At a Glance Puns

Cyclops growled, "My life is just a big joke to you, isn’t it!?"

Rüdoff was one of the best fighters in his village and a terrifying opponent on the battlefield. He would often return from battle, so drenched in his opponent's blood that he became known as "Rüdoff det røde", meaning "the red".

After years of wars, and regular battles, Rüdoff finally grew old, and decided that his fighting days were behind him. He became the best farmer that his village had ever known and people would travel from.far away to ask him about his crops and to predict the weather, as he was quite proficient at it.

One morning he wokeup, and looked out the window, the skys were clear and the sun was shining, but Rüdoff could feel the pressure in his old bones and battle scars

"It will Rain soon", he said to his wife while she made breakfast. She glanced outside and told him he was nuts, it was bright and sunny.

He simply hiked up his pants and reminded her:

Rüdoff The Red knows rain, dear.

We got to talking and I found out she worked as a stunt double on some pretty big name movie sets. She looked to be at least 10 years my senior but very fit and attractive and we both seemed to really be hitting it off.

Because all the immediate family in the local area had thrown a smaller, more private celebration for my father a few days prior, I didn't really feel a need to stick around any longer, so I asked the woman if she was interested in sharing some drinks with me at the nearby Hilton where I was staying. She happily accepted.

Suddenly, I turned towards the sound of my father's voice cheerfully calling out the name "Andra" (pronounced ON-druh) and my own as he approached. Andra, the woman I had been speaking with, turned towards him, glanced quickly back at me, then looked back again at my father and with a disconcerted look on her face exclaimed, "Oh brother!"

And that's when I realized the double, Aunt Andra.

Glancing at the car he was astounded to see that the elderly woman behind the wheel was knitting

The trooper crank down his window and yelled to the driver “pull over”

“No!” yelled the woman “it’s a cardigan”

When I glanced over the assignment , I noticed one of the problems was missing.

I waved down the teacher, and he came over and said, "Everything looking good?"

I said, "I don't see a problem here."

He looked at me and said, "Great!" and walked away.

I glanced over and noticed that they were quite attractive. A little on the larger side, but that never stopped me before. So, yogurt cup in hand, I boldly approached their table.

“Excuse me,” I said, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and I noticed your lovely accents. Are you two ladies from Scotland by any chance?”

They immediately bristled at my question, obviously offended, and one of them snapped at me, “It’s Wales!”

“No offense intended,” I replied. “Please allow me to try again...are you two whales from Scotland?”

The man orders a Big Mac and a large fries. His wife orders a single cheeseburger. When the woman finishes her burger she glances at her husband. He has finished his burger and is moving onto the fries.

Still hungry, she looks at the fries and asks, 'Do you mind if I have a couple?'

He sighs and says, 'I suppose so,'

So she reaches over and takes a handful. The husband turns to her and asks, 'Is that a German couple?'

Confused, she responds, 'What is a German couple?'

He says, 'nein' as he slides his food out of her reach.

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

"Hey, barkeep!" he says, struggling to keep control of his quarry. "Any room for me and my friends?"

The bartender smiles and sets down some plastic cups. The man plops his friends inside, but the cups are too small.

"Um...barkeep?" the man says, pulling them out again. The bartender reaches for some larger mugs, but as he places them next to the cups, it becomes obvious that even these will be too small for the pigs.

Seeing the man struggle to continue holding them, the bartender runs to the kitchen for help.

A cook emerges, holding several large measuring cups. "Sorry, I just used these to make a batch of cheese dip, but they're all yours!"

The man carefully plops each pig into its respective gooey yellow cup.

Arms exhausted, breathing heavily, he drops into a stool at the end of the bar, between his tiny friends and a beautiful girl.

He glances her way, gasping coyly. "Hey...I'm...Tom."

She smiles, having watched the whole ordeal. "Hi Tom, I'm Liz. And if you don't mind me asking..." she laughs, looking over his shoulder, "what was that all about?"

He glances back at the bar. "Yeah...sorry," he pants. "I wanted...to impress you, but...it turned out to be...a pretty cheesy...pig-cup line."

She wasn’t unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing. She would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around, then speak to them.

Generally, the people would respond negatively and she would wander off, but occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money for something she carried in her bag.

The couple assumed she was selling drugs and debated calling the cops, but since they didn’t know for sure they just continued to watch her.

After a couple of weeks the wife asked, “Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?”

He hadn’t and said so. Then she said, “Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she’s really doing.”

Well, the plan went off without a hitch, and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man walked up the beach and met his wife at the road. “Well, is she selling drugs?” she asked excitedly.”

“No, she’s not.” he said, enjoying this probably more than he should have.

“Well, what is it, then?” his wife fairly shrieked.

The man grinned and said. “Her name is Sally and she’s selling batteries.”

“Batteries?” cried the wife.

“Yes,” he replied. “She sells C cells by the Seashore.”

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

He picks up the ketchup bottle, glances at it and gives a hearty chuckle before slathering his brat in ketchup.

Puzzled, the woman watches as the next customer, a young girl, walks up to order her hot dog.

As she takes the container of relish, she bursts into a fit of giggles and walks off with her food, still laughing merrily.

A middle-aged man steps up next. Shoveling sauerkraut onto his hot dog, he laughs uproariously and walks away grinning.

When she reaches the front of the line, the woman asks the hot dog vendor,

“Excuse me, sir, but why does everyone laugh when they get their hot dogs?”

“It’s simple, ma’am.” he says, handing her a piping-hot sausage. “I’m surprised you haven’t discovered for yourself.”

Glancing at the mustard, the woman lets loose a peal of laughter.

“Ya see, ma’am? The real_joke’s always in the condiments!"

At work, there was a metal catering tray filled to the brim with cold water sittin' around for no reason so I asked the receptionist/coworker, who has said repeatedly that she just can't stand me, if I should dump it. She looked at me, smiled and said "If you can." I responded "without spilling it?" In a 'of course I'm not going to spill but dont rule it out' way. She said "Yes." Silently giving me good luck. Fortunately, I done did the deed and no brand new flooring was harmed. I then proceeded to google water jokes. After that, I walked up to her desk, glanced into her soul for the slightest moment while greeting, "Hey Sarah" , then I swiftly looked downwards as she asked, "Yeah?" I THEN told her this, "I don't know about you but unlike that cold water I just dumped". I pause, regain eye contact and finished with, "boiling water will be mist."

They see a lot of animals such as giraffes, lions etc. Finally the come across a cage with alligators, next to them they see a sign that says there will be a show with the alligators later. They decide that they will come back later to see it. Before walking away dad glances at the alligators and says: "See you later alligator"

Glances at his watch, taps it, keeps walking and says "Still ticking. What a scam"

On a daily/hourly basis he reels them off. It's amazing. He also photoshops pictures (using Microsoft Paint, because he likes the challenge) of himself into various ridiculous and punny situations that might be the most comically genius things I've ever seen. If you're interested I'll find some for you guys.

My dad is really proud of this one. It's the only joke he's ever told that's been funny enough to make somebody laugh so hard that they spit out of their nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for this joke, so let me give you some context first:

He's been in a motorcycle accident (hit and run by an illegal immigrant), and had to have most of his vertebrae fused. They use titanium rods to hold your back from bending, so as you can imagine its kind of a major operation. His doctor prescribed a year (or longer if needed) of massage therapy, which he was thankful for. Twice a week he went in to a small clinic for a few hours at a time, and usually had the same masseuse. Let's call her Marge.

After four months of therapy they of course got to know each other very well. He was always faithful to my mother, but he was good friends with Marge. Their conversations range all the way from baseball to differentials, and everything stays platonic.

Here's where the story begins:

During a massage, they are having an energetic conversation, the time comes where he turns onto his back so that she can get to his knee ligaments (chainsawed his kneecap a few years prior, doc said may as well get there too). She goes at it like normal, and the conversation continues. Now here comes the part that made my dad wait to tell me this until recently: The "stimulation" in his knee for some reason, on that day out of all others, triggered a reflexive erection. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

The conversation goes quiet. Marge notices, but doesn't say a word. She remains professional. She continues working. My dad is more embarrassed than he's ever been. Several minutes of silence pass, and my dad cant take it anymore.

"Marge," he says, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

He raises his head to look down the table at her. He glances at it, then back to her. With a slight shake of his head he says:

"Wait nevermind, it's only his trunk"

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

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

Me: watches nervously
Mom: glances at Dad
Dad: clenches fists
Mom: "Don't!"
Dad: "Hi, Gay. I'm Dad.

I was sitting on the computer doing some sort of paperwork spreadsheet (I don't remember, this was last week) and my boss brings in four of my coworkers and starts talking about what needs to get done, when it needs to be done, and how it should be done because we're in crunch time. Everyone is serious-faced, including me.

He stops momentarily and rubs his ears, commenting how it hasn't stopped ringing since this morning.

Without missing a beat, I asked him why he hasn't answered it.

I guess it really was that serious because he just glanced at me and then kept talking, and everyone else just gave me the eye.

Felt fucking amazing though!

I got stuck behind a trailer, and when I got close I realized it was full of sheep. When I happened to glance at the license plate, it read "ewesful" this guy is going places. With his sheep.

I couldn't get a picture because driving.

So I treated myself to some new books yesterday from a small local place near me, I decided to stop off at the parents on the way home and the mother had her face in the book bag before I new what was going on.

I'm showing her what I've bought and when opening one of them, I find a small maggot like creature splattered inside one of the covers! The remains of its body on one side, a goopy mess on the other. At this point the father walks past, peers over my shoulder & says 'you know what that is don't you?'. No I replied, thinking I'm going to get some to quality useless dad knowledge laid upon me........'A bookworm' he states! And fully committed to his delivery, walks clear through the kitchen and out to his shed without even a glance back.

Went to Disney for our Honeymoon last week.. We went into the Presidents Hall, and on the floor in the middle of the room is The Great Seal of The United States I take one glance at my new wife... "That's not a seal, that's an eagle!" I got a few groans and a couple of laughs from dads around the room. Im not a dad yet... But I think Ill do just fine.

Edit: http://imgur.com/dV5hb71 is a picture of the actual seal from Disneyworld

This was one of her favorite jokes she loved to tell: One day, a man was walking home after a long day at work. As he waited for a crosswalk signal, he glanced back and noticed a coffin standing down the block. "Odd," he thought, but he ignored it and continued home. He turned the corner and managed to catch a glimpse of the coffin again. This time is was closer to him... like it was following him. He picked up his pace and ran into his apartment complex. The coffin was right behind him. In a fright, he dashed up the stairs to his place, locked the door and barricaded himself in the bathroom. Thud, thud, thud! The coffin was banging on the bathroom door. The man frantically looked for something to defend himself. Just as the coffin busted through the door, the man grabbed some cough syrup from the medicine cabinet, threw it at the coffin ... and the coffin stopped.

So my friend says they know someone with a brilliant sense of beauty. Like, they can spot masterpiece artwork from just a glance. Apparently they work at a bee apiary, and keep bees, so I have no idea how they came across this skill.

But I guess its true what they say. Beauty is in the eye of the bee holder.

We were at the table eating dinner when I glanced at the advertisements for grocery stores. I read the ad wrong and said:

Me: I read that wrong, its gala or pink lady apples, not Lady Gaga apples.

Wife: I dont know about Lady Gaga apples, but I know about Lady Gaga tomatoes.

Me: What?

Wife: Ro-ma, ro-ma-ma.

Her: Can I have they Thyme?

Me: (glances at watch) 7:30

We were sitting at the dinner table tonight celebrating my father-in-law's (FIL) 66th birthday. My mother-in-law (MIL) made his favorite dinner: meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and creamed corn, but since I hate creamed corn they also made peas.

It happened that everyone at the table except for my MIL took peas, and she decided to comment.

MIL: "Wow, I see just about everyone took peas and not creamed corn!"

FIL: "I took a little bit of both."

Me: "Thank you for giving peas a chance."

My wife sighed and I think it went over MIL's head, but FIL and I exchanged knowing dad glances. Today, I am a dad.

Her: Glance at her ring next time you see her.

Me: I'll be a regular Tom Glancy.

I'm sorry. I know where the door is...

The sign said, "No interest for six months."

My dad glanced at it and said, "How do they know that people will be interested after six months?"