Knock Knock

My mom found an old joke book of mine in her attic: The World’s Worst Knock Knock Jokes. I vaguely remember this book; it has my name written on the inside front cover. The price on the front is $1.50, and the copyright date is 1979 — that puts me around 12 years old.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Doughnut.
Doughnut, who?
Doughnut ask me silly questions.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Dwayne.
Dwayne, who?
Dwayne the bathtub, I’m dwowning.

Ouch. Yes, the book lives up to its title. The interior art is some kind of crazy Picasso-esque acid trip. There’s only one or two jokes per page, and a total of 48 pages.

There’s a few jokes with answers that are apparently supposed to be sung (judging by the notes around the answer), but I don’t recognize the tune.

Knock knock.
Who’s there?
Theresa.
Theresa, who?
Theresa . . . nothing like a dame.

I don’t get it.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com