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What do you call a cow with a twitch?

Beef jerky.

An old friend i havent heard from in over a year messages me.

Me: what have you been up to?

Her: ive been good being a G

Me: you should try being a person instead of letter

Badum tsss!!

She said shes embarrassed to know me. Im fine with that as i laugh about this.

,,I want a million dollars!'' she screams excited.

The Genie nods. ,,It shall be as you wi-''

,,No!'' interrupts the woman. ,,Such a wish is selfish and petty. No, what I want is for wars to end.'' She drags forth a handy map of the world. ,,See these countries? They are scarred with ancient bloodfeuds. You should show them peace. Yes, that's my wish.''

,,B-but ma'm, that's impossible! Their hearts are so hardened, and I would have to prevent droughts and hunger and disarm all threats...-'' pleas the genie desperately.

,,Very well, since you're so tired, I guess I'll settle for something else. Now... I've been without a man for so long, and my last husband was nothing short of a rat, so I'd like a man. A man that... does the laundry and the dishes and vaccuums the house. He must be gentle in manners but wild and talented in bed, and of course sexy and handsome. He must love me more than anything else in this world and tell me so each day with a bouquet of flowers. But most of all he'll have to understand me. Yes, that's what I want, the perfect man.''

The genie sighs. ,,Just give me the fucking map.'

>!During no nut November.!< Please be gentle, my first dadjoke in English.

Now when I talk I have a weird axe scent.

First post in this sub, be gentle

Some stories have hooks.

This story has a bloody good one.

It's about love—

Or at least marriage.

My marriage.

At heart, it's your typical fish out of water story, but like I said there's a hook.

The hook's in the beginning.

Although it's really the tail end that's most moving—at least now, when our love's drying up.

Understand:

I'm a fisherman, and I caught my wife with another man.

Well, I caught the man first.

I used Craigslist.

But I suppose the details don't really matter. It's enough to know that by the time he was naked in the shed it was too late for him to change his mind.

He broke down easily. He wasn't particularly thick skinned.

That's where the hook came in—

pushed through a fold of flesh on his back.

He wasn't much in the size department, but I didn't intend for him to get hung up on it. Unfortunately, he kept trying to escape, so what choice did I have? Then he seemed quite insecure, so I pierced him with another steel hook just in case.

Like I said:

Bloody good hook.

After he stopped struggling, I took him down and dragged him to my boat. Then we went fishing.

Hold on, though.

I may need to backtrack a little, because you may be wondering how I even knew she was out there.

The answer is: I'd already seen her swimming a few times.

It was love at first sight.

Like many couples nowadays we met on the net.

So back to when I was fishing:

I was in my boat with the Craigslist man with the steel hooks in his back. I had tied a thick rope to one of the hooks, placed the man onto a net, and pushed them both overboard. He splashed and choked, attracting a lot of attention.

I waited for her call.

It came.

She sounded so near to me.

When she swam just close enough to the Craigslist man in the water, I pulled in the net—and there she was: shining, mine to the gills and writhing so enticingly!

I took her ashore.

I placed her in a water tank and told her she would be my wife.

I screwed her—

shut.

For days I watched her bang—

on the glass.

Until one day it happened: the glass cracked, the tank broke open, and with the water she spilled onto the floor.

Now here I am, watching my marriage fall apart.

Her gills are barely stirring.

Her face: dry and still.

It's only her scaly tail that's still gently moving.

I caught my wife with another man. I met her on the net. I thought our love would last forever, but now, listening to her shriek, I realize I was catfished! I wanted to marry a siren—but this thing is nothing

Purée!!!

(I literally just came up with this and am a new dad. Please be gentle)

Certain related tribes in sub-Saharan Africa often raided each other's villages when most folk were herding animals. Sometimes they would take vegetables and water, but more often taking little things, to gently mock each other. It was all in good fun. After a successful raid, the "winning" tribe would celebrate by dancing under the stars, or in one of their large, grass-covered spirit houses.

One day, the Imaqi took their Satari shaman's sceptre. The following day, the Satari not only stole the sceptre back, but also the Imaqi chief's regalia.

It went back and forth, until, on a rare and daring escapade, three Imaqi warriors stole the Santari chief's throne. They put it on display, above their chief's throne in the spirit house.

The Imaqi thought that this was hilarious, and as it was beginning to rain, made merry and danced in the spirit house. Suddenly, the heavy throne on display fell down and killed a number of the dancing revelers.

The moral should be obvious: those who live in grass houses shouldn't stow thrones.

There once was this fella was born with a silver screw in his belly button. His parents, and later himself, searched far and wide trying to find someone that knew how this happened and how to remove it. As he grew older he cared less and less about the "how" and more about the removal. One day in his never-ending search he encountered a wizened woman who said that she knew of a place where you could go and a mysterious force would be able to remove the screw. But, before she provided the location she asked him if this was REALLY something he wanted done and if he knew all the consequences of his desire. The man hastily said that he was 10000% sure and more than well informed of the consequences. So, she gave him the location of the cave and the instructions on how to gain the help of the mysterious force. He was to go to the cave and sleep nude in the cave over night and by the morning his request would be fulfilled. He made his way to the spot with all due haste and followed the instructions to the letter. He did this and fell into a sound sleep. During the night a heavy fog rolled into the cave and a shining silver screwdriver floated into the cave with it. It floated down to the man and gently removed the screw. When the man woke up in the morning and saw the screw on the ground beside him he quickly reached down and felt his belly button. The screw was gone! He sprung up with great joy but the minute he landed after his leap of joy his butt fell off. He froze in horror and started to scream "Why did my butt fall off?" over and over.

The moral of the story is "Don't mess with things you don't understand or you will lose your butt."

Dam it, Jim (Be gentle it’s my cake day)

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

I asked the chef to be gentle while tossing them though. Because they’re tenders.

Had to move back home because he had too many poor scenes

**thought of it on the bus ride home, be gentle haha

If they didn’t, why do we need anti-purse-per-ant

It’s my first time, be gentle.

I just got word

(First joke be gentle)

Okay, so this is my first post, so be gentle there. It s more a funny thing my dad did to mess with us than a dad joke. Our parents explained it to us , so i don t have the dialogues here. When we were little, my brother and I of course asked my parents how do we make babies, because we wanted a little bro or sis and they did not wanted us to get one. So we asked them how babies are made. They explained to us that you need 3 things ; a mother's belly , dad's seeds and a little bit of love. That was cute, they said that daddy had to put his seeds in mummy 's belly with the love. When we asked how, they told us to guess -this is why we thought babies were made by the bellybutton, they did really had fun with us- and then, finally, we asked them why they would not make us a little brother then. My father, had this brilliant idea to mess with us, which we sometimes did not notice, as we were little. He basically told us with a huge smile accros his face :" You know what ? If you find the good seeds, we'll make you one". My mother laughed but we took it seriously. We have apparently searched for hours even going in the basement, searching in mom's gardening seeds, ripping of the labels and bringing them to the parents to ask if these were the good ones . We eventually got fed up, and never asked my parents to have a sibling again.

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.

( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )

Hey everybody,

The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.

Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.

You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.

That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.

So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.

Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:

• You live in a very different timezone to Syd, AU - GMT+10
• You have a good sense of humour
• You're not in this purely to grow your 'net rep
• You're interested in being fair, and maintaining fairness
• You maintain civility in yourself and your responses at all times
• You have a bit of time every day to go through reports, spam, and post comments
• You understand that your moderatorship will initially be a trial, and can be revoked at any time if you aren't being magical and rad
• Some general CSS/subreddit formatting knowledge wouldn't go astray, but is not required

Here's what I am not looking for:

• Strong, cemented opinions about what constitutes a dad joke and what doesn't - everybody's dad and humour is different
• An overzealous post remover - I am not looking for an enforcer, the title moderator implies moderation
• A(nother) dictator - it is my preference that this subreddit be gently guided, and not forcibly ruled, we let the community find itself and we listen to what they say

If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int

He asked to borrow my cordless drill.When I handed it to him I said,"be gentle with him."He said"I will" I said,"I wasn't talking to you."

It had to do an air-rend

^^^first ^^^OC ^^^pun ^^^here ^^^pls ^^^be ^^^gentle

Wife: Hey, your sister's wedding is coming up, what do you wanna get her for a gift?

Me: I have no idea. What do you think she'd like?

Wife: Well, she mentioned to your mom that she could really use a comforter for their new bedroom set

Me: A comforter? Oh, yeah, I got that covered.

Wife: You do?

Me: Yeah! Starts rubbing her arm gently

Wife: Wh-what.. are you doing?

Me: shhhhh... it's okayyyy.

Wife: What? What're you doing?

Me: Being a comforter!

(This was before we got married, and she still brings it up to this day for being the most ridiculous dad joke she's ever heard.)

Why shouldn't you make fun of a paleontologist?

Because you will get Jurasskicked.

[Please be gentle, lol]

After a long and grueling day with our 2-year-old son mastering the art of the tantrum, my wife and I finally hit the hay.

Me: "Ahhh, bed."

Wife: "It's the beddiest bed in the world."

Me: "I couldn't have said it any bedder myself."

• First dadjoke post for me, be gentle. :)

As I'm sure many of you can remember (or not), senior prom was one of the most exciting events of our pre-real world existence. However, in order to get to the actual event, there were three significant steps that needed to be taken care of:

1. Sober up enough before actually getting to the venue
2. Find a date who wasn't even weirder than you were
3. Rent a tuxedo This last part posed quite a bit of a problem to me, mostly because tuxedos can be very expensive to come by. Luckily enough for me, a local formalwear shop had a great deal going on; they would give you massive discounts and even hefty prizes for referring as many of your friends as possible to their business. Eager as I was to save a few bucks, I proceeded to text everyone in my phone's contact list. Almost every one of them neglected to respond to my pitiful pleas of financial assistance, not wanting to get caught up in this scam that I myself had meandered into. Finally, my token black friend, Malik, unwillingly took my bait. He tentatively responded, asking more about what he could get out of the deal for himself. After much persistence on my part, he finally declined, trying his best to let me down gently. As my poor little heart finally broke completely in two, I decided to alleviate the social tension, replying to him, "Alright man, well, suit yourself."

Our school offers "gently used" semi-formal wear for kids who can't afford to get new things for every dance. It was originally called "my sister's closet" but then It started carrying boys' clothes too, and they wanted a name that didn't sound like a boy might be borrowing his sister's clothes for a formal dance.

"We want something catchy" a student said. "Like...my cousin's closet."

I piped in. "How about the small pox closet? There's not many things more catchy than small pox!"

Single word reaction after an exasperated groan: "no."

A Brazilian! Please be gentle

A few years ago, my dad and I were building an addition onto his house. He rented a tool from the hardware store and had to return it, so he asked me to come with him and we would get some breakfast. There was a Burger King nearby, so we decided to stop there to eat.

When we go to the drive-through, we realize the restaurant was closed down, so he drove around the building to get back on the highway. As we were passing the dumpsters, he stopped the car, backed it up, and pointed towards the ground near the dumpster. I looked for a few seconds, trying to see what he was pointing at.

Then... I saw it.

It was a giant, 12+ inch black dildo, standing upright next to the dumpster. It propped itself up on its fake dildo balls, gently swaying in the breeze.

I was astonished. I couldn't even imagine what events in the universe had to line-up so as to end up with that giant dildo meticulously placed next to the dumpster at a closed-down Burger King. I couldn't even begin to fathom why it was there.

My dad, with perfect timing, then shouted "GAY TIMES WILL BE HAD TONIGHT!" and sped out of the parking lot.

We ended up going to Denny's.

Little background: I was standing on a roughly-3' rock wall along a sidewalk/eating area on campus. My friend was sitting at a table next to this.

We were engaging in a lively discussion when a girl walks by and sternly asks; "Are you talking down to her?" - and starts laughing maniacally.

Having a solid appreciation for dad jokes, I laugh heartily too and gently whisper "be my dad?" as she walks away...

He showed up to one of our practices with a soft cast on his wrist. He told our coach, "I won't be able to play for a few days, I have a hairline fracture."

I gently ruffled my hand through the front of his wavy hair and said, "Oh my god, will you be okay?"