Two hobos were walking from one town to the next. They were very hungry, not having eaten in days.
They come across some fresh roadkill, at which point one hobo excitedly races over to it, gets on his knees, and begins tearing into the mess with gusto.
After a couple of minutes of ravening, he notices that his friend hasn't joined him in the feeding frenzy.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, puzzled by his friend's reticence, "I thought you were hungry too!"
"Oh, I am," he replies, "I just want to wait a little while."
"Wait?! snorts the first hobo, "there won't be anything left in a couple of minutes!"
In just a few minutes, the first hobo had eaten most of the roadkill and felt better than he had done in days.
After a brief rest, the hobos kept walking.
A little while later, the first hobo started feeling unwell, and got worse the farther he walked. He sat down on the side of the road, holding his by now very sore belly. His friend sat beside him, supporting him.
"Oh, God - I think I'm going to - ," and begins vomiting copiously.
His friend held his cupped hands out to catch the vomit, and then began eating the vomit ravenously.
"You see, that's why I was waiting," he smiled at the first hobo, "I just wanted a warm meal..."
Edit: My dad told me this joke when I was about ten, so it really is a dadjoke...
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