Day & Age Puns

I did some yardwork yesterday and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer. The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking. My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing, and I said, "Nothing." The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying "just thinking" is because she then would have asked, "About what?" At that point I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions. Finally I pondered an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts? Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer, and some more heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby, and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion: A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, "It might be nice to have another child." But you never hear a guy say, "You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts." I rest my case. Time for another beer.

Life as a Stay at Home Dad (honest humor nothing against Stay at Home Dads)

As as an aspiring father figure, I have the greatest respect for dads of every kind. In fact, much of this stems from the fact I’ve grown up from the age of 6 without a father of my own. I made this video as a comical representation of what I hope to be one day: a guy full of dad jokes and such humor.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

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

Apologies for not following the usual formatting. My father-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago. A few weeks ago, we learned it had spread to his brain. Later that day, he told me:

“Well, everyone came by after they heard about the lung cancer and told me how strong and great I am, and that I’d beat lung cancer...”

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

Edit: thank you all for the kind words (and the silver/gold/platinum...I’ll be making matching gifts to St. Jude’s or a similar organization).

Yes he was a great man. At age 20 he was given 3 months to live due to another ‘incurable’ disease. He stuck around for another 45+ years. I could go on and on...

A little boy named Tom was approaching his 3rd birthday, and absolutely adored the show "Tractor Tom", partially because of his name being spoken, and partially because he loved tractors.

As the day drew nearer, his parents decided to buy him a toy tractor as a gift. The rest of his toys were gone with the wind at this point, as Tom spent all his waking hours playing with this one tractor toy.

Fast forward a few years, and Tom's now approaching his 10th birthday, with his love for tractors intact and intensified. His parents discuss what to get for him, and decide that a ride-on tractor to replace his bike is the best gift they can give him.

Tom absolutely loves the gift, and spends all of his time out of school riding around the neighbourhood while his bike collects dust in the garage.

We come forward a few more years, as Tom approaches his 18th birthday, with an only intensified adoration of tractors. His father pulls him aside on the morning of his birthday, saying "Now son, I know that we've promised you a car, but we know what you really want."

He leads him outside, to a brand new tractor with a bow on it, saying that this is his welcome to adulthood.

Tom is beyond excited, and spends the next few months going everywhere in his tractor - grocery trips, bars, classes, friends' houses.....

Again, a few years later, Tom is driving down a back country road, in the middle of nowhere, with his tractor, in the middle of a storm. The tractor breaks down, and with no air conditioning or any form of modern comforts, Tom is in a miserable mood until someone finally comes past for him to flag down for help. After this, Tom realises that although tractors are fun, maybe they're not the best transport method out there.

Tom ages through a few more years, and finds himself driving down another road in the middle of nowhere in his car, and sees a house on fire just off the road. Being a good samaritan, he pulls over and heads up the driveway to a woman running out of the house screaming "Please, help, help! My baby is trapped in there! Go and call 911, please!"

Tom turns around, then, before leaving, has a brainwave.

He turns back and walks towards the flames, saying "Don't worry, ma'am, I've got this."

He takes a deep breath in, and the fire disappears into nothingness. As you'd expect, the woman is in awe, and asks, "Oh my God, how did you do that?!"

Tom simply responds, "Well you see ma'am, I'm an extractor fan."

Not completely sure this is a dadjoke but it sure got the same reaction. This happened about two years ago.

My wife used to work nights and on Friday and Saturday after she went to work, my then-12yo son and I would often watch a movie together. Sometimes he picked, usually it was a movie from The List, movies I liked when I was his age, things that shaped my sense of humor. I want him to be able to recognize the stupid quotes and references I throw at him. It’s his cultural education.

So we settled in for Groundhog Day. I’m a sucker for time travel shenanigans. Finished it up, he enjoyed it, and the next morning he was off to Boy Scout camp for a week.

He came back, we’re all excited to see him, and I tell him I got Groundhog Day 2 from Netflix. Threw it in the DVD player and we got about 20 minutes into before he looked at me and said “this is just Groundhog Day all over again, isn’t it? There is no Groundhog Day 2.”

So worth an extra week hanging onto the disc.

An askhole.

I didn't even laugh at first. I immediately asked if he'd heard it somewhere. He said he hadn't, that he'd come up with it on his own. When I asked him when he did that, he said it was when we were leaving for church (earlier that day). Then I had a good laugh.

I helped him tweak the setup a little, and then I had him tell his momma. I laughed even harder when she sat in stunned silence for a few seconds and then busted out laughing with her hands over her mouth.

We explained to him that while the joke was not wholly appropriate for his age, it most certainly was funny.

Every year, the team was in the state championship game, and usually won it handily. Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

Ladies and gentleman, Hoboes and tramps, Cross-eyed beetles, And bow-legged ants. Pull up a seat, And sit on the floor.

I'm going to tell you a story I know nothing about.

One dark day, In the middle of the night. Two dead boys, They stood up to fight.

Back to back They faced each other. Drew their swords, And shot each other. The deaf policeman heard it all, She came to shoot those two dead boys.

Don't believe this lie is true? Go ahead, ask the blind man. He saw it, too.

//Don't know who to credit this, it's a poem my parents taught me at a young age.

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

The man never took it seriously at first, he figured he was just getting older and blamed it on age.

After a few weeks, the man has developed an incredible frequent and annoying cough.
His wife is annoyed and is constantly telling him to go the doctor, but the man kept refusing.

One day during an argument, his wife has had it with his coughing and hacking and tells him "Im making a bet, if this damn coughin kills you i'm writing ' I told you so' on your tombstone!"
The man laughs her off since they both have a twisted sense of humor, and tells her its a deal, if the coughin kills him she can carve that.
The man continues on for another week

One day the man is out going for a walk through his neighborhood, when a freak accident occurs between a truck carrying coffins and a car, which results in a coffin flying off the truck, tragically landing on the old man and kills him.

Later at his funeral, his wife makes a very odd request to have them carve "I told you so" on his headstone.

When the caretaker asks her why she wants to do this, she tells him about their dark humor, and fills him in on the bet they recently made.
The caretaker is touched by the story, and agrees to do it for her, because in the end,

It was that damn coffin that killed him

A baker and his wife had a child. A lovely, healthy boy. Since the wife was mad about history, she wanted to give the boy a name suitable for a man destined for great things. Jokes were made, names proposed, but in the end the decision was made - they named the boy Attila.

Attila showed great potential from an early age - he excelled at sports, grew strong, but his other capabilities were astonishing as well. He learned and went through encyclopedias like a fire through forests. Surely enough, he was bound to become a great man some day.

Apart from being an exceptional young man, he loved animals as well. He was kind and compassionate, equally cherishing all forms of life. Since his parents loved him so much, they bought him all he ever wanted - but he did not ask for much, he was never greedy.

Growing up, he has received many animals as pets - there were cats, dogs, hamsters and even exotic animals - tarantulas, snakes, scorpions, you name it.

Their home became a sort of an animal sanctuary, and Attila took care of all animals with love and passion. But, the family business was starting to suffer when his father the baker got ill.

Being the amazing young man he was, Attila stepped up and started learning secrets of the trade - he started baking like no one else.

But, since he devoted his time to the bakery, the animals were starting to be neglected. He tried feeding them, petting them, but nothing helped.

Slowly, one by one the animals passed away leaving behind only the most resistant ones - the snake and a few spiders.

The spiders were easy to take care of, but the snake wouldn't eat, no matter what. Saddened, Attila came to his mother and asked for advice as he was all out of ideas. Of course, being the caring mother she always was, she passed on her knowledge to Attila:

"This anaconda don't want none, unless you got buns, Hun."

I was buying some stuff in the supermarket the other day, and I was queueing behind an old man, and his middle aged daughter.

The woman seemed to be rushing, and she was frantically looking for her reusable bag. She said to the grandad,

"Where's the bag dad?"

He replied,

"Somewhere in Iraq I think."

He then looked at me and started chuckling to himself while his daughter groaned and got in with looking for the bag. I laughed with him. We shared a moment.

Sadly I never really got to know my dad past age 8. He died before I could really understand the art of the dadjoke. Reading a lot of these stories and jokes make me feel like this is how my dad would have been and it makes me giddy, almost to the point of tears some days! I can't help but smile every time I look at this subreddit!

So thanks y'all, and keep on keepin' on!

So my 5 year old son always asks what I’m watching or playing (video games) and most of the time sits and watches for a while.

I had been binge watching The Office, so of course he would overhear most of the jokes. One day we were over our friends house who has a daughter my sons age. We sit down to eat some burgers and hot dogs, and out of nowhere my son belts out “DON’T DROP THE SOAP!”.

We all died laughing.

He shall be a good dad someday.

This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.

One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.

One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.

One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”

The funniest and shortest puns for kids, you always remember while teaching children puns, try to choose the short ones because they are easy for them to remember and register.

Puns for Kids

Why are teddy bears never hungry? They are always stuffed!

What do you get when you cross a snake and a pie? A pie-thon!

Where do polar bears vote? The North Poll.

What did the judge say when the skunk walked into the court room? Odor in the court!

Two silkworms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

Why are fish so smart? Because they live in schools.

The streets in the capital of Afghanistan are paved with Kabulstones.

How does a lion greet the other animals in the field? Pleased to eat you.

What do you get when a chicken lays an egg on top of a barn? An egg roll!

No matter how much you push the envelope, it will still be stationery.

Why did the turkey cross the road? To prove he wasn’t chicken!

What musical is about a train conductor? “My Fare, Lady”.

A man drowned in a bowl of muesli. A strong currant pulled him in.

What do you get from a pampered cow? Spoiled milk.

What animals are on legal documents? Seals!

Why did the lion spit out the clown? Because he tasted funny!

Why did the bumble bee leave the house? It heard the school was having a spelling bee.

Being struck by lightning is really a shocking experience!

How do celebrities stay cool? They have many fans!

Why do fish live in salt water? Because pepper makes them sneeze!

Dockyard: A physician’s garden.

What did the angry mother say to the boiling pot of spaghetti? Simmer down!

The lights were too bright at the Chinese restaurant so the manager decided to dim sum.

“What’s purple and 5000 miles long?” “Ooh! I know! The Grape Wall of China!”

Every calendar’s days are numbered.

This duck walks into a bar and orders a beer. “Four bucks,” says the bartender. “Put it on my bill.”

I used to be twins. My mother has a picture of me when I was two.

What sound do porcupines make when they kiss? Ouch!

When does a well-dressed lion look like a weed? When he’s a dandelion (dandy lion).

Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a-salted.

A bicycle can’t stand on its own because it is

The other day, I was researching the stock market because I thought it wise to start investing at an early age. After hours of research and going through the myriad shares I could buy, I passed by one that caught my eye...the Teucrium Corn Fund. I could invest in corn, that'll surely stay steady, everyone needs corn! However, after awhile of second guessing myself, as I often do, I decided that I hold off on the stock market until I did more research and study. Yes, I'll invest in corn stocks when I have an ear for it.

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

I was sitting in my room playing with my dog, his name is Buster. My dog was being hyper while getting used to his new home.

My dad walks in and starts telling me about when he was my age and got a new dog.

( Insert sad music from the world's smallest violin here )

Dad: "When I was your age, my dad got me a pooch. His name was Rocket. I got him when he was around 4 years old, so he was pretty big. One day, I was working on my dad's truck and had a bucket of old gas sitting next to me. Rocket was outside playing around, being himself and came up to me. I slid back under the truck and heard some gulping sounds. I look over and see Rocket drinking big gulps of the gasoline. I screamed at him," Rocket No! You don't drink that!" Then he backed up, stumbling. I felt my heart sink to my stomach, I knew something was wrong with him. He took off running around the house. He ran around the house 2-3 times. Then he just fell over.."

Me: "Dead!?"

Dad: "Nah, he just ran out of gas."

Fuck off, Dad.

Surrounded by his family.

Trying to extract some final wisdoms from him and keep him company in his final days, his son asks "What's the part of your life that sticks out to you most Dad?"

He responds "I can perfectly remember my youth. Those summer days fifty years ago seem in my mind to be as clear and perfect as this moment now."

His son exclaims "Wow, fifty years! Your memory was always so impressive, even in your old age pop"

"But of course" his dad says back, "hindsight is 2020"

Her name was Ninety and she had three kids. One day, the kids found a stray cat in their backyard and they decided to take care of it. However, they knew that their mother would disapprove, so in order to keep it a secret, they used "This" when referring to the cat. Eventually, the cat died of old age and the kids moved on with their lives. Therefore, only Ninety's kids will remember This.

So when I was younger my Dad would sometimes make me a root beer float/ice cream float/coke float/etc. But one day my Dad asks me, "Hey do you want a wood float?" I'm not exactly sure what a wood float is, but my experiences with floats in general have gone AMAZINGLY well through this point in my life. So I say yes without giving it too much thought. My Dad brings me a glass of water with a toothpick in it. Enormous grin on his face. Very much the opposite on mine.

I now realize at the age of 26, that the only reason he ever made me the root beer floats and other floats, was just to set me up for one of the Daddest jokes of all time.

Having said that, I will be using this on my child.

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

My dad told me this the first time on Halloween night back when I was 9. He tells it to this day to any of my cousins, nephews, or any kids that happen to linger too long at the house when he's giving out candy. It's a long one but I have always enjoyed it.

Back when I was about your age, I went on a Halloween adventure. There was an old abandoned house on our street where a series of grisly axe murders had taken place years before. The house had never sold and was left vacant and was left to fall apart. There was a local legend that if you went into the house on Halloween night, you'd be confronted by the ghost of the murderer himself, still looking for more victims to add to his terrifying story.

My friend Tom and I decided to go through with it one year. Knowing everyone would be too terrified to go into the house, we snuck in easily on Halloween night. The place was falling apart inside, the carpet was wet and moldy and the wallpaper was peeling off everywhere. We headed down carefully to the basement down a set of creaky stairs.

At first we found nothing. Just an empty creepy old house. Suddenly we felt as if we were being watched. I was looking through one of the rooms in the large basement when I suddenly heard Tom shriek. I spun around and turned my flashlight and Tom was being chased by something, no someone. It looked like it was the murderer! A crazed man with an axe!

We turned and tried to run anywhere. We were in the basement but couldn't get up the stairs because we were blocked. We ran into the side room which looked like it might have been the laundry years ago. We locked the door and looked for a way out. The only thing we could find was a small window that opened onto ground level. As I climbed out I heard a pounding on the door. I managed to wriggle my way through the window and turned around to help my friend Tom. Panicking, he managed to get his top half through the window when I noticed the pounding stop.

Tom was stuck! I kept trying to pull him up but I couldn't. I pulled as hard as I could as Tom panicked and thrashed even more. I thought something had him caught, but it was even worse. The murderer had gotten behind him and was holding him back! He was too strong for me to overcome and he was pulling Tom's leg!

Just like I've been pulling yours this whole time.

It was summer in Australia, and I was still in high school. One of the students asked our middle aged, male math teacher to turn on the air conditioner, as it was a stinker that day.

He responded by going over to the air conditioner and saying "oh yeah baby, do you like that?"

Just saw this on facebook...

A woman in her eighties made the evening news because she was getting married for the fourth time. The following day she was being interviewed by a local TV station, and the commentator asked about what it felt to be married again at that age and would she share part of her previous experiences, since it seem quite unique the fact that her new husband was a ‘funeral director.’ After a short time to think, a smile came to her face and she proudly explained that she had first married a banker when she was in her twenties, in her forties she married a circus ring master, and in her sixties she married a pastor and now in her eighties, a funeral director. The amazed commentator asked her why she had married men with such diverse carriers. With a smile on her face she explained, ‘I married one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go.’

This isn't a joke that came from a dad or anything but I hope it's worthy!

My father started waiting in 1979 and took one of his first jobs at this extremely fancy and expensive restaurant. The type of place that the waiters wore tuxedos and whatnot. Anyways my dad worked with this guy named Froggy (nickname of course) whom my dad still praises to this day that he's one of the best waiters he's ever worked with.

Anyways, one night it's extremely busy and both my father and Froggy were rushing around trying to keep up. Well Froggy had this table with about 5-7 people all who looked like they wore expensive clothing, ordered the best food and so on. Well one of the guys ordered a baked potato as a side and Froggy proceeds with typical waiter stuff as asks if he wanted sour cream with his baked potato. The man says yes so Froggy scoops the cream and attempts to place it on the potato. Well... as he was moving to place it on, the cream slipped off and right onto this guys extremely expensive sweater... Completely in shock, the customer turns to Froggy and without missing a beat, Froggy slowly turns his head in a comical fashion towards the ceiling and proclaims "Those damn pigeons!"

Needless to say every single person in that table were crying with laughter, including my father one table over who observed the whole ordeal. Froggy said he'd pay for the dry cleaning and the customer said not to worry about it because it was the most hilarious thing he's seen in ages.

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."

Apologies for not following the usual formatting. My father-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago. A few weeks ago, we learned it had spread to his brain. Later that day, he told me:

“Well, everyone came by after they heard about the lung cancer and told me how strong and great I am, and that I’d beat lung cancer...”

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

Edit: thank you all for the kind words (and the silver/gold/platinum...I’ll be making matching gifts to St. Jude’s or a similar organization).

Yes he was a great man. At age 20 he was given 3 months to live due to another ‘incurable’ disease. He stuck around for another 45+ years. I could go on and on...

An askhole.

I didn't even laugh at first. I immediately asked if he'd heard it somewhere. He said he hadn't, that he'd come up with it on his own. When I asked him when he did that, he said it was when we were leaving for church (earlier that day). Then I had a good laugh.

I helped him tweak the setup a little, and then I had him tell his momma. I laughed even harder when she sat in stunned silence for a few seconds and then busted out laughing with her hands over her mouth.

We explained to him that while the joke was not wholly appropriate for his age, it most certainly was funny.

Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken