Couldn't Get It Right Puns

Basics.

Save them to your Phone and always have witty jokes at the palm of your hand.

3.14 percent of sailors are pi-rates.

5/4 of people admit they’re bad at fractions.

A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.

A brain walks into a bar and takes a seat. “I’d like some wings and a pint of beer, please,” it says. “Sorry, but I can’t serve you,” the bartender replies. “You’re out of your head.”

A cheeseburger walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Sorry, we don't serve food here.'

A college education now costs $100,000, but it produces three very proud people: the student, his mama, and his pauper.

A couple of cups of yogurt walk into a country club. “We don’t serve your kind here,” the bartender says. “Why not?” one yogurt asks. “We’re cultured.”

A friend of mine didn’t pay his exorcist. He got repossessed.

A friend of mine is known for sweeping girls off their feet. He’s an extremely aggressive janitor.

A guy walks into a bar, and there’s a horse serving drinks. The horse asks, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a horse tending bar before?” The guy says, “It’s not that. I just never thought the parrot would sell the place.”

A guy walks into a bar...and he was disqualified from the limbo contest.

A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head. The bartender says, “What’s with the paper towel?” The pirate says, “Arrr! I’ve got a Bounty on me head!”

A turtle is crossing the road when he’s mugged by two snails. When the police ask him what happened, the shaken turtle replies, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”

Armed robbers—some say they’re a drain on society, but you’ve got to give it to them.

Barbers…you have to take your hat off to them.

Can February March? No, but April May!

Cooking out this weekend? Don’t forget the pickle. It’s kind of a big dill.

Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don't think they'll fit me.

Dad, can you put the cat out? I didn't know it was on fire.

Dad, did you get a haircut? No, I got them all cut!

Dad: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? Son: No. What happened? Dad: The teacher woke him up.

Daughter: I have a lot of friends named Nathan. There’s Nathan Miller, Nathan Radcliff, Nathan Lewis… Me: When they are together, do you call them the United Nathans?

Dear Math, grow up and solve your own problems.

Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head!

Did you hear about the aquatic sea mammals that escape

One cold, snowy Minnesota night, I got lost on the way home. The snow was blowing so fast and piling up so high, I couldn't see any street signs. With no map in my car and a dead cell phone, I thought I might be stranded so I pulled over to the side of the road.

Then breaking through the flurries, I saw the headlights of a plow truck in my rearview mirror. Thanking my lucky stars, I turned in and followed the truck, hopeful that it would lead me back somewhere I recognized.

I followed that truck for what felt like hours. He turned left, I'd turn left. He'd swing to the right, and I was right on his tail. After a while, I saw brake lights from the plow, followed by four-way flashers. The plow had stopped, and I saw the driver get out and approach my car. I rolled down the window to talk to him.

"Why are you following me, kid?" the plow driver asked.

"Well sir, my dad told me if I was ever lost in a snowstorm, I should wait for a plow truck and then follow it."

"Well," said the plow driver. "I just finished clearing the Target parking lot. Want to follow me over to Best Buy??"

His best friend, Roy, was known around town for having an adventurous streak that a small town just couldn't satisfy. Roy yearned to travel the world, to rub shoulders with the well-to-do, and to squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of life. While most young folk in town, my grandpa included, were resigned to their lot, Roy was driven by his dream. He worked incredibly hard, taking every hired-hand and handy-man job he could find. He would walk five miles each way to clean a gutter if there was a nickel to be made. His hometown was always spotless, because Roy would pick up every glass bottle he saw to get the deposit back, and every can he found would get turned in for recycling.

The years stretched on. Grandpa settled down with his high school sweetheart in a one-room cottage and had my dad, and not much else. Roy kept hurrying from one job to the next, never spending a dime on a date. Everyone would just roll their eyes and quietly gossip about how poor Roy's obsession was robbing him of a real life.

One day, Roy showed up at Grandpa's house, all decked out in a brand new khaki safari kit, complete with helmet, binoculars, and elephant gun, and announced that he had finally saved up enough for passage to Africa to go big game hunting. He was especially proud of the fine leather boots he was sporting. "Indestructable" he called them, totally impenetrable to water, wind, and snow. No trench-foot for him while he tracked rhinos on the savannah!

Grandpa congratulated Roy on his achievement and wished him bon voyage. Over the next three months, the town felt Roy's absence. Litter lay where it fell, gutters overflowed in heavy rain, small-time farmers rose that bit earlier and bedded that bit later to cover the work Roy used to help with. Of course, the gossipers just turned their chat from how Roy needed a dose of reality to how thoughtless it was of him to just up and leave. Most folks were convinced Roy was gone for good. After all, how could he come back from such a high-falutin' adventure to his tiny, no-account hometown?

But return Roy did, and everyone crowded around at the bar to hear his account of his safari. To their surprise, Roy told them that, for all the time he had been away, he only bagged one trophy that was currently on a slow boat back. It turned out, once Roy got a close-up look at the elephants, rhinos, giraffes, gazelles, and all the fine animals of the African savannah, he lost all heart for hunting. He just couldn't imagi

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

So we were driving to the Ikea and I saw a bunch of young cows getting released into a field next to the highway. I pointed it out on the way back but she couldn't see them right until the last moment. She said they were hiding. So I said they were camouflaged... cow-moo-flaged

The look on her face was priceless.

"Did I ever tell you about the asshole?"

"What?"

"Well, the asshole was at a meeting with all of the other body parts, and they were deciding who should be in charge of the whole body, right? So first, the brain says, 'C'mon, obviously I should be the boss. I do all of the decisions, thinking--why is this even a question?'

'Well, good luck doing all of the thinking if you can't see where you're going,' say the eyes. 'We should be in charge.'

'What good is it going to do seeing, if you can't get anywhere?' asked the legs.

'Well, without us, you'd have no oxygen,' said the lungs.

'Are you serious?' said the stomach. 'How are you supposed to process energy and do any of this stuff, without me??'

'Well, what about me?' piped up the asshole. 'I'm important too..'

'You?!?' laughed the other parts. 'Shut up, asshole!'

So the asshole went on strike.

A week and a half later, the brain couldn't think straight. The eyes couldn't focus, the legs were asleep from sitting on the pot, and the stomach was so jammed up full of crap that the lungs could barely breathe.

Finally, they all went to the asshole and said, 'Look, we're sorry, we're sorry!! Just come back to work, you can be in charge!'

...and that's why all bosses are assholes."

Miss ya, Pops.

A conversation between my wife and me on the way home from a concert:

• Me: It was a good show tonight but I couldn't believe the amount of updog all over the stage.
• My Wife: What are you talking about?
• Me: The updog! It was all over the stage!
• My Wife: I have no idea what you are talking about!
• Me: All that updog!? It was right next to the henway. How could you miss it?
• My Wife: I DON'T GET YOUR SLANG!

Why is this so hard?

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

Okay so I get off at 4:00 and I didn't waste any time leaving the office. Shut down my computer, grabbed my keys, and I was on the road by 4:05. It had been a pretty crazy day and I was ready to get home.

As I'm driving home I notice I'm running on Empty. I probably could have made it home but I was really craving a Coca Cola so I decide to stop at the nearest gas station.

Anyways I'm filling my tank I see an old lady a few gas pumps away putting gas in her old beat up station wagon but didn't really think anything of it and just continued to enjoy my icey cold Coca Cola.

Next thing I know I see this old lady holding the gas pump nozzle spewing gas everywhere. I guess she had taken the nozzle out of the vehicle w out disengaging the automatic trigger or whatever but it went EVERYWHERE. Her car, her arms, the ground, all over the place and by the time she got that thing to stop spraying there was at least a gallon of gas everywhere.

So I immediately run over to see if she's okay and she smells like straight up gas. I gave her napkins to dry off her hands and to clean what gas was spilled on the car. She said she was okay and thanked me for my help so I leave and head home.

So now I'm a few blocks from home, driving over the last hill right before my next turn and all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, she comes flyin past me in that same old beat up station wagon with, I shit you not, her arm CAUGHT ON FIRE. And as if that's not bad enough there are two cops right behind her in hot pursuit. So while I'm freaking out trying to pull over to the side she zooms past so fast I barely catch a glimpse of her frantically flailing her arm out the window as they all go over the hill.

At that point couldn't believe what I was seeing it was just too crazy. So I quickly get back on the road and make my way over the hill and I spot her. She's pulled over in the emergency lane. I see the same old lady being handcuffed and put in the back of the squad car.

Yeah turns out she was arrested for waiving a fire arm in public.

¯_(ツ)_/¯

A Christmas Poem
by Dad (1952–2009)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shack,
Not a creature was stirring, we was all in the sack;

Our mugs were placed on the mantle with cheer,
In hope that Saint Nick would bring us a beer;

And me I was tucked up all snug in my bed,
But strains of sweet music still danced through my head;

So I sprang from my bed with a crash and a clatter,
And off down the hall with bare feet did I patter;

There on the chair sat my musical pipe,
So I sat down to play without fanfare or hype;

Come Mozart, come Hayden, Stravinski and Strauss,
And write me some music to bring down the house;

When down from the chimney appeared with a crash,
A strange little man in the smoke and the ash;

He wiggled and jumped and got up like a shot,
Came over and said, "Man those cinders are hot!";

His stomach it shook like a bowl full of jelly,
For a moment I thought it was dear old aunt Nelly;

His nose like a cherry, his ears like two jugs,
I was worried that this guy just might be on drugs;

His language was foul, his jokes they were crass,
So I opened the door and threw him out on his ass;

But then as I turned, boy was I ever surprised;
I saw what he'd bought me, or so I surmised;

For there in the corner right under the tree,
Was some brand new sheet music and a case of O.V.;

I turned to say thank-you but found he had gone,
He was not in the garden and not on the lawn;

And just when I thought that he couldn't get far,
I realized the old goat had stolen the car;

Off in the distance he said with a wheeze,
"I hated to do it but you left me the keys!";

I smiled and laughed for this much I could savour,
For I'd just sold the car to my idiot neighbour;

And once more he called as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and don't drive when you're tight!"

Thank you for everything, Dad. We love and miss you.

it'll still be stationery.

If you don't pay your exorcist you can get repossessed.

I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. I just can't put it down.

I didn't like my beard at first. Then it grew on me.

Did you hear about the crossed-eyed teacher who lost her job because she couldn't control her pupils?

When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.

When chemists die, they barium.

I stayed up all night to see where the sun went, and then it dawned on me.

I changed my iPod's name to Titanic. It's syncing now.

England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool .

Haunted French pancakes give me the crepes.

This girl today said she recognized me from the Vegetarians Club, but I'd swear I've never met herbivore

I know a guy who's addicted to drinking brake fluid, but he says he can stop any time.

A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months.

When the smog lifts in Los Angeles U.C.L.A. I got some batteries that were given out free of charge.

A dentist and a manicurist married. They fought tooth and nail.

A will is a dead giveaway.

With her marriage, she got a new name and a dress.

Police were summoned to a daycare center where a three-year-old was resisting a rest. Did you hear about the fellow whose entire left side was cut off? He's all right now.

A bicycle can't stand alone; it's just two tired.

The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine last week is now fully recovered. He had a photographic memory but it was never fully developed.

When she saw her first strands of gray hair she thought she'd dye.

Acupuncture is a jab well done. That's the point of it.

Those who get too big for their pants will be totally exposed in the ends.

So in my calculus class last year in math, there were these two Chinese twins. Ving, and Ling. Ving was always super cool with me. In exchange for answers (he was super smart) I would hang out with him and be his friend and stuff. After I cheated off of him and studied with him though, I did get to be his friend and we got very close.

His sister, Ling, was always uptight about school and she made sure to study, she got stressed about a B, etc. One day I was hanging out with Ving, and we started talking about names. He went off on this huge rant about how he hated his, and how he wanted to change it to something more Asian-American, like Lee. I told him that the Courthouse downtown had a form that you could fill to legally change it. He told me: "I always give you answers. If you could just drive me down to the courthouse this one time, I will never forget you. I just hate this god-forsaken Chinese name and I want to get rid of it forever."

He seemed pretty adamant about it, so I decided the best decision would be to take him. We walked out to my car, and right as I put the keys in the ignition Ling came running and tapped on the car door like a madman. I rolled it down and she started freaking out about how Ving's name had been passed down through generations and generations, but Ving didn't care. He just wanted to go down to the Courthouse and get it over with.

Ling figured that coming with would be the best idea, so if anything else came up that she would be needed for, she would be there for Ving. Honestly, I felt stuck in the middle of a family feud, so I just took her along. When we got to the Courthouse, Ving confidently walked up to the front desk and asked the receptionist if he could change his name. She gave him a little packet of paper and told him to sit down. Ling and I waited patiently while Ving filled out his info. I was watching him fill it out and I noticed he really did want to change his name to Lee.

Before he finished, though, he started tearing up. He told me he couldn't change his name. He asked the lady at the front that he couldn't do it, and she told him he would need twenty dollars to cancel the request. Ling was so relieved and happy that he changed his mind, she dug through her purse, found the money, and started to hand it to the receptionist.

It was at this moment that the most stereotypical Asian man burst through the doors. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a visor, American flag shorts, flip flops, everything. This

Older coworker asks me to find a mail order and gives me the SKU to find it and this is how the conversation goes

Me:I know this is the right phone case but I'm not sure why the SKU doesn't match.

Her:Looks like the number is SKU'd up.

Her:Do you get it?

She is a cute 50 year old lady and I just couldn't stop laughing.

So my Pops asks if I could help him get the Christmas "stuff" down from the loft with him. We have a loft above the garage where we store seasonal decorations.

He'll go up in the loft and I'll stand on the middle of the ladder, where he hands me the plastic containers, which I'll place on the floor.

As soon as he gets up there I see that the most accessible and logical box to take down first is the one with the wrapping paper. I reach for it and he shoos me away coming up with an excuse to leave it up there for the time being.

Right then and there I knew exactly what he was doing and I couldn't stop it.

We get the absurd amount of containers down until there's only the one left. He hands it too me and says, "Whelp.. that about wraps it up. Haha."

It's not even that good and I knew it was coming for the whole half-hour, but never the less I rolled my eyes and gave him his moment of glory. He deserves it.

When I was in high school, I babysat 2 boys (who at the time of this story, were aged 7 and 10) for some extra cash. One day I was eating dinner with the family when the younger brother said that he couldn't wait to be in the fourth grade like his older brother.

"It's not that great," said the older one. "Once you're in the fourth grade, you have to read a bunch of books for a summer reading log and write a report on one." (In my county, there are mandatory summer assignments, the most common ones are English assignments.)

Their dad said, "Summer projects are good! They help stimulate your brain over the summer! If you don't brush up on your education for those three months, you could lose all of your smartness and never get it back!"

Older brother: "Yeah right. And how did you find that out?"

Me: "Well, they do say that firsthand experience is the best way to learn."

My whole family is very, very white.

So my brother and I are at an NHL hockey game. I forget who was playing. My brother and I had gone to get some snacks are where trying to get my dads attention. We called his name, we waved, we screamed, we screeched, and nothing would get his attention. Finally we determined that we get his attention by calling the pet name he used for us when we were getting into mischief.

... 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... COTTONPICKER!!!

At that moment 3 huge black guys turned around. I wondered for a second why they looked like they wanted to murder us. I had never actually parsed the word cottonpicker before; but in the second second I did. Took till the third second until I realized the rascist connotations of that term, and why 3 huge black guys might have some ill will towards us for screaming it so flippantly. I can only imagine how my 13 year old eyes looked as I processed this information. By the forth second I had grabbed my brother and we were running. We didn't stop for 10 minutes. We couldn't go back to our seats for the whole game since these guys were sitting right behind us.

After the game I let my father know how pissed at him I was.

TLDR: Dads don't have rascist pet names for your kids; you may get them killed.

They visit their doctor, who says, "You're both healthy and work out, I don't think there'll be a problem. I need a sperm sample though." The elderly couple took the clear bottle home and brought it back the next day. The doctor holds the bottle up to the light and says, "This bottle is empty sir." The elderly man replies, "I tried it with my right hand and with my left hand, Ma tried it with her right hand and her left hand, with her teeth in and her teeth out. But no matter what we did, we couldn't get that lid off that bottle."

True story, this just happened, immediatly thought to myself typical dad joke right here. So I was making tea for myself and dad wanted some as well.

I was looking for his usual glass but couldn't find it. It looks like the one on the right in this photo: http://i.imgur.com/Uy5noxC.jpg

We only have one of those tall ones (his one) but we have a few of the smaller versions of the same style (double wall tea glass).

Exposition over, now onto the joke he made.

So as I was trying to find it, he said it broke so he asked me to pour it into the smaller glass to which I replied, "Why don't you use the mugs, they're bigger anyway". He says "Because I don't want to get mugged".

Upon getting lucky with a bad play in a card game one of my friends exclaimed "Am I smart or what?" His dad playing the same table responded "What."
"Am I smart or what?"
"I heard you the first time, that wasn't a question, it was an answer; what." He couldn't help smiling as he delivered the line to collective groans around the table and me cracking up because my friends old man was completely right, his son misplayed and got lucky.