My wife tries everything to get us to eat healthy foods. Last night we had liver pizza.
Her enchiladas are dynamite. When they hit your stomach they
explode on impact.
I'm so hungry I could eat a horse. And if I know my wife, that's
probably what she's cooking for dinner.
With my cooking, it doesn't do any good to invite people over for dinner -- I
have to send out subpoenas.
The first time I cooked a chicken it was horrible. I thought the poor thing would never
stop screaming.
Her chicken never tastes greasy. That's because she fries it in
Ragu.
I have a rule that nobody ever leaves my kitchen hungry.
Nauseated, yes... but not hungry.
Actually, she's a pretty good cook -- if you don't mind drinking mashed potatos through a
straw.
I wanted some chicken noodle soup so I bought a chicken. I chopped that dumb chicken all
to pieces, I never did find his noodles.
We had cockroaches until my wife got rid of them. Fed 'em some leftover meatloaf.
The one single interesting thing I can think of about
boiled squash is that I can't think of one single interesting thing about boiled squash.
You know you're having salad for dinner when you walk into
the house and can't smell anything burning.
She's very creative. In fact, a little too
creative. How many people do you know who substitute Milk of Magnesia for white sauce?
I'll tell you what kind of cook she is. At her dinner table
the centerpiece is a spittoon!
I'm a terrible cook. The dog dug a hole in the yard and
buried my cookbook.
My wife cooks once a week and freezes everything for later.
It works out great. Last night we had turkey popsicles and mashed potato ice cream.
My wife's not speaking to me. Last night she told me to take out
the garbage and I threw out dinner.
I'll have to admit my wife's cooking never gives me an upset
stomach. That's because she fries everything in Pepto-Bismol.
My wife has some strange recipes. Last night she made
porcupine pie. It doesn't taste too good, but it does have built-in toothpicks.
And it really sticks to your ribs.
I pulled a fast one on my family this weekend. I went out
and bought fast-food hamburgers and then put them on the barbecue grill and pretended I
made them. It would have worked if the darn paper bag hadn't caught fire.
My wife will do anything to get out of cooking. This
morning she convinced the kids the frozen waffles were a new kind of Popsicle.
Every Wednesday night my wife has to fix a macaroni
cassarole. That's only fair. She broke it -- she can fix it.
Let me tell you about my cooking. When I go into the
kitchen the onions start to cry.
My mother used to make elastic meatloaf. She'd make it on
Monday and stretch it till Friday.
Anyone who says you can't get blood out of a turnip hasn't seen
my wife cook.
You know what I hate worse than anything? Even worse than
wife jokes? When women get together and swap recipies!
I mean, it's embarrassing. My best recipe is directions to
Burger King.
I am NOT a gourmet cook. When I serve Chinese food -- an
hour later you're still chewing.
And I used to really try. Once I even went to cooking
school. My husband got me in on an athletic scholarship.
My pot roast tasted like a football!
Two lessons, they told me to put my head in the
oven.
Because of me the Pillsbury Bake-Off now has an Intensive
Care Unit.
I got to watching this French chef on TV. It looked easy so
I tried it. I'll tell you, the only time the French ate like that was in 1914 -- in
a trench!
Please pass the mustard gas!
My cooking was featured on "P.M. Magazine." Ever
since then, the P.M. stands for "Post Mortem."
But women are supposed to share their prize
recipes, so if anybody wants it I'll be happy to give you my recipe for popcorn.
I should warn you, though, it gets a little messy. I use
cream style corn!
I'm very particular about what I serve my family. If
I can't make it in a toaster, we don't eat it.
My wife is trying to economize by finding new things to do
with leftovers. So far, she's used the leftover spaghetti to make an afghan.
