A list of puns related to "Bury It"
The cementary.
A pothole.
They put his right foot in, they put his right foot out...
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."
A grave mistake.
He rasped, "Cuz they’re still alive!"
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."
It was the bomb diggity.
Except in Mexico. There, they only burritos.
In decrypt.
The son said "I think we need to start growing something other than just wheat" and started naming fruits and vegetables.
"I think you're right, kiddo" said the man.
He went over to one of the haybales and started grabbing fistfuls of it. He spread it out and then started covering it with dirt.
"Dad, what are you doing?" asked the son, confused.
"I'm making straw-buries".
So I buried a saucepan in my yard. I hear it takes no skillet all. Just water it with Kettle One and wok away without really frying. Hopefully it’ll produce a nice stock.
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 is a known fact that the penguin is a very ritualisticbird which lives an extremely ordered and complex life.
The penguin is very committed to its family and will mate for life, as well as maintain a form of compassionate contact with its offspring throughout its life.
If a penguin is found dead on the ice surface, other members of the family and social circle have been known to dig holes in the ice, using their vestigial wings and beaks, until the hole is deep enough for the dead bird to be rolled into, and buried.
The male penguins then gather in a circle around the fresh grave and sing:
"Freeze a jolly good fellow." "Freeze a jolly good fellow."
who passed away this month in 2004, I'd like to repeat something he's said to me often throughout his years.
Dad: "Hey Son"
Me: "Yeah Dad?"
Dad: "See that place over there?" points to cemetery
Me: "Yeah? What about it?"
Dad: "People are just dying to get in there."
Today I buried my shoe. May it's sole Rest In Peace.
In 1827, after Beethoven died, he was buried outside the local church, in the graveyard, and people came to pay their respects frequently.
One morning, about a week after the funeral, two girls came to leave some flowers on his grave, only to hear strange, unearthly sounds coming from it. Creeped out, they called for the local Paranormal Investigator.
The Investigator arrived an hour later, and with him, a small crowd, who had come to see what was happening to the composer’s grave.
Suddenly, one member of the crowd exclaimed, “I recognise that sound! It’s his 9th Symphony, backwards!”
Soon after, another said, “and that’s his 8th, backwards!”
After leaning closer to the grave to inspect this for himself, the Investigator straightened himself up, gave a soft chuckle, and said:
“Never fear, ladies and gentlemen! Beethoven’s just decomposing.”
Did you know there are people dying today who have never died before?
How do I bury it
Any idea on how to bury it?
He buried someone in the wrong plot....
It was a grave mistake!
Me - "Can I ask you a question?"
Dad - "Sure, anything!"
Me - "Do you think I have mom's hair?"
Dad - "I sure hope not, wasn't she buried with it?"
Too soon dad, too soon.
It was a complete failure. I'm not sure if I buried them too deep or too close together.
Pretty rocky at times. Though I am sure if they can stay grounded they won't get buried by it all.
He came out and said: "That sign in there is wrong."
Me: "Which one?"
Dad: "It says 'Employees must wash hands'."
Me: "... How is that wrong?"
Dad: "I waited for 10 minutes and an employee never came to wash my hands!"
Everyone at the table just buried their faces in their hands....
Buried under all this food, his dying words were, "Oh no, it's Buffet the Vampire Slayer!"
I'm currently running my players through a D&D adventure titled "Curse of Strahd".
Last session, my players found a journal revealing details about the main villain, Count Strahd Von Zarovich. When they acquired it, I passed the adventure book over--opened up to an illustration depicting the journal's pages--and one of the players proceeded to read. After struggling for a bit, he said, "I'm having a tough time reading this cause it's so cursive."
Yes," I responded. "It's the cursive Strahd."
I had that one chambered and ready for weeks, just waiting for the right moment.
What my players don't know is that I'm also going to include a few other bits of flavor for my them to find as they progress through the game:
"Did you know that no one living on this street is allowed to be buried here?"
"Hm, no.. why not?"
"It's illegal to bury the living, honey."
One day Mario and Luigi were arguing with eachother after they came across a very unique ghost in their travels. See, this particular spirit had a permanent rain cloud above her head, leaving water wherever she went. Even more curiously, she permanently had her nose buried in a book!
Mario was adamant "No one's ever seen anything like this before. We should contact the librarians in Peaches Castle to document this."
But Luigi was infuriated and set out to prove his brother wrong. After many hours in the library, he threw a monsters compendium on the desk infront of his brother and exclaimed...
"Take a look.
Its in the book.
Its a reading Rain Boo."
pretending to sound informative
"Hey, did you know that if you live 10 miles or less from the cemetery you can't be buried there?" People would respond, intrigued "what! Really!" And then he would have a conversation about it for time before he would say "Its probably because they're still alive!!" And then he would crack up for a few minutes
So we're flying SouthWest airlines, which means that everyone has a boarding group A to D and a boarding number 1 to 60 to determine when everyone gets to board. As soon as they call boarding group A, my dad walks right up to the ticket checker with a big smile on his face and says, "Excuse me, but I believe I'm supposed to board before everyone else. She is confused for a moment and then he proudly holds up his ticket which has "B4" on it. Everyone kind of chuckled and I quickly buried my face in my hands.
This one was about two years ago, but it was one of my favorite memories of work due to the reaction it got. There's a little bit of a setup/backstory for this.
I landed a job at the local Sam's Club before it opened, so I, along with the other associates, was to attend a credit training event at a very nice bank in town.
There were probably 30 or 40 in the class and most of us knew each other pretty well because we had spent the past few weeks 'blitzing,' or selling Sam's Club memberships at Walmarts in the area.
Anyway, the credit guy (his name fails me) was giving a powerpoint presentation on the ins and outs of the Sam's credit accounts. At one point, he said that for pre-approved members, a piece of paper called a 'chit' will print out. There were a few chuckles and he smiled and said "yeah, I know," and carried on.
Then I raised my hand.
He called on me, and I began: "So if a church with a business membership is pre-approved, who's responsible for applying? A church accountant or one of the clergy or something?"
"Yes, whoever owns the account itself."
"Would that be considered a 'holy chit?'"
The class erupted in laughter and one associate even left the room because she was laughing so hard. I saw one of the managers in class with us had his head buried in his arms laughing to the point of tears.
Probably my finest moment.
Was driving past a big cemetery when I was younger... Mum: you know all the people living next to it can't be buried there Me: why not Mum: because they aren't dead yet!
[Driving past the cemetery] Me: Hey kids, you know how many dead people are buried in that cemetery?
kids: Uhhhhhh. . . .
Me: All of 'em.
Backstory: My grandfather would always do this gag when I was a kid and it was YEARS before I understood it. I'd think, "how could all the dead people in the world be buried in there?" Then one day it all made sense, and I did laugh.
You guys probably got this one. Every time my Dad and I drove past a graveyard he always had two go-to jokes.
Dad: See that place (pointing). People are dying to get in there.
Dad: See that place (pointing). People living within 10km's of this place can't be buried there.
The Recipient: Yeah? Why not?
Dad: Because they're still alive!
At least when he starts the joke I never know which one it will be.
I was driving to the gym with him and saw a big hole where some cobstruction* was under way for a new building. I thought it was strange that there weren't any piles with the excess dirt, and said "I wonder what they do with all of the dirt."
My dad had a pretty solid grasp on things- "I think they bury it"
Trying to make it to the theater on time for a show, with my 12 year old daughter next to me, stuck behind a very slow-moving Cadillac Escalade. Suddenly I throw up some gang symbols and scream "Yo, move it, Escalade, befo things get... Escaladed!"
Daughter goes "omigod" and buries her face in her hands.
Grandpa sees cemetery
Grandpa: Do you know why someone living in (random city's name) can't be buried here?
Me: I don't know, why?
Grandpa: Because they are living. chuckles to himself
I've heard it over 100 times and he always forgets I have heard it before.
Me: Did you know it's against the law for people living across the street from a cemetery to be buried there?
Unsuspecting victim: Why?
Me: They aren't dead.
I think it was unintentional but the dialogue went:
Frank: Are you coming to the memorial today?
Claire: Do I have to?
Frank: No.
Claire: I'm buried right now.
Frank: Fine.
While we were watching season 5, when Walt drove his money in a van to the desert to bury it, I said, "Well how is he going to remember where he buried it?" And my boyfriend said, "Easy, it's right beside the van!"
He rasped, "Cuz they’re still alive!"
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."
I told him that's the last thing I need.
All of them
I said, “Well, we better go bury it then.”
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