An old Jewish woman, on her 80th birthday, decides to prepare her last will and testament. She goes to the rabbi to show it to him and to ask him for advice on a few points, chief amongst them is her request that she not be buried in a Jewish cemetery.
“But why Mrs. Epstein?” the rabbi asks. “You don’t want to be buried with the rest of our people?”
“No,” Mrs. Epstein said resolutely. “I want to be buried at Bloomingdales.”
“Bloomingdales?!” the rabbi said in disbelief.
“Yes. Then I’ll be sure that my daughters will visit me at least twice a week!”
Mendel, a popular waiter at Yitz’s Delicatessen, passes away, and some of his customers decide to go to a spiritualist who says that he can contact Mendel in the afterlife.
“Just knock on the table as you did when he was with you,” says the medium, “and he will appear again.”
There is much knocking, but no sign of Mendel. The group bangs louder and louder, and finally they begin to call his name, louder and louder. Then, Mendel appears, with a cloth over his arm.
“What happened, Mendel?” says one in the group. “Why didn’t you come when we first knocked?”
“It wasn’t my table,” says Mendel.
Two women meet on the street.
“Molly, I understand you have a mazal tov coming to you.”
“Oh yes — my daughter is getting married.”
“Isn’t that wonderful! And who’s the lucky man?”
“David is the chief surgical resident at Cedars-Sinai Hospital.”
“That’s wonderful. But wait — I thought he was a professor.”
“Oh no, that was her previous husband — a law professor at Yale.”
“My goodness, that’s really something. Then why do I seem to remember a psychiatrist?”
“You must be thinking of Saul, her first husband.”
“Oh Molly, you’re a lucky women. Imagine, having so much naches, from just one daughter!”
Three men are in the maternity waiting room at Hadassah Hospital in Israel. A doctor comes in and says to the first man, “Mazel Tov, your wife just gave birth to quadruplets!”
The man replied, “Wow, what a coincidence, I live in Kiryat Arbah and arba is four.”
Another doctor comes in and says to the second man, “Mazel Tov! Your wife just gave birth to septuplets.”
The second man replies, “I can’t believe it. What a coincidence — I live in Be’er Sheva, sheva is seven.”
Just then, the third man faints and thuds onto the floor. The others rush over to him and one of the doctors is able to revive him. “Sir” he says, “what happened? Are you alright?”
The man looks at the doctor and smiles weakly, “I live in Meah Shearim. The neighborhood of a hundred gates!”