Breakfast Time Puns

"Well son, just take away their little brooms."

Waitress: How would you like your toast?

Dad: Uh.... toasted?

BONUS: DINNER TIME!

Waitress:What would you like for a drink?

Dad: Do you have sprite?

Waitress: Yes we do!

Dad: That's good to know. I'll take a coke.

I couldn't fit that N

Because you're supposed to eat 3 squared meals a day.

Kristen: Sure!

Christen: thank you

Kris: Anytime

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

Today I have outdone myself. When asking my sister how her day went, she said that she learned how to cook an omelet today and she said she did really well on it. I then said "next time, omelet you cook breakfast." I swear the look of disgust on her face could turn milk sour, and I couldn't be any prouder of myself.

Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.

To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.

I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.

Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.

You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.

The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.

The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.

Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.

Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.

But so far, I've quit cold turkey.

His car crashes into a tree, and he escapes unhurt though his car is badly damaged. However, he needs to find somewhere to stay overnight. The man wanders alnog the road until he comes across a monastery. He knocks on the door, and a friendly monk answers.

Man: I've crashed my car and need a place to stay tonight, might I have one of your rooms?

Monk: of course, come right this way.

The monk shows the man to a room, and the man goes to sleep. At midnight, the man is awoken by a loud thumping on the ceiling. He thinks nothing of it and goes to bed, sleeping soundly the rest of the night.

The next day at breakfast he asks one of the monks about the thumping. The monk replies,"sorry, I can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man figures that that's a pretty fair response, and goes to try and fix his car.

After working on the car all day, the man returns to the monastery and asks to stay another night. The monks of course oblige, and the man goes back to the same room. This night, he is awakened by the same thumping, this time even louder. He wonders about it and eventually drifts off to sleep.

The next day, the man continues to work on the car, and needs to stay just one more night to complete it. The monks are happy to give him a room, but the man asks to me moved to a different room so he won't hear the thumping. The man goes to bed but is awakened by even louder thumping.

He decides to go investigate, and climbs the stairs, only to find a locked iron door, with the thumping coming from behind it. Unsatisfied, he goes back to bed.

The next morning, he asks the lead monk about the thumping. The lead monk replies,"sorry, can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man, filled with curiosity, asks the leader how to become a monk. The leader gives him 3 tasks: the first, to circumnavigate the globe, to learn about culture, the second task, to cut an entire field with scissors to learn patience, and the third, to memorize the entire monk book, to learn discipline.

The man completes all the tasks, and the leader takes him up to the iron door and pulls out a key. He opens the door to reveal the Monk's greatest secret.

If you're wondering what it is, I'm sorry, I can't tell you, you aren't a monk.

... and there was a gorgeous redhead sitting at the next table. He had been checking her out since he sat down, but lacked the nerve to talk with her.

Suddenly she sneezed, and her glass eye came flying out of its socket towards the man. He reflexively reached out, grabbed it out of the air, and handed it back.

'Oh my, I am so sorry,' the woman said, as she popped her eye back in place. 'Let me buy your dinner to make it up to you.'

They enjoyed a wonderful dinner together, and afterwards they went to the theater followed by drinks. They talked, they laughed, she shared her deepest dreams and he shared his. She listened to him with interest.

After paying for everything, she asked him if he would like to come to her place for a nightcap and stay for breakfast. They had a wonderful, wonderful time.

The next morning, she cooked a gourmet meal with all the trimmings. The guy was amazed. Everything had been so incredible!

'You know,' he said, 'you are the perfect woman. Are you this nice to every guy you meet?'

'No,' she replies. 'You just happened to catch my eye.'

So my dad's name is Jay and my mom's name is Kay. The first time they were introduced, it was obvious their names were destined for dad joke immortality:

Mom's friend: Jay, this is my friend Kay! I thought you two should meet!

Mom: Hi.

Dad: Ya know, if we get married and have kids... we could name them Ellie, Emmie, and Opie. We could eat alphabet cereal for breakfast and alphabet soup for dinner! :) ;)

Mom: ..... uh..

30 years later and they did get married, and did get their "Emmie"! (my sister's name is Emily)

I was talking to my dad about my new job at McDonald's. While telling him about a customer who comes in every morning and always complains about their breakfast sandwich. My dad suggested:

"Next time he comes in, offer him an Egg Mc-nothin'!"

God....

Wife finally agreed to cook breakfast and asked "What kind of eggs do you want?" (How do I want them cooked?).

After pondering for a moment I responded: "I think Chicken eggs today".

By that time she was slicing a bagel with a knife and with a furrowed brow made threatening motions toward me with the knife... :-D

So we were at the mall today, grabbed lunch in the food court. My wife had gotten a soda with her lunch, when her phone went off to remind her to drink a glass of water (she has it set to go off like 4 times a day). Remembering that she had milk at breakfast, I commented to my daughter, 'Man, Mommy is drinking everything BUT water today isn't she?'

'Daddy, butt water sounds DISGUSTING.'

Sigh.

I'm male and when people ask me about my family I tell them I have four brothers. "No sisters?" "Nope. I'm the only girl."

When I fry an egg for breakfast as I'm cracking the egg into the pan I say "Whoa! This pan is hot enough to fry an egg!" Although this one gets a laugh every time it doesn't really count because I'm usually the only person in the room.

My dad, every time he is offered something he doesn't want, will respond with: "No thanks, I'm driving."

For example, having breakfast at a cafe and the waitron asks my dad if he would like a newspaper, to which he responds without hesitation, "no thanks, I'm driving."

The next time you are cooking breakfast for your family and are making biscuits or pancakes or something requiring flour hold the flour up in your hand and yell I have the flour like he man. Plus points if your family gets the reference.

One morning while sitting down for breakfast, my Dad looks up, points at my waist and exclaims, "What are those two things coming out of your butt?!" My 6 yr. old self wheels around like a dog chasing it's tail looking for said objects. nothing. I ask what they were and he says he's not sure, but that I will be fine. After school he get's home from work. Me: "Dad, do you those things coming out of my butt still?" Dad: "Yup" Repeat action and conversation from the morning again. And repeat again then next day, and the next ... 7 days in total I'm getting pissed my Dad see's them all the time but my Mom and older Sister don't. I surely don't see two things coming out of my butt. I'm starting to freak out and cry. Why can I not see these two things coming out of my butt, I'm sobbing, blubbering gibberish and spittle running down my chin to my shirt. I'm gasping for air and crying and just about to blow a gasket (I'm 6 mind you ...) my mom finally had enough, "Dammit Craig ... TELL HIM NOW!!" I get all calmed down and start getting excited, I'm going to find out! he sits me down and tells me this ... "I have told you all week that you had two things coming out of your butt?" That's why I'm losing my shit, Dad "Well, I was talking about your legs. You're legs come out of your butt and you have two of them." all the while looking me straight in the eyes, he starts a famously wonderful shit-grin. Mom loses it again, throws her arms up in utter frustration/disappointment/disbelief. Sister virtually pissing herself in laughter. My dad gets up, smiling that smile, he walks away with a pat on the head. "Pay better attention next time."

groan.

TLDR: I was 6, told I have 2 things coming out of my butt for a week. finally told that they where my legs. facepalm and groaner.

edit: - waiting for the right moment to pull this one on my 5 and 7 yr old ...

After a great steak & eggs + side dishes breakfast...

Wife: Man. I'm so great. Cooking requires more creativity and skill than baking. You're just reading measurements with baking. With baking, all you need is time - a lot of time.

Me: What about basil or rosemary?

Wife: Huh?

Me: Basil or rosemary?

Wife: Huh?

A few seconds later, she gets it, sighs, then laughs. A few more seconds later...

Wife: I can't believe you're still laughing at your own joke.

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

Here is an example!

Every morning the Trids got up, ate breakfast, and marched over the bridge to Tridville to work. One morning, a troll moved in under the bridge. When the Trids tried to cross the bridge, the troll climbed up and kicked the Trids all the way back to their homes. The Trids decided to take the day off in hopes that the troll would go away, but the next morning the troll once again climbed up onto the bridge and kicked them back to their homes. In desperation, the Trids decided to ask the Rabbi for help. So the next morning the Rabbi walked across the bridge several times but never saw the troll. He went home believing the troll had indeed moved on. When the Trids tried to cross the bridge afterward, the troll climbed up again and kicked the Trids back home. The Rabbi returned to the bridge and called out for the troll. When the troll appeared, the Rabbi asked why he was allowed to cross the bridge but not the Trids. The troll replied, "Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids."

I (husband) am good at making egg dishes for breakfast. Me and the wifey were talking about the first time I met her family, when I made them an omelette with goat cheese and spinach. They were all very impressed.

Wifey: "My parents never cooked like that when I was growing up. For them, it was just egg on the pan, egg on the plate."

Me: "I can see how that would be unpleasant, especially if they didn't crack the shells first."

Sir! Up, please.

(I use this one every time we have pancakes for breakfast. EVERY TIME.)

One of our twins was up all night, going from 0 to full on screaming. However, after about the 5th time, something popped in my head, and just wouldn't leave. So, this morning, after breakfast, I land this one on her.

>Me: So, I think Twin1 should hang with Bob Marley some time.

>Her: Oh?

>Me: Yeah, he was a wailer all night.

>Her: Exhausted silence.

Making breakfast, say to my fiancée "I'm making puncakes, I think you'd batter have some." After she rolled her eyes at me, I complete the trifecta with "sorry, I do waffle on some times"

[Having breakfast with my folks]

Dad: "This is my favorite day of the year."

Me: "Oh yeah 'cause it's your birthday tomorrow right?"

Dad: "No, because today is the one day out of the year where the date is a command!"

Me: "Oh god, not this agai-"

Dad: [cutting me off with a booming impression of a Roman centurion] "MARCH FORTH OR THOU SHALT BE FIFTH! And that's me I'm March 5th."

Me: "Walked right into that one again.."

Dad: "Same time next year?"

Coworker: (something like) It's still really bad in Syria right now.

Boss: Yeah, probably would have a hard time trying to find a good bowl of Syria for breakfast.

(Groans)

I would be sitting at the breakfast table eating my breakfast. He would grab a banana from the counter. Every time, EVERY time, he would put it against my back like a gun and say, "One false move and the monkey gets it!"

Facebook post:

We've only been dating a little less than 6 months, in high school, and she's already serving me dinner for the 4th time.

His comment (Father of 4 kids):

I've heard of second breakfast, but fourth dinner? Aren't you full yet?

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.

We were doing early morning review sessions for AP euro. I was running late and instead of cooking breakfast, I just grabbed a package of ramen noodles to eat in review.

While in review, I was happily munching on my 'breakfast' when my teacher walked up to me. The following conversation ensued.

Teacher: What are you eating?

Me: Just some ramen.

Teacher: Raw?

Me: Yeah, I like it raw.

Teacher: You don't cook it?

Me: Sometimes when I have the time.

Teacher: Well, you know, if you cooked it, it wouldn't be RAWmen.

groan

The bus ride to the station had been very stressful. I spent the entire time worrying if the bus even stopped at the train station. I ended up spending nearly an hour making two loops around the city before I finally realized that I had to hop off near the station. Public transport. Jesus.

I'd missed the train I wanted to catch due to my hour-long bus ride, so I had some time to kill before the next one arrived. It had been cold and raining when I left in the morning, but by lunch time it was warm and I was sweating, standing on the station in a big yellow hoodie and jeans.

I had overslept and skipped breakfast earlier, so I resolved not to let the loud farts coming from the old man next to me kill my appetite. I was desperate for a snack.

Initially the vending machine told me it would accept "EXACT CHANGE ONLY". Slightly annoying, but no real problem: I just fished out my change, inserted some alternative coins and punched in the number. I watched the object of my desire inch forwards, ready to drop into the bottom where I could collect it. For some reason I was terrified that it might get stuck. Robbed by a robot, how embarrassing. Luckily the packet fell into the tray. Finally something was going my way.

As I reached into the bottom of the machine and pushed open the metal door, it suddenly stuck. It was wedged in place and the gap was too small for my snack to fit through. "Motherfucker..." I whispered under my breath.

But I was too invested to give up now. Determined not to be beaten by a bloody machine, I pulled hard and the packet burst, spilling chips into the tray. I managed to salvage about half of the crisps and ate them greedily. Partially crushed, but still deliciously cheesy.

At this point it occurred to me that perhaps I should tell the station operator that the vending machine was broken. I walked up to the ticket office and saw a bored, tired looking man in his forties. "I just thought I'd let you know the vending machine is jammed," I announced.

The attendant got up, walked over over to the vending machine and gave it a solid kick, dislodging the little metal door which had foiled me. When he turned to me again his expression had changed from boredom to amusement. "So what flavour was it then? Strawberry?"

I groaned, but couldn't resist a smile.

I knew it was going to be a good day.

"Breakfast served all day? I don't have time for that!"