Clockwork Puns

...he tells the owner and bartender that he’s a surgeon down at the hospital and he just wants to forget about everything for awhile.

Dick knows just the thing. He quickly whips up a thick, exotic beverage and places it in front of the worn out doctor. He takes one sip and his eyes light up. “What IS that?” “That’s my signature almond daiquiri”, Dick tells him. The surgeon tells him it’s delicious, pays his bill and comes back the next day and the next day at the same time for the same thing: An almond daiquiri.

Before long, like clockwork, Dick is able to have it ready for him just before he comes in. But, one day as he is preparing the drink, he realizes that he’s run out of almonds! With no time to lose, he quickly substitutes the almonds with hickory nuts and sets the beverage on the bar.

The surgeon pops in, takes a big gulp, and immediately spits it all over the bar. He looks at the bartender and says, “That’s not an almond daiquiri, Dick!” And Dick says, “No, it’s a hickory daiquiri, Doc!”.

Now, if you have a lot of time on your hands, let me explain. These puns are a timely solution to anyone starting to dadjoke. With enough hours of practice, they become clockwork to deliver. Sometimes it's best to watch others perform the joke. I know, some of you may be ticked off with me (which isn't alarming) using my firsthand information on how to easily make a pun and how it has really wound you up. Yes, I'll hand it to you, making a simple pun is second-best to the more thought out grander puns with all the bells and whistles. Whatever makes you tick, I guess.

Explanation: the Russian word друг (drug, pronounced drook or droog) means male friend.

So a bus conductor in America was doing his job one day, happily printing and checking tickets all day long, enjoying the country views and feeling good about life.

A young lad gets on, chewing gum and being as loud and rude as all teenage lads are. There’s no-one else on the bus, so the conductor takes his ticket machine and bops the lad over the head, killing him. As expected, the Police arrest him. He goes through the legal process, a trial and admits his guilt, however the judge decides that they’re making an example of him and give him the sentence of death by the electric chair.

On Death row, he requests 5lbs of bananas for his last meal, which is duly brought and consumed. As he finishes, the guards arrive to escort him to the chair. As the executioner flicks the switch, nothing happens. All of the equipment is checked and works, but has no effect on the bus conductor. Under the law, this counts as a reprieve and he is released.

He gets his job back and puts the whole incident behind him. Until one day, a little old lady gets on the bus and starts to pay for a ticket in one cent coins. After about 10 minutes of fiddling with change, the conductor runs out of patience and bops the old lady on the head, killing her. As expected, the Police arrest him. He goes through the legal process, a trial and admits his guilt, however the judge decides that they’re making an example of him and give him the sentence of death by the electric chair.

On Death row, he requests 5lbs of bananas for his last meal, which is duly brought and consumed. As he finishes, the guards arrive to escort him to the chair. As the executioner flicks the switch, nothing happens. All of the equipment is checked and works, but has no effect on the bus conductor. Under the law, this counts as a reprieve and he is released.

After getting his job back again, life seems to go well for the conductor, until one day a young lady gets on the bus, casually putting her feet on the seat opposite. By now, the conductor is a little less lenient than in years gone by, so he takes his ticket machine and bops her over the head with it, killing her. As expected, the Police arrest him. He goes through the legal process, a trial and admits his guilt, however the judge decides that they’re making an example of him and give him the sentence of death by the electric chair.

On Death row, he requests 5lbs of bananas for his last meal, which is duly brought and consumed. As he finishes, the guards ar

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.

Like clockwork

There is a CVS about a 5 minute walk from my house that I like to get my convenience shopping done at with these auto-checkout kiosks that always lock up. I scanned my drinks and like clockwork the machine started beeping that somebody would be available to assist me shortly; the machine had locked up. A young girl scans her ID to bring it back to functionality and asks if I needed any further assistance.

I pointed to my reflection in the window and said "No thanks, I'm going to finish checking myself out and be on my way" and flexed a bit

It took her a second, but once the guy in the photo department started cracking up she got it. I laughed all the way home.