
Just then a lady sees him and pulls over. She walks up to ask what's wrong. All he can do is point to the Easter Bunny's little corpse.
The lady walks back to her car, pulls out a spray can, walks over the Easter Bunny, and sprays him with the can. To the guy's surprise, the Easter Bunny stands up, wiggles his nose, adjusts his bonnet, picks up his basket of eggs, and goes hopping off!
The bunny goes about fifteen feet, then turns, gives a big grin, and waves his little paw. Then he continues another fifteen feet, turns with a big smile, and waves again. Fifteen more feet, same deal, a smile and a wave! And so on, until the Easter Bunny vanishes over the horizon.
The guy is amazed. He turns to the lady and says, "What did you do?"
She points at the can: "Hair spray. Brings new life to your hair. Adds permanent wave."
Is the Easter Bunny related to the White Rabbit?
Re: #7 Syd
Longer version:
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Ether.
Ether, who?
The Ether Bunny.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Snother.
Snother who?
Snother Ether Bunny.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Cargo.
Cargo who?
Cargo and run over the Ether Bunny.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
Don't cry, Ether Bunny be back again next year.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad I didn't say Ether bunny again?
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Consumption.
Consumption who?
Consumption be done about all these [expletives optional] Ether Bunnies?
What happens when you tell jokes to Easter eggs?
They crack up!
jnh @ #10:
... the House of the Rising Son ...
I'm about to eat a chocolate Easter bunny.
I'm not sure whether to bite off the head first, or nibble my way up from the feet and then chew on the ears until there is nothing left but "Sunny's" every-smiling face.
* * *
My immediate family wasn't religious. Easter was a family get-together and hidden candy holiday, almost always with my father's family. A feast holiday, with rowdy cousins and a crabby grandmother and aunt.
I used to try to duplicate the grand meals -- ham, mashed potatoes, other good stuff -- we had, as a tribute to past good times, before that side of the family fell apart.
But today I had a big fillet of broiled salmon, rice and vegetables. Mmmmmm.
My sister the nun contributes:
Q. Why did the Easter Bunny hide the eggs?
A. He didn't want his wife to know he was having an affair with a chicken.
I am informed that a little old lady told her the joke, which by definition makes it acceptable.
Stefan Jones @21 -- you're sure that wasn't a chocolate mousie?
How did the egg cross the road? It hatched, then crossed.
(Sketchy pun, I know.)
Paula Lieberman @2: and here all these years I'd been thinking an ethernet was what you used to catch the bunny.
Now all my ideas are changed, changed utterly.
Not a joke, but a nice story about bunnies: http://www.presstelegram.com/news/ci_17911629
Also, on the chocolate ones, my family always starts with the ears. You don't have to be a Christian to like a nice chocolate rabbit.
@18
Consumption be done about it?
Of cough, of cough!
@27
Move a lung now, nothing to see here...
Cynthia W. @ 27: No, I'm afraid there's nothing TB done at this point.
Mark@29
TB or not TB, that is the question...
Q. What does the Easter Bunny like to sing at the karaoke bar?
A. Hip-hop!
And because nobody else has posted it yet, an oldie-but-goodie: Creme That Egg!
James D. Macdonald @ #16:
A version of that joke is a perennial favourite in my family, to the point that I know somebody who claims it's diagnostic: if somebody he's just been introduced to tells him the Joke, they always turn out to be one of my father's relatives.
In our version, it's not a woman with a spray can, but an avuncular balding priest with a jar of hare restorer.
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