Calm Down Puns

He finds his composer.

Ohmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Me: I’m not David.

Doctor: I know. I’m David.

I should have been more clear when I told him to "tap the baby's back".

On the bright side, my baby has a new mount point!

Because compression is the opposite of tension!

Give them a gentle pat on the back and say, "Their, There, They're."

Oh, and by the way, those flashing lights on top of your car look really stupid.

Pay Alimony.

"What group of Early Americans loved seismic events?"

"The Quakers"

"Don't worry, man. Everything will be all-right"

It's just ice.

..' you'll just have to learn to be a little patient '

Because communication is key

"Whisper it some words of encouragement!"

Thanks everyone for your concern. 😢 First off, I'm OK though I was a bit shook up. If you don't already know, I was robbed at the gas station this afternoon.

After my hands stopped trembling, I managed to call the Police.

They were quick to respond and calmed me down because my blood pressure went through the roof! My money's gone, however.

The police asked me if I knew who did it and I told them, "Yes, it was pump number 1."

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

She said I’m not giving you a consolation prize.

He calmed down and even helped me tie the bricks to his ankles.

So there was a man who really loved his tractors. All of his life were about tractors. He had posters, DVD's and owned a lot of tractors. This man loved his tractors.

But there was one thing he loved more than his tractors. It was his lovely wife. One day, she was out on the fields and got crushed by a tractor. The man tried to save her but with no luck. She was killed by a tractor.

This man, despite his love of tractors, he got rid of everything. The posters he burns. The DVD's he throws them in the bin. The tractors he sells.

It takes him a while but he finally gets over his wife and he goes on a date with a new woman.

So they are in this fancy restaurant and they enjoy their food. But all of the sudden a lot of smoke comes out of the kitchen. It spreads through the entire restaurant. Everyone panics and no one can get fresh air, so they run out.

The man says: "calm down, I got this". He sucks all of the smoke in, runs outside and blows it all out. He has cleared all of the smoke in the restaurant. He comes back in and continues his meal. His date is surprised and impressed and says: "How did you do that?". Then he answers:

I am an extractor fan

The doctor tells him " Sir please calm down you're going to have to be a little patient"

I feel like I need to Greece them to get them to calm down.

Italy'what, I'll stop making bad puns now.

3 Engineers (1 chemical, 1 mechanical, 1 electrical) are carpooling with the IT guy from their firm. At the end of the day, the IT guy puts the key in, turns it, and … nothing …. The Mechanical Engineer says‘it’s the starter’, the Chemical Engineer says ‘the electrolyte in the battery has gone bad’, the Electrical Engineer says ‘probably a loose wire’. They begin arguing, and the IT guy says… ‘Guys, just calm down, let’s all get out of the car, and then get back in’

They got him to calm down.

"Calm down!" he said. "You're two-tenths!"

He said you just need to calm the duck down.

So I eased my car over to the shoulder of the road, carefully got out and reached in the side compartment I took out two cardboard men, unfolded them and stood them at the rear of my car facing on-coming traffic. They looked so life like you wouldn't believe it! They're dressed in open trench coats that exposed their nudity to the approaching drivers. But to my surprise, cars started slowing down to look at my lifelike men. And, of course, traffic began backing up. Everybody beeped their horns and waved like crazy. It wasn't long before a police officer pulled up behind me. He got out of his car and walked towards me. I could tell he was not a happy camper! "What's going on here?" "My car has a flat tire," I said calmly. "Well, what the heck are those obscene cardboard men doing here by the road?" I couldn't believe that he didn't know. So I told him...... "Helloooooo, those are my emergency flashers!"

Picture it. June, 1971. London.

Keith Emerson, Greg Lake and Carl Palmer are celebrating the release of their album Tarkus at the Seven Stars Pub.

Very quickly, both ELP and their BACs are riding high.

Nothing can spoil this evening.

Enter King Crimson, their bitter rivals in experimental jazz-fusion symphonic rock.

A chill hits the air, but they manage some level of civility.

Fripp even manages to put aside his seething anger at Lake for defecting to Emerson's new project and stands a round for all.

It's unclear exactly when Hawkwind arrives, but the strained emotions soon give way to genuine cheer and good will.

Lemmy, their basist at the time, could have that effect on people.

Unfortunately, he also later looks directly at Lake, points at Fripp and company and asks, "Waren't you wiv his lot?"

The police report explains that the ensuing fracas lasted for about 30 minutes at caused at least £4,500 (£56,604.93 in 2021, or $78,480.75) in damages, several broken bones and uncounted stiches.

The scrum finally calms down after Peter Gabriel, who was [throwing darts](https://darthelp.com/articles/the-history-of-darts/#:~:text=M

Groans all round.

This guy walks out of a store screaming how they're cheats and frauds. He then proceeds to knock over a mannequin and a few other decorations.

He then buys a coffee, is a jerk to the cashier and then spills some on the floor. He walks away and snaps his fingers at the janitor to clean it up.

The last straw was when he walks up to a group of school kids and starts ranting about how they should drop out of school and rise up against the establishment.

Security finally escorted him out kicking and screaming. Finally things calmed down a bit.

All in all, it was just another dick in the mall.

kid: RERErRErerErRerererererEreRerrerereRrErrrErEre!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?
Dad: Calm down! My ears hertz!!!

I got angry,

'Calm down Dad, it's just a game' he said

Well, I replied

'It's all fun and games until somebody loses an 'I' '

Well just calm down and pull yourself together.

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

“You'll just have to learn to be a little patient.”

.. you'll just have to learn to be a little patient.

“I was robbed at a gas station in NJ last night. After my hands stopped trembling..I managed to call the cops and they were quick to respond and calmed me down..... My money is gone.. the police asked me if I knew who did it..I said yes.. it was pump number 9…”

They snuck from their beds in the middle of the night and met in the gloomy darkness in front of the house, shivering in the cold.

The first boy said in a loud whisper, "You guys bring anything?" He slid a gun out of his pocket. The second boy nodded and revealed a knife. The third boy pulled out a flashlight.

"You didn't bring a weapon?" the first boy asked. He shrugged and replied, "Sorry". And as if to prove it, he turned his pockets out to show nothing but stray lint and a pack of cough drops.

They crept in. The door shut behind them. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. The flash light clicked on. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door on the other side, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a dead body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They found a fully set, ornate dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal goblets, pitchers and silverware adorned the table. Spiders crept over ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hel

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and