Before he got philosophy and a much younger wife, Woody Allen was in my books one of the funniest guys the planet. I recently came across a transcript of his classic nightclub standup routine from the mid-’60s that became a bestselling album. Ready with the rimshots?

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

I shot a moose once. I was hunting in upstate New York, and I shot a moose, and I strap him on to the fender of my car, and I’m driving home along the West Side Highway, but what I didn’t realise was that the bullet did not penetrate the moose. It just creased the scalp, knocking him unconscious. And I’m driving through the Holland Tunnel – the moose woke up. So I’m driving with a live moose on my fender. The moose is signalling for a turn.
There’s a law in New York state against driving with a conscious moose on your fender Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. And I’m very panicky, and then it hits me: some friends of mine are having a costume party. I’ll go, I’ll take the moose, I’ll ditch him at the party. It wouldn’t be my responsibillity.
So I drive up to the party and I knock on the door. The moose is next to me. My host comes to the door. I say, “Hello, you know the Solomons.” We enter. The moose mingles. Did very well. Scored. Two guys were trying to sell him insurance for an hour and a half.
Twelve o’clock comes – they give out prices for the best costume of the night. First price goes to the Burkowitzes, a maried couple dressed as a moose. The moose comes in second. The moose is furious. He and the Burkowitzes lock antlers in the living room. They knock each other unconscious. Now, I figured, is my chance. I grab the moose, strap him onto my fender and shoot back up the road – but I got the Burkowitzes by mistake instead! So I’m driving along with two Jewish people on my fender, and there’s a law in New York State … Tuesdays, Thursdays and especially Saturdays.
The following morning the Burkowitzes wake up in the woods, in a moose suit. Mr Burkowitz is shot, stuffed and mounted - at the New York Athletic Club, and the joke is on them, because Jews aren’t allowed in.

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

I was appearing in Greenwich Village at a coffee house called the Integration Bagle Shop and Flea Parlor. I was the master of ceremonies, and I was on with an eskimo vocalist who sang “Night and Day” six months at a time.

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

I was in Europe many years ago with Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway had just written his first novel, and Gertrude Stein and I read it, and we said that is was a good novel, but not a great one, and that it needed some work, but it could be a fine book. And we laughed over it. Hemingway punched me in the mouth.
That winter Picasso lived on the Rue d’Barque, and he had just painted a picture of a naked dental hygenist in the middle of the Gobi Desert. Gertrude Stein said it was a good picture, but not a great one, and I said
it could be a fine picture. We laughed over it and Hemingway punched me in the mouth.
F Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald came home from their wild New Year’s Eve party. It was April. Scott had just written “Great Expectations”, and Gertrude Stein and I read it, and we said it was a good book, but there was no need to have written it, ‘cause Charles Dickens had already written it. We laughed over it, and Hemingway punched me in the mouth.
That winter we went to Spain to see Manoleto fight, and he looked to be 18, and Gertrude Stein said no, he was 19, but that he only looked 18, and I said sometimes a boy of 18 will look 19, whereas other times a 19-year-old can easily look 18. That’s the way it is with a true Spaniard. We laughed over that and Gertrude Stein punched me in the mouth.

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

I cheated on my metaphysics final in college, I looked within the soul of the boy sitting next to me.