Bus doors Puns

Lol, on last year's Valentine's day my best friend had got mad at me for not asking my crush out.

We'd planned on going to McDonald's together because he didn't have a date either. When I arrived at McDonald's this f*cker was holding a cardboard box with a terrified look and when he saw me he immediately gave me the box and told me he'd already bought the food and that we better take the bus to my place. I just thought he probably was joking or something because the box didn't even have any kind of decoration, it even had a chips brand printed on it, but as we got to the bus and sat I felt something moving inside, I thought maybe it was a puppy or something, but why did he look scared of it?

So, we get to my house, I go to my backyard, where my then 7yo beagle was and I open the box. I could only see a black blur flying out of it and then heard my best friend scream. It was a rooster. He's terrified of birds. And weirdest of all it was a fully grown rooster but he was super tiny, like 10 inches tall tiny.

I asked him wtf was going on and he just kinda hid behind the backyard door and said "I bought it so that you could get some cock tonight". I always make puns and he hates them, I was speechless. So long story short I now own 6 chickens and 4 roosters (my mom got super mad at him for buying the rooster, but then she got super attached and bought him a chicken, when she laid eggs she let them hatch, the rooster's name is Enrique btw, my mom even made him a birthday party and all last week, lol)

A police officer came to my door and asked if I had any pictures of my wife. I told him yes and gave him one. He looked at the picture and said that it looks like my wife has been hit by a bus. I explained that he is right but, she is good with the kids.

The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.

The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.

Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and that’ll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.

“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.

“Please, call me Max”

“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”

“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”

Yesterday, I was running back from the school bus after asking the driver to give me a moment because my disabled son had had an accident and I was about finished cleaning him up. It was raining and muddy and I was in my bare feet, but this is the norm out here.

On the way back I managed to get my big toenail ripped up off the nailbed down to about halfway to the cuticle. Never done that before in 31 years, and oh my, I have to say it was a whole different level of exquisite agony when I finally noticed it. Funny how you never notice things like that until you see all the blood and how it doesn't even hurt until you touch it.

Sparing you the details of tracking in blood for five minutes before I even noticed I'd done it, the husband cringed quite a bit when he got home from work and saw it.

Fast forward to today--my period started and I had one hell of a headache all day long. He gets home from work and asks, "you ok, babe?" Because I'm usually pretty cheerful when he walks in the door, but today I was cranky as fuck.

"Eh, period started. Headache. Glad you're home, I can take a pain pill and you can watch the kids."

"Oh." He looked me up and down slowly and grinned. "So... now you're hurting from head... to toe?"

Motherfucker.

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

I drive a bloodmobile and we were at a blood drive last week where we usually bring a truck and set up inside the church we were at.

Donor: Why didn't you guys set up inside today?

Me: Couldn't fit the bus through the door.

The bus pulled up and had a bit of tree stuck in the door, so I took it out, as I got on the driver looks up and says "oh i'm just branching out"

I'm leaving the house and my dad says he'll close the door for me.
He asks: it's supposed to get cold tonight are you going to bring a jacket?
Me: no I'm okay.
Him: doesn't the bus stop get cold?
Me: I don't know, ask the bus stop.
We burst out into the happiest family laughter.