Come from the Heart Puns

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

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

I saw a white, fluffy thing swinging through my local cake shop. Suspect it was a meringue-utang.

I was out driving the other day and I spotted two packets of cheese & onion crisps walking down the road. I said, “Do you want a lift”. “No thanks”, they replied, “We’re Walkers”.

I was in a cake shop the other day, they were all £5 apart from one that was £10. I asked why it was so expensive, the shop owner said “that’s maderia cake”.

Bought some cream, it said “store in a cool place”. So I left it in the Doctor Who studios.

Local ice cream man was found lying on the floor of his van covered with hundreds and thousands. Police say that he topped himself.

I used to love doughnuts, but I got bored of the whole thing.

A man says “I keep finding custard in one ear, and jelly in the other”. The doctor says “I’m afraid you are a trifle deaf”.

I bought a waffle iron the other day. Get really annoyed with wrinkled waffles.

How do you make an apple puff? Chase it around the garden

What do they call a man who abandoned his diet? DESSERTER.

Ice cream is exquisite… –what a pity it isn’t illegal.

The optimist sees the doughnut, the pessimist sees the hole, and the realist sees the calories.

Why did Eve bite the forbidden apple? Because it tasted better than Adam’s banana.

Why did the students eat their homework? Because the teacher said that it was a piece of cake.

Why do we put candles on top of a birthday cake? Because it’s too hard to put them on the bottom!

When is a birthday cake like a golf ball? When it’s been sliced.

What did the cake say to the fork? you want a piece of me?

Why was the birthday cake as hard as a rock? Because it was marble cake!

What happens when no one comes to your birthday party? You can have your cake and eat it too.

What do they serve at birthday parties in heaven? Angel food cake, of course!

A birthday greeting: For someone special as you, only ANGELFOOD would do. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Did you hear there are two suspects in Two Ton Charley’s death? BEN and JERRY.

Don’t eat too much fudge, or else you will have so much pudge you won’t be able to budge.

You know you’re a mom if… Popsicles have become a staple food.

Mexican candy makes my taste buds say “OLE!”

FORGET LOVE… I’

Why didn’t the drunk Mexican druglord find the Bacon Tree? Because he walked into a Ham Bush!

Whats green and smells like bacon?  Kermit the Frog’s finger! Why do we cook bacon and bake cookies?

Why did the pig go into the kitchen? He felt like bacon.

Which actor is now being quarantined for Swine Flu?  Kevin Bacon

If you can’t get Swine Flu from eating bacon what can you get? A1: Obesity A2: Heart Disease A3: Hardening of the Arteries

Whats the name of the movie about Bacon? A1: Frankenswine A2: Hamlet Why do pigs go to New York City? To see the Big Apple.

Why was the meat packer arrested? For bringing home the bacon.

What do you get when you cross a pig and a chicken? The best bacon-and-eggs of your life.

Why did the pig kill the farmer? To save his own bacon. What do you call a bacon wrapped dinosaur? Jurrasic Pork.

What do you call a pig that can tell you about his ancestors? History in the bacon.

How do they get up there? In pigup trucks. What do you get when you cross a pig and a centipede? Bacon and Legs.

What would happen if pigs could fly? The price of bacon would go skyrocket.

What did the boy bacon say to the girl bacon? Girl, you’re bacon my heart melt.

What are they warned to watch out for? Pigpockets.

First Carter Page and now Betsy DeVos. Trump’s cabinet is like a game of six degrees of Kevin Bacon except with Russia.

Everything must be wrapped in bacon, including bacon.

If Kevin Bacon doesn’t whisper “Here comes the Baconator” before he has sex all my faith in humanity is lost

I’ll acknowledge Canada Day when they finally acknowledge that’s not bacon

If Donald Trump really KNOWS the average WORKER then where are the pics of Trump hungover in 7-Eleven buying bacon in sweat pants?

This guy ordered a vegetarian sandwich and then added bacon. It was like watching someone have a mid-life crisis and then find a cool hobby.

If we don’t build a wall on our northern border, they’ll soon be maple syrup & Canadian bacon trucks on every corner.

I signed an Executive Order to make Saturday morning bacon and eggs and pancakes with triple butter and syrup non-fattening.

My bedroom smells like maple, bacon and beaver…because I’m Canadian.

When the waitress calls you Babycakes you know you’re getting extr

EDIT: I somehow JUST saw the Mod Sticky post from last week, where a lot of users have expressed similar sentiments to these. I apologize to the mods if this is not appropriate and respect your decision if you want to delete it. I just wanted to see if people were thinking the same kind of thing. Still, read it if ya like.

It used to be that /r/dadjokes was a place to post actual stories of real dad humor. 'My dad pulled out this groaner at dinner.' 'Just became a dad...I think I get it now!' These are the things that warm my heart and tickle my corny bone. And I don't think I'm alone.

Now, we're arrogant enough to think we know the formula for dad humor, so we can post anything reminiscent of it, and it counts as a dad joke. It's as if we think we own dad humor now, and we can bend it and shape it at will.

Let me tell you, folks. WE DO NOT OWN DAD HUMOR.

Even the dads among us don't own it. I think the universe just channels it through them in brilliant, glorious, involuntary sneezes. Some are more deft than others, and are seen by the universe as more worthy outlets. But they do not own it.

We can get close to elusive heart of dad humor, we can approach it, we can dance around it...but we can never touch it. This is where I take issue with posts like this one, which currently has over 4000 upvotes and 2000 net karma. Is it reminiscent of dad-like punly-ness? Would a dad chortle heartily at reading it? Yes, almost certainly yes. But does that make it a dad joke? No...I would argue not.

Dad jokes are also not just about the jokes themselves. They're about the response--that he manages to be surprised at his own genius, even on the eightieth repetition. They're about the face-palms and straight stares of family members. What is a dad joke without context?

My proposed solution: ban link/image posts. I wish it wouldn't have to come to that, but I can't see another way to get back on track to the real goal here. I have hover zoom--I understand the desire for instant gratification. I've skipped over interesting looking videos because they required a click.

But that's not why I come here.

I understand that there are legitimate dad jokes transmitted via text, or perhaps requiring a bit of visual context. At this point, though, I think they are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause. They can always be transcribed into text, or included in a self-post. Maybe it seems a bit extreme, especially in the face

Long post is long:

Her: Remember dad's tomato bushes? Well they're attacking! At least one is leaning across the path trying to get at my window... We had the war of the roses, now its time for the attack of the tomatoes!

Me: I don't remember anything about tomato bushes. From one battle to the next.

Her: Yep! Lookout tomatoes here comes the chutney recipe!

Me: I can just imagine a cucumber campaign. Operation onion would be next, which will fail, causing everyone to cry. Dill Day follows, a great success for the allied gardeners. All too soon though, the kamikaze carrots set in, utterly ruining the radish raid. The mushroom maneuver is employed, saving the troops, allowing them to deal the final blow in the asparagus assault!

Her: Don't forget the pumpkins want to supply ground cover with heavy support...

Me: Ah yes, the pumpkin paratroopers.

Her: Thyme is running out...

Me: Prepare the beetroot bombs!!!

Her: Aim for Potato Garden!

Me: Fire the capsicum! Deploy the celery team!

Her: Bring in the egg plant division to support the capsicum!

Me: This is it boys, life or dirt! I want a passionfruit unit to find us a vantage point, and the strawberry unit to surround them!

Her: We had better bring the lettuce up to date!

Me: The cabbage are under withering fire, we need support from the raspberry division! The potatoes are mashed, so well need to send the zucchini in their place!

Her: The zucchini can't take that heavy fire, they'll be grated. Send spinach for some extra iron. The sweet potatoes are digging in at the ridge.

Me: Prepare the watermelon bomb, we need to finish this! The eggplant were squashed, deploy the broccoli brigade! The beans need to get out of there, or they'll be split!

Her: Cauliflowers are going in to retrieve the beans. How brave to risk their florets!

The corn commandos are deployed, but the artichokes are all out of heart, we need to boost morale.

Me: The leeks are down! They'll be flattened if we don't do something!

Are the spinach still operational?

Her: Too bad the pepper isn't on our side, they're well seasoned troops.

Spinach is a go!
Nothing has touched it...

Me: But wait! We still have the chillies to give them heavy fire!

Her: And the squashes and peas!

Me: The ginger is holding it's ground, but it's being cut down by the pineapple!

The basil should make things interesting, send them to aid the potatoes.

**Her:

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

Recently, Joe has been under the slight suspicion that his wife is cheating on him. So, one day he comes home early from work, to his crap-shoot apartment on the eighth floor, and hears her scurrying around when he enters. Almost as if there's another person in the house. When he calls out her name she hollers back that she just ran into the shower. So he investigates the bedroom and encounters a shocking surprise... a pair of hands dangling from the other side of the window sill! Those of a grown man, hanging on for dear life. Infuriated at the sight of the man who's sleeping with his wife, Joe takes the bedside lamp and starts bashing the guy's fingers until he falls eight stories onto the sidewalk. Only he's still alive, writhing and broken. So Joe hauls the refrigerator from the kitchen out the window, sending it down onto the poor sucker, killing him instantly. Now the hysteria of the moment induces a fatal heart attack and Joe himself, dies. So now, as he's up at the pearly gates, St. Peter is telling all the incoming souls that in order to gain access into heaven, they need to provide a solid account of how they died. After hearing Joe's story, St. Peter allows him in. The next man in line says that he was tanning in the sun, drunk, on the roof of his apartment building when he fell off, only to catch hold of a window sill that could have saved his life, until a crazed bastard beat his fingers and threw a refrigerator onto him. St. peter tells him that he's a shoe-in. And when he asks the next guy in line how he ended up deceased, the guy replies, "...So I'm naked in a refrigerator, right?"

(We are from Montana.)

Montana and North Dakota are in the middle of a war. The NDs have amassed a huge army and are about to march over a hill to invade MT. The commander of the ND army decides to send out a couple of scouts to see if the way is clear. Almost immediately after the two scouts disappear over the top of the hill, loud crashing and rumbling sounds come from the direction they went. After waiting until they are overdue for return, the commander decides to send a squad over to check out what happened. As they pass out of sight, a loud raucous was again heard from the other side of the hill. The commander becomes concerned and decides not to wait for them to return. He sends an entire platoon over the hill, telling them to take out any resistance they meet and return with any survivors. Once again, as the men disappear over the hill, the terrible sounds of war rush over the entire army and then slowly die down until nothing could be heard but the beating of the commanders heart. A proud man, never before defeated in battle, he decides to lead the entire army over the hill himself to destroy the opposition once and for all, but as they begin to march they see a single, mangled, ND soldier pulling himself up over the top of the hill by the only functioning limb of his body. Beaten, bloody and near death, he manages, with help, to make it to the commander and says; "Sir... (cough) Don't go... (spit, cough) It's a trap..."

And in the surprise induced silence he says;

"There's TWO of 'em."