All Through the Night Puns

Not a creature was stirring, because somebody stole all the spoons.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.

One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.

The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.

The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.

In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.

A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.

The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.

After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.

The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.

How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.

I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.

I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.

My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.

Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.

How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.

What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.

Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.

There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.

What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.

What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.

Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.

Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.

How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.

The shovel was a ground breaking invention.

A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."

A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."

Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.

What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.

I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.

What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.

I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.

Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.

Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"

Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.

What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.

Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.

What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.

What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.

A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.

After the accident, the juggler didn

Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.

So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.

He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.

As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.

She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.

This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.

When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.

This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.

The two couldn't be happier!

They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.

One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.

She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.

She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.

A shallot, if you will.

A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.

They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.

The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.

Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.

Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.

He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.

One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.

The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.

She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to

An Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night.

The bartender finally said that the bar is closing. So the Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result.

He figured he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home.

When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face.

He crawled through the door and into his bedroom. When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up.

This time he managed to pull himself upright, but he quickly fell right into bed and is sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awakened the next morning to his wife standing over him, shouting,

"So, you've been out drinking again!!"

"What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look.

"The pub called -- you left your wheelchair there again."

He tells the farmer that he wants to speak with his animals so he can check how their life there is.

The farmer reluctantly leads the inspector to the paddocks, the inspector notices some cows and approaches asking "Hello Ms Cow, how are you finding life on this farm?" The cow replied in a ventriloquistling voice, "I love my life on the farm, I get grass all day and get put indoors at night". The farmer is amazed at the sight before him.

The inspector makes his way to the duck pond and asks the ducks, "Ducks, how is your life at this farm?" The duck, like the cows reply "I love this farm, we get grain and the big pond. We love our life here".

The inspectors continues his way through the farm with the farmer in tow eventually reaching the sheep pen. As he makes his way towards the sheep the farmer quickens his pace catching the inspectors. "I have something to tell you before you chat to the sheep, THE SHEEP LIE!

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

How do two programmers make money? One writes viruses, the other anti-viruses.

Where’s the best place to hide a body? Page two of Google.

A computer lets you make more mistakes faster than any invention in human history – with the possible exceptions of handguns and tequila.

If it weren’t for C, we’d all be programming in BASI and OBOL.

There are 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don’t.

In a world without fences and walls, who needs Gates and Windows?

Programming today is a race between software engineers striving to build bigger and better idiot-proof programs, and the Universe trying to produce bigger and better idiots. So far, the Universe is winning.

Computers make very fast, very accurate mistakes.

Never underestimate the bandwidth of a station wagon full of tapes hurling down the highway.

An SQL statement walks into a bar and sees two tables. It approaches, and asks “may I join you?”

Why is it that programmers always confuse Halloween with Christmas?

Because 31 OCT = 25 DEC.

Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft… and the only one that can be mass produced with unskilled labor.

How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb? None. It’s a hardware problem.

I named my hard drive “dat ass” so once a month my computer asks if I want to ‘back dat ass up’.

I think my neighbor is stalking me as she’s been googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night.

I changed my password to “incorrect”. So whenever I forget what it is the computer will say “Your password is incorrect”.

A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing.

It’s ok computer, I go to sleep after 20 minutes of inactivity too.

Entered what I ate today into my new fitness app and it just sent an ambulance to my house.

A clean house is the sign of a broken computer.

Wifi went down during family dinner tonight. One kid started talking and I didn’t know who he was.

I would like to thank everybody that stuck by my side for those five long minutes my house didn’t have internet.

A TV can insult your intelligence, but nothing rubs it in like a computer.

Are you a computer whiz? it seems you know how to turn my software to hardwar

I am not a dad at the moment, but I've learned the art of pretty clever puns in college. Some are mine, some are spins on inspirations, others are more on the joke side of dad.

What does a radioactive cat have?
18 half-lives

Ventriloquists are like psychiatrists, they both talk through things.

What is my vision?
To make the world 10% better?
No, it's about 20/20...

The invention of the shovel was truly a groundbreaking discovery.

Dad: I invested in some uranium, but I lost money.
Friend: What happened?
Dad: The Profit decayed.

We have received a report of a hole being discovered in the ground, our investigative team is looking into it.

There was an explosion at a local film manufacturing company, the story is still developing as we speak.

A local theater put together an act about jokes.
It was a play on words

Sø, I hêárd yöū lìkë föréigñ açćēńtš

As an airline mechanic would say, the job has lots of ups and downs.

My New Years resolution will probably be 25 megapixels, or 4K, not sure yet...

There was a river in Egypt no one believed existed, it was known locally as De-Nile.

Dad-Epitaph:
I thought I'd never live to see this day come.

There are two things that are guaranteed to open doors in life.
Push and Pull!

(How to keep an idiot in suspense)
What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?

A man builds robotic snakes for a living, I guess you could say he was a... python programmer!

A researcher's obsession with mixing stone, sand, lime, and water has yielded concrete results.

A madman once attacked a rider on his horse.
The rider had to goto hospital, the horse remains in stable condition.

A man bought a paper shop, it blew away in the wind last night.

Science is all about learning the rules, setting off an absurd amount of explosives, and then writing down what happened.

It has recently been discovered that scientific research causes cancer in rats.

Dad: Did you pick up your room?
Kid: No, I tried but it's too heavy.

As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.

One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.

Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.

I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.

I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.

I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.

After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.

I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.

So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.

I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.

As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.

The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.

I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.

This joke has been told to me

A Christmas Poem
by Dad (1952–2009)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shack,
Not a creature was stirring, we was all in the sack;

Our mugs were placed on the mantle with cheer,
In hope that Saint Nick would bring us a beer;

And me I was tucked up all snug in my bed,
But strains of sweet music still danced through my head;

So I sprang from my bed with a crash and a clatter,
And off down the hall with bare feet did I patter;

There on the chair sat my musical pipe,
So I sat down to play without fanfare or hype;

Come Mozart, come Hayden, Stravinski and Strauss,
And write me some music to bring down the house;

When down from the chimney appeared with a crash,
A strange little man in the smoke and the ash;

He wiggled and jumped and got up like a shot,
Came over and said, "Man those cinders are hot!";

His stomach it shook like a bowl full of jelly,
For a moment I thought it was dear old aunt Nelly;

His nose like a cherry, his ears like two jugs,
I was worried that this guy just might be on drugs;

His language was foul, his jokes they were crass,
So I opened the door and threw him out on his ass;

But then as I turned, boy was I ever surprised;
I saw what he'd bought me, or so I surmised;

For there in the corner right under the tree,
Was some brand new sheet music and a case of O.V.;

I turned to say thank-you but found he had gone,
He was not in the garden and not on the lawn;

And just when I thought that he couldn't get far,
I realized the old goat had stolen the car;

Off in the distance he said with a wheeze,
"I hated to do it but you left me the keys!";

I smiled and laughed for this much I could savour,
For I'd just sold the car to my idiot neighbour;

And once more he called as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and don't drive when you're tight!"

Thank you for everything, Dad. We love and miss you.

OK... so did you ever notice how every time you spend 4 days alone in the woods and you make it out without a scratch or even a mosquito bite, and you're feeling all peaceful and relaxed and at one with the universe, you're not home 20 minutes and unloading the back of your truck when you slam your right shin into the trailer hitch... and amid the flashing white stars around you, your fists clench, your teeth grit, your body tenses and every "mean, nasty and ugly" word you ever read, heard, uttered or even imagined ("Wait... is #*&%#@!!! even a word??? Oh what the heck? It works!") goes tearing through your brain.... and eventually it passes and you keep working, surprised you're not even limping and it doesn't hurt more than it does... and almost an hour later, when you're finished and getting undressed to take your first hot shower in days, you see a lump on your shin the size of Rhode Island... and the first image that pops into your head is John Merrick yelling "I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!!!... in fact, it literally looks like a second knee on your right leg... so you spend the rest of the evening keeping it elevated and icing it on and off, alternating between a blue gel pack and a bag of frozen peas.... and when you go to bed, you keep the gel pack on while you read and then take it off before you go to sleep... and then you wake up around 3AM and decide to check your shin and the swelling has gone down quite a bit... but since you still have several hours before you get up, you decide to ice it again... but the gel pack on the floor is no longer cold so you get up, walk to the kitchen and open the fridge... and after taking a bite of leftover pizza from last night (because... well, you're here and what the heck?), you go into the freezer, grab the bag of frozen peas and take them back to bed with you... but they're all frozen into one big solid ball and well, that won't do... so you lay the bag on the bed to pound it once or twice to break them up, but instead the bag bursts open and suddenly there are frozen peas sprayed all over the bed and rolling onto the floor... and all those words from yesterday come rushing back into your head as you kneel to gather them all up... but suddenly your anger completely vanishes and you can't help laughing to yourself as you think, "gee, I can't remember the last time I pea'd the bed in the middle of the night"???

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

For all of my life, my brain has played a soundtrack. At all times, in all places, I hear music going through my head, from the moment I awaken in the morning until I go to sleep at night. I can only shut it off by listening to other music, watching a movie, etc. but it soon starts up again once the outside source of stimulus is removed.

Yesterday I was travelling. When I visited the restroom prior to boarding my flight, the the music in my head suddenly switched tracks from "I've Been Everywhere Man" (that got really old after the first hour. Oy!) to "Africa" by Toto. "That's odd", I thought to myself, "the music in my head usually doesn't switch tracks unless something has changed around me." I finished my business, cleaned up, stood up, and turned around to flush.

Then I saw it. There, emblazoned on the porcelain, was the word "TOTO". The manufacturer of the toilet. "Nice job, brain, funny, hah-hah," I thought to myself.

The song in my head came to an abrupt halt. Silence, for just one moment. Blessed silence. Rare for me. Then I realized. My brain was giving me time to digest the previous joke. Waiting for me to think I'd arrived at the punch line. Pausing for a beat before it delivered the next one. "Africa" started over again, telling me exactly why the DJ deciding songs in my head had picked this exact moment, this exquisite situation, this exact set of circumstances to deliver the internal Dad Joke of the year:

"Doodoo doo-doo doodoo do dooooooooo...."

I had been driving for a few years and had just moved off to college.

I was on my way back home to visit and it got dark during my drive. My headlights and radio worked but my dash lights were not coming on. When I got home I asked my dad about it and he said he'd go take a look. He went outside then comes back in the house just a few minutes later.

Me: "Did you find out what the problem is?"

Dad: "I think so."

Me: "Well, what was it?"

Dad: "I'll have to show you tomorrow, if I'm right then we're going to have fun working on your truck all morning."

We wait until morning, and dad wakes me up to go work on my truck. We go outside and he has me walk him through the entire problem again. Which lights were working and which were not, has me start the truck a few times and has me do the same troubleshooting I did the night before. I was getting frustrated and told him I tried absolutely everything.

Then he says "I think there's one thing you forgot." He points at a knob by the steering wheel. I looked at where he was pointing and it hit me. It's the damned the dash-light dimmer switch, and it was set to it's lowest (dimmest) position. When I looked back up at him he just had the biggest grin on his face. He then went into a full explanation on how this knob worked, knowing full well that I already knew what that knob did. Which, by the way, I'm sitting on the driver's seat and he's standing at the driver's side door. So I had no way to walk away from this embarrassing moment. All I could do was look down at the steering wheel and listen to him enjoying his joke.

Bonus story #1:

I'm in my 30s and one of my friends is a 74 year old guy that I play pool with. He always asks me what I've been up to, and one time I told him I met a girl.

He got excited and said "Do you have any pictures of her?" So I showed him a few pictures of us together.

Old man: "She's beautiful! She sounds like a keeper."

Then he leans in with a grin and says "Do you have any naked pictures of her?"

Me: "No way!"

Old man: "Do you want to see some?"

Bonus story #2:

That same old man was at our friend's wedding. He's sitting at the table with his wife and a bunch of other people. The conversation is about how they have been married for 50+ years. He says "I don't know how she's put up with me for this many years. But I've always told her that she can leave whenever she wants to, cause I'm comin' with her."

His wife explained that she has heard all of his jokes so

There was a boy in high school named Bonnie. As you can imagine, he was bullied and picked on because of his strange name. This lead to social anxiety and a few other issues, but there was one girl who helped him through all of his pain. He had a huge crush on this girl, and after weeks of psyching himself up, he asked her to the school dance coming up.

Much to his delight, he said yes, and off to the dance they went. They had a great time and shortly after, started dating. They spent a lot of time together, calling, texting and always hanging out. They were meant for each other. They continued dating after high school, into college. On their graduation day, he proposed to her on the stage. He was nervous about asking her in public like this, but as he got down on one knee, her face lit up, tears formed in her eyes. He asked her to marry him, she said yes and the crowd cheered.

Fast forward a few years, they've bought their own house, and she's now pregnant with their first child. In the delivery room, Bonnie is standing by her side, their newborn child in her arms.

"I love you so much, hon." Bonnie told his wife, holding one of her hands. "You can name our baby girl anything you wise." he told her.

"Love. I want to name her Love." she replied, looking into his eyes. Bonnie was surprised by the strange name, and at first hesitant to agree, but he told her she could name their daughter anything. He nods in agreement and they carry on with their lives.

Fourteen years later, as with what happened with Bonnie, Love was picked on in high school for her strange name. One day, Love came home crying.

"What's wrong, Love?" Bonnie asked her worriedly.

"I hate you! Why did you give me such a stupid name?!" she screamed at him. She was furious. She was tired of the teasing and the mockery in high school. In a fit of rage, she pulled out Bonnie's handgun she had found in his night stand. She pulled the trigger and a bullet passed into Bonnie's chest.

Love panicked and ran away, and Bonnie's wife came after hearing the gun shot. She ran to Bonnie's side, picking his head up in her hands. She asked him what had happened.

"Shot through the heart... And you're to blame..." He said, weakly. "You gave Love... A bad name."

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

I got my kids with this one. While driving through the neighborhood looking at Christmas decorations, we passed an unusual light display.

Kid: Why is there a banana sitting in a chair?

Me: What, do you expect the banana to stand up all night?

(Note: I have no idea why there was a decoration that looked like a banana sitting in a chair)

There was a video of a bunch of high schoolers dancing on a stage which collapsed. In the comments I just said "The kids are all alright... they're just going through a stage.". People responded with more puns and calling me dad, and one person gilded me.

Success?