Football Tailgating Funnies
Alan: Tailgating can be fun! I like to see what everybody brings.
Mike: I brought a keg!
Jim: I brought a keg, too!
Bob: Hey, I brought a keg, too!
Alan: Well, it sounds like we’ve got plenty to drink.
Mike: No, I didn’t bring a keg of drinks. I brought a keg of PICKLES because I know everybody loves ’em.
Jim: I didn’t bring a keg of drinks, either. I brought a keg of MAPLE SYRUP for the pancake brunch we always have.
Alan: How about you, Bob? Did you bring a keg of drinks?
Bob: No. I knew we were all gonna stay sober because we don’t want to jinx the team. So, I brought a keg of NAILS.
Alan: A keg of nails? Why did you do that?
Bob: In case we want to build something.
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Ted: Hurry up and cook those burgers, Pete. The game’s gonna start in another hour.
Pete: Hold your Denver Broncos, Ted. If you can’t eat two of these burgers and still make it for the kickoff in an hour, you ain’t no fan, you’re a fanette..
Ted: What do you mean? What’s a fanette, Pete?
Pete: Someone who talks the talk, but don’t walk the walk. Someone who eats the dogs, but can’t cut the mustard.
Ted: Oh, I get it. This is another one of those squeeze bottle jokes, huh, Pete?
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Bill: Hey, Herb. How come you’ve got a baseball jersey on for a football game?
Herb: Well, my favorite football jersey is in the wash, so I was gonna wear my backup jersey, but it had a stain on it from the last time I wore it. So, I went to my old timer’s jersey, but it was a little too tight. So, all I had left was my baseball jersey.
Bill: Maybe you should have worn something other than a jersey.
Herb: What? And have everybody think I wasn’t a fan?
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Bob: Hey, where’s Pete? He’s usually here by now..
Mike: His wife said he can’t come because he’s sick in bed with the flu.
Jim: The flu wouldn’t stop a real fan. Only death or hospitalization is an acceptable excuse for a real fan.
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Bob: Hey, where’s Sid? We need his big truck so that we can tailgate.
Mike: Don’t worry. We can use my Jeep.
Bob: But your Jeep is too small, and it doesn’t have the extra power outlets like Sid’s truck.
Mike. Well, instead of a tailgate, we’ll just call it a cookout, then. Anybody for some Smores?
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Jim: Oh no, here comes the rain! That’ll ruin our tailgate party.
Bob: No it won’t. We can use the canvas cover from over the bed of my truck.
Jim: It’s wide and long enough, but it’s not very tall
Bob: So, we’ll crouch down a little.
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Ben: I hope you guys don’t mind that I made a big kettle of chili for the tailgater this time? I know I usually cook barbeque chicken, but I thought I would make something different this time.
Mike: Mind? Heck no. I don’t mind. I was just wondering what we’re going to do with all this barbeque sauce and chicken that’s gotta be cooked?
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Bill: We cooked FISH when we played the Dolphins. We cooked BUFFALO when we played the Bills. We cooked LAMB when we played St Louis. What are we going to cook for the Patriots?
Larry: How about MINUTE RICE?
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Tom: Hey, the big game is this Saturday. We’ll have to cook something special for our tailgate party. What should we cook?
Frank: Ribs! You know those are always a hit!
Sid: Yeah, but they take too long. I vote for barbeque chicken. Marty’s got some killer sauce!
Marty: I vote for burgers! They’re fast, good, and we can have a lot of them!
Tom: How about you, Larry? What do you think we should have?
Larry: Tuna fish sandwiches.
Tom: What? Why would you pick tuna fish sandwiches?
Larry: My cat likes to lick the cans when they’re empty.
—
You know, we’ve got to come up with a new name for the Broncos. The name just doesn’t seem to fit them anymore. Broncos are fast, frisky, and full of energy. I think our Broncos are more like DONKEYS.
Mike: The Denver Donkeys? Why is that?
Tom: They’re slow, not very bright, and all they do is get in the way of each other.
Mike: Yeah, but donkeys are good for hauling supplies in rocky terrain.
Tom: So are bulldozers, but they’re not very good at scoring touchdowns.
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Ben: What’s another word for “tailgating”?
Tom: Overeating.
Mike: Indigestion.
Frank: Noisy.
Larry: I’ve got it — naptime.
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Ben: Hey, we don’t have any plastic spoons or forks for the baked beans.
Jim: I never saw you using them for anything before. I thought you ate everything with your fingers.
Ben: Well, I do, but I like to scoop them onto my plate with something first.
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Jim: What’s with you, Don? Everyone shows up for the tailgate party wearing a jersey with the name of their favorite player on it except for you. You’ve got a jersey on that just says “COACH”. What’s the deal?
Don: Well, there’s always going to be a coach, so I won’t have to keep buying a new jersey everytime my favorite player gets traded, hurt, or retires.
Mike: You know, that makes a lot of sense to me.
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Bill: Did you hear the latest? No more alcoholic beverages allowed at tailgate parties for the Broncos. They say it’s making the team nervous.
Jim: Well, if you ask me, there are a lot of other things that should be making the team nervous instead of fans drinking.
Bill: Like what?
Jim: Like not scoring enough touchdowns, tackling like they were grabbing a greased pig, and fumbling more times than a first time bank robber.
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Ron: Did you hear the latest? No more alcoholic beverages allowed at tailgate parties for the Broncos.
Jim: Now, how are they going to find out who’s drinking?
Ron: They’ve got some Beverage Cops going around looking for people who are dressed crazy, acting crude and belligerent, and don’t know what teams are playing the game.
Jim: If that’s the criteria, it sounds to me like they might be locking a lot of people up.
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Ben: I heard that the Broncos have been trying to think of something for fans to do that’s equivalent to tailgating but is less dangerous.
Jim: Have they come up with anything yet?
Ben: Skydiving, wrestling alligators, and walking a tightrope blindfolded.
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Don: We should have a hot dog eating contest at our next tailgate party.
Larry: How many do you think you could eat?
Don: In ten minutes? Probably three.
Larry: How about you, Frank?
Frank: Probably five.
Larry: How about you, Sid? How many could you eat in ten minutes?
Sid: Probably 18.
Don: 18? That would be incredible.
Sid: Well, would we have to eat the buns, too?
Don: Yes, of course.
Sid: Well then, I would say 17. I don’t like to stuff myself.
