A list of puns related to "B Town"
Dad: "Did you know that the people who live in this town aren't allowed to be buried in that cemetery?"
Me: "Oh, why?"
Dad: "Cuz they're still alive."
I turned at the next exit and found that there was a whole town around it.
Shops, restaurants, even churches devoted to this pickle.
When I finally found the museum holding this legendary pickle, I discovered it was closed.
Dismayed, I went back to the interstate.
I just never saw what the big dill was.
.....if cowboy architects had just made their towns big enough for everyone.
Well, its all over town.
"Welcome to the towns greatest cheese shop. We have all that you might want. So, what will it be?" asks the clerk.
"Nacho cheese" responds the man
Suddenly angry, the clerk shouts at the man: "Then why the fuck are you here!"
At a point he turned to me and said "we're near the dead center of this town."
"What makes you think that?"
He points past me and I turn to see a sign for the city cemetery.
It took him three days to make it to the closest town. To his dismay, nobody in that town had a horse for sale. So he started walking to the next town. After three days the man, exhausted, started asking around and looking for a horse for sale.Again, nobody could help him.He did,however,stumbled upon a place that sold horses but the man in charge was fresh out.
"Sold my last one just yesterday,"he said."I do, however, have a brother that sells horses. He's about a day's walk west.He owns a corral. He might have a horse to sell you."
So, once again, he sets foot West to the next town and finds the mans brother.
"I heard you might have a horse for sale, he asks."
"Well, I have one, but he don't look so good."he replies.
"I don't care. I've been walking for darn near a week and I'm tired and exhausted. I'll take him."
So after the man pays for the horse, he hops on him takes off and the horse hits a tree and stops.
"Hey,"the man says." I think you sold me a blind horse.Fact is, I'm sure of it!"
"Sir, I told you he don't look so good."the man fires back.
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡It’s all over town.
It’s all over town.
I made a mental note to pick up more detergent next time I'm in town.
Three guys are drinking in a bar when a drunk comes in, staggers up to the counter, and points at the guy in the middle, shouting, "Your mom's the best sex in town!" Everyone expects a fight, but the guy ignores him, so the drunk wanders off and bellies up to the bar at the far end. Ten minutes later, the drunk comes back, points at the same guy, and says, "I just did your mom, and it was sw-eeeeet!" Again, the guy refuses to take the bait, and the drunk goes back to the far end of the bar. Ten minutes later, he comes back and announces, "Your mom liked it!" Finally, the guy interrupts. "Go home, dad, you're drunk.”
Me: Why did the chicken cross the road?
Friend: Why?
Me: To visit the town idiot.
A few minutes later...
Me: Knock, Knock.
Friend: Who’s there?
Me: The Chicken
You moan now but I suspect you are already planning to use this one.
DAD: I was just listening to the radio on my way in to town, apparently an actress just killed herself.
MOM: Oh my! Who!?
DAD: Uh, I can't remember... I think her name was Reese something?
MOM: WITHERSPOON!!!!!???????
DAD: No, it was with a knife...
I was arrested for speaking out of line. I was protesting against the injustices facing our community, the harsh taxes and oppressions that have faced my community for years. The cruel and unusual punishments especially. Our town is small and insular, so outside influence is heavily resisted by our small town government, but despite that, my friends and I have pushed on, resisting our mistreatment and misery. But as you know, I was arrested. Surprisingly, I wasn't jailed or executed. I was beaten. They had us in a row, lines up facing our tormentors. The would-be executioners merely thrust their fists upon us. It was brutal. While there, I though to myself, "Huh, I guess this is the punchline."
One day, a man went to Juan's house looking to hire him for a week.
His wife answered the door.
"Sure..." his wife said. "It will cost you $500."
"That much?"
"But you're getting my husband and his otter. They bring up more clams than anyone else in town."
"I just want Juan. I'll hire him alone for $350." the man countered.
"Sorry..." she shrugged. "You can't have Juan without the otter."
The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave.
Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.
When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."
He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."
So the magistrate kept listening, "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."
Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate.
He stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."
(Lewis) Hamilton
Stirling (Moss)
Ayr Town Centre!!!
She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.
When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.
The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:
Ms. Smith,
I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.
Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!
It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share. I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.
Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.
Sincerely,
Pastor Kurt Meier
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."
It was all over town.
My friend owns a greenhouse and was trying to drum up sales for valentine's day. She put out a bunch of posters all over town - in the park, outside city hall, and even in a few convenience stores and restaurants. Just about everyone was incredibly helpful and gave her permission. However, the animal sanctuary owner refused outright and asked her to leave. She was very sad, but in the end, she came to understand that...
>!Only zoo can prevent florist fliers.!<
Yes son I do.
Me: Well he's back in town and he's looking for you
Once upon a time, there was a small desert village with a single well on the outskirts of the town. One morning, a woman went to the well to fetch water for the day. The lady was crying and the well heard this. A voice came from the well and asked “what’s wrong?”
The lady stopped sobbing and asked the well, in utter disbelief, “you can talk?”
“Yes” the well said, “long ago, the witch living in this town gave life to me so I could protect the towns people”
“Alas” the woman said, “I am the daughter of that witch. She lived in peace with the town for many years, but the new mayor, who is a violent and hateful man, riled the townspeople up against her. The town burnt my mom at the stake! I am still young and do not know much magic. I tried to curse the town, but failed, and now I fear I may never avenge my mother.”
“Do not be afraid” the well said, “I will take care of this.”
The next morning the mayor was going to the well to fetch water when he heard an odd noise. He peered over the edge to look down as far as he could when an impossibly long arm shot up at him. The arm grabbed the mayor and dragged him down into the depths of the well. There was a horrible crunching sound and the mayor was never seen again. The townsfolk apologized to the witch’s daughter and everyone lived happily ever after.
See moral above for the pun...
We had a friend in town this weekend whose flight was this afternoon, so she was staying at the house for a while after my wife and I left for work. About halfway through my commute I was overtaken by a terrible sense of dread and panic that I forgotten to flush the toilet and our friend was going to come face to face with a semi-fresh dookie when she went to the restroom.
I was so mortified at this that I preemptively texted her to warn her and requested that she please, for both our sake's, flush the toilet prior to lifting the lid. We may never know whether I needed to send that text-- it was a real Schrodinger Scat situation.
This is sort of a TIFU, but I have no idea if I actually did and I'm not sure she would have the heart to tell me anyway.
I’m the most illegible bachelor in town.
I heard on the news there was a guy in town stealing the wheels of police cars. The cops are working tirelessly to catch him
A comedian backed by the Mafia was doing a show in New York. In the audience was group of foreign religious leaders, in town for a UN conference. Oddly, that group was very vocal in their heckling of the poor comic. Particularly vociferous was the Hindu leader from India.
Noticing this from offstage, the Mafia Don told one of his thugs to make his way to their section and menacingly "encourage" them that they should "shaddap already".
The thug asked the Don if there was one of the group who should receive... "extra-strength" encouragement. The Don replied "Yes. Weigh down upon the Swami ribber".
My morning walk with the dog was cut short today. There's a park we usually wander through so she can sniff and explore, but today we couldn't get in because the path was blocked by an army of angry geese.
I was telling my mom about this and she mentioned there are geese at the river where she and a friend take their dogs, too. She said they must all be in town for some kind of conference. Then she paused for half a second and continued:
I bet it's a religious thing. They're here to preach the goosepel.
(To satisfy the rule: that's a play on gospel.)
It was all over town..
It’s all over town.
Me: I was just listening to the radio on my way in to town, apparently an actress just killed herself.
Friend: Seriously!? Who!?
Me: Uh, I can't remember... I think her name was Reese something?
Friend: WITHERSPOON!!??
Me: No, it was with a knife...
If only the cowboy architects had made the towns big enough for everyone else.
My dad said in a dead serious quiet voice "I know something you don't know about this place. The people living in this town aren't allowed to be buried here."
And I was really confused, so I asked why.
He said "because they are still alive."
it's all over town.*
The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave.
Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.
When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."
He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."
So the magistrate kept listening, "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."
Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate.
He stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."
DAD: I was just listening to the radio on my way in to town, apparently an actress just killed herself.
MOM: Oh my! Who!?
DAD: Uh, I can't remember... I think her name was Reese something?
MOM: WITHERSPOON!!!!!???????
DAD: No, it was with a knife...
It's all over town.
It's all over town
DAD: I was just listening to the radio on my way in to town, apparently an actress just killed herself.
MOM: Oh my! Who!?
DAD: Uh, I can't remember... I think her name was Reese something?
MOM: WITHERSPOON!!!!!???????
DAD: No, it was with a knife...
One day, a man went to Juan's house looking to hire him for a week.
His wife answered the door.
"Sure..." his wife said. "It will cost you $500."
"That much?"
"But you're getting my husband and his otter. They bring up more clams than anyone else in town."
"I just want Juan. I'll hire him alone for $350." the man countered.
"Sorry..." she shrugged. "You can't have Juan without the otter."
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