Dumpster Fire Dave's VIP Comedy Vault: Spooky Shenanigans Edition October 1, 2025

Hey, Vault dwellers! It's your boy Dumpster Fire Dave here, diving headfirst into another week of unfiltered chaos from the comedy trenches. This week's theme? Spooky season's got me all twisted up like a mummy's bandage, so we're cranking the dial on 20 fresh(ish) zingers pulled straight from the Vault's overflowing trash bin of jokes. We're talking 5 bone-chilling spooky ones, 5 that'll make you question your life choices (dead baby classics), 5 groaners that'll have Dad high-fiving himself, and 5 wild cards to keep things unpredictable. These bad boys are inspired by the dark, twisted vibes of the season—think flickering jack-o'-lanterns and that one uncle who tells the same story every year. Grab your Ouija board and let's summon some laughs. If they flop, blame the ghosts. This week's Bio is all about John Belushi's ghost, JK - just a couple stories about the late great and funny man. Ending with the first of four spooky comedy tales for the month of October.

5 Spooky Jokes (Because Nothing Says 'Fun' Like Eternal Torment)

1. What’s a ghost’s favorite dinner? Spook-etti and scream balls—extra cheese for that haunting flavor.

2. Why did the skeleton go to the party alone? He had no body to go with him, but plenty of ribs to pick.

3. How does a vampire fix his eyesight? He gets a pair of spook-tacles—now he can see the blood coming!

4. What do you call a witch at the beach? A sand-witch, brewing up spells in her sandy cauldron.

5. Why don’t mummies take vacations? They’re afraid to unwind—too much risk of falling apart at the seams.

5 Dead Baby Jokes (Dark Humor Alert: Proceed with Caution, or Don't—Your Funeral)

1. What's the difference between a dead baby and a Ferrari? I don't have a Ferrari in my garage.

2. How do you make a dead baby float? Two scoops of ice cream, one scoop of dead baby, and take your foot off its head.

3. What's funnier than a dead baby? A dead baby in a clown costume—talk about a killer performance.

4. How many dead babies does it take to paint a wall? Depends on how hard you throw them—aim for the splatter effect.

5. What's worse than ten dead babies nailed to a tree? One dead baby nailed to ten trees—maximum coverage.

5 Dad Jokes (So Bad, They'll Make You Proud to Be One)

1. Why don't skeletons fight each other? They don't have the guts—plus, they're too busy picking their bones.

2. What do you call fake spaghetti? An impasta—served with a side of groan.

3. Why did the scarecrow win an award? He was outstanding in his field—no competition from the crows.

4. How do you organize a space party? You planet—don't forget the rocket punch.

5. Why can't you give Elsa a balloon? She'll just let it go—cue the sad Disney montage.

5 Random Jokes (Because Why Not Throw in a Curveball?)

1. Why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants? In case he got a hole in one—fore-ward thinking!

2. What do you call cheese that isn't yours? Nacho cheese—hands off my snack!

3. Why don't eggs tell jokes? They'd crack each other up—yolk's on them.

4. How does a penguin build its house? Igloos it together—freezing cold vibes only.

5. Why did the math book look sad? It had too many problems—no solutions in sight.

There you have it, Vault VIPs—20 jokes to fuel your next awkward family gathering or solo cackle session. If these didn't land, it's probably because the comedy gods are on strike. Hit reply with your own twisted takes, or tell me what theme to dumpster-dive next week. Stay spooky, stay savage, and remember: laughter's the best revenge. Until next time, this is Dave, signing off from the fire pit. Boom roasted.

BIO

John Belushi was born on January 24, 1949, in Chicago, Illinois, to Adam and Agnes Belushi, Albanian immigrants who raised him in the suburb of Wheaton. He died tragically on March 5, 1982, at age 33, from a drug overdose at the Chateau Marmont in Los Angeles. He was married to Judith Jacklin Belushi from 1976 until his death, and they had no children. His legacy lives on through his widow’s work, notably her 2005 biography Belushi, which details his life and impact.

John Belushi, the larger-than-life force behind SNL's wildest early sketches, had a knack for comedy that often blurred the line between genius and chaos, with lesser-known antics revealing his unfiltered, mischievous spirit. One hilarious tidbit from his Animal House days: Belushi's iconic Bluto costume—complete with a ripped sweatshirt and disheveled hair—wasn't some elaborate wardrobe creation; it was literally pulled straight from his own closet, turning his everyday slovenly style into cinematic gold that grossed over $140 million. Off-screen, his physical comedy extended to absurd fan encounters, like the time a stranger punched him in the gut yelling "Hey, Bluto!" or another who smooshed a hamburger into his face, mistaking real-life roughhousing for a sketch—Belushi, ever the trooper, reportedly just laughed it off with a booming, bewildered guffaw. Even in the high-stakes world of The Blues Brothers, director John Landis had to flush Belushi's drug stash down the toilet mid-production to keep the shoot on track, only for the comedian to emerge from his dressing room later with a bottle of Courvoisier, a pile of coke, and the floor flooded in urine, turning potential disaster into a legendary tale of his indomitable, messy humor.

Yet Belushi's comedic legacy hid sweeter, under-the-radar absurdities that showcased his big-hearted absurdity amid the frenzy. Take his high school sweetheart Judith Jacklin: Belushi, in a rare moment of self-aware candor, once tried to talk her out of dating him, confessing, "I want to be an actor and I'll probably never make any money," predicting she'd be the breadwinner—proving his charm could be as endearingly awkward as his on-stage antics. His generosity shone through in quieter ways too, like anonymously bankrolling businesses for his Chicago pals or gifting his dad a sprawling San Diego ranch, all while dodging the spotlight on such acts. And in a twist of ironic immortality, Dan Aykroyd immortalized Belushi's party-animal essence as the gluttonous green ghost Slimer in Ghostbusters, a role originally penned for John himself—complete with Belushi's signature cigar-chomping, snack-devouring vibe—ensuring his spirit haunted Hollywood with laughs long after his 1982 passing.

For John

A Halloween Ha-Ha Horror

On a chilly Halloween night in a few years ago, a gang of kids—Tommy, the self-proclaimed candy king, Lila with her lopsided witch hat, and little Max in a wobbly dinosaur costume—set out trick-or-treating under a moon that looked suspiciously like a jack-o’-lantern. They’d hit Mrs. Henderson’s house, scoring a jackpot of chocolate bars, when a shadowy figure lurched from behind a gnarled oak. It was a clown, painted with a grin wider than a pumpkin’s, trailing them with a honking horn and a megaphone. “Why’d the ghost go to therapy?” the clown bellowed, startling Max into dropping his Reese’s. “Because he had too many boos!”

Undeterred, the kids dashed to Old Man Jenkins’ porch, where he doled out homemade popcorn balls, only for the clown to pop up again, juggling rubber chickens. “What do you call a skeleton who won’t shut up?” he shouted, his voice echoing down the street as Lila fumbled her bag. “A rattling comedian!” The kids groaned, Tommy muttering, “This guy’s scarier than a haunted house,” while Max tried to roar like a T-Rex to scare him off—only to trip over his tail and land face-first in a pile of leaves. The clown cackled, honking louder, turning their candy hunt into a comedy chase.

By the time they reached the final house, a candy-corn-lit mansion, the kids were panting, their bags lighter from dropped loot and their patience thinner than a spiderweb. The clown, now doing a goofy cartwheel, yelled, “Why don’t mummies take vacations? They’re afraid to unwind!” Lila, fed up, lobbed a popcorn ball at him, nailing him square in the nose. The clown yelped, tripped over his oversized shoes, and tumbled into a bush, honking out a final, “Ouch-aroni!” The kids seized the moment, grabbing their candy and sprinting home, vowing next year to hire a jester-proof security guard—preferably one who doesn’t tell dad jokes.

Beware of the Joke Telling Clown