Do support Puns

On the web

He's such a neigh-sayer.

Zebra

I'm in recovery.

I would never armadillo.

Post Alone

A deadbeet

I do. I've been married to your mom and having the same sex for 30 years.

A Youcan

There was, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.

“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”

“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.

“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”

“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”

His students registered dismay and anguish.

“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.

“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.

“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”

Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi

... and you still hate him now. But now he's an official resident of Florida and I may see him differently now. I've seen a lot of hate thrown his way, but this guy is a consistent winner and an overachiever. That's what the people who support him love about him. Yes, there have been some scandals. Yes, there have been some lies and maybe a few times he's twisted the truth to make himself look better. He's out there everyday proving those haters wrong time after time. Call it jealously, call it envy. Some people just can't handle how successful he is and how much money he has. They could even be jealous that he's got a hot, foreign model as his wife. You may not have wanted him in this role, but he's there now and there is nothing you or I can do about it. I know it'll possibly get worse over the next several days, but like him or not, Tom Brady is turning things around in Tampa Bay.

The Prince of the vultures had always been a rebel, but he surprised everyone when he announced he was going to be a vegetarian. And nobody expected this to divide the vulture kingdom, with nearly half the vultures supporting the Prince's choice. Tempers flared, and civil war was brewing when the Prince burst into the King's chambers.

"Father," he cried, "I never meant to cause this. I'll do anything you say to reunite the kingdom. Please, Father, what should I eat?"

The King set a plate of roadkill in front of the Prince, and said "Carrion, my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done."

I replied "no, you do" and unplugged his life support.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

An end-user learning a new system wanting to initiate an outgoing letter to a patient: "How do I start a letter?"

Me: "Usually with 'Dear Sir or Madam...'"

"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

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

Future wife was getting ready for work and put on these socks that I hadn't seen before. I asked what they were and she said they were supportive socks... I immediately grabbed one out of her drawer and put it on my hand like a sock puppet and spoke with a high-pitched muppet voice.

Puppet: You look nice today.
Puppet: You're going to have a great day.
Puppet: You can do it!
Her: What are you doing?
Puppet: Being supportive.
Me: <laughs>
Her: Oh my God.

My family/town has socially alienated me for my sexuality. This has lead to quite a couple of problems, as you could imagine.

I've been behind on my taxes for quite a bit and it was only a matter of time before the government found out. They've been having a field day confiscating all my belongings.

That leaves me on the street.

I make enough money panhandling and doing under the table stuff to get me food every day and even enough to pay for an unlimited data plan, which I'm using to write this.

I need support. I can't continue on like this.

Life's not easy.

Especially if you're a homelessexual like me.

Son: “yes, I have a few”

Me “you do? Where do you buy your underwear?”

After a few second pause, my son says: “Dick’s Supporting Goods”

EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.

( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )

Hey everybody,

The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.

Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.

You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.

That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.

So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.

Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:

• You live in a very different timezone to Syd, AU - GMT+10
• You have a good sense of humour
• You're not in this purely to grow your 'net rep
• You're interested in being fair, and maintaining fairness
• You maintain civility in yourself and your responses at all times
• You have a bit of time every day to go through reports, spam, and post comments
• You understand that your moderatorship will initially be a trial, and can be revoked at any time if you aren't being magical and rad
• Some general CSS/subreddit formatting knowledge wouldn't go astray, but is not required

Here's what I am not looking for:

• Strong, cemented opinions about what constitutes a dad joke and what doesn't - everybody's dad and humour is different
• An overzealous post remover - I am not looking for an enforcer, the title moderator implies moderation
• A(nother) dictator - it is my preference that this subreddit be gently guided, and not forcibly ruled, we let the community find itself and we listen to what they say

If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int

Starting on the 1st of December and running until the 10th, /r/dadjokes will be self-post only. This 10 day trial is being conducted to measure the overall effect on post quality. We hope to see a reduction in posts that exist purely for karma-gaming, and an increase in posts that represent our favourite dad jokes and stories.

This is not a ban on images. You may still link to pictures within your self-post - but you will no longer receive karma for doing so. Also as a suggestion try and be witty about it, don't just post pictures as the only content in the post. If there is a story behind it (involving your dad or anyones dad) then give that more of a preference and use the picture as a supporting arm for the joke, remember to be nice and the punnier the better.

As always, we're open to hearing your thoughts on the matter - and this thread will be stickied for the 10 days so that you can pop in and let us know how you feel the trial is going.

The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the village tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you." Yes, she says, "I remember it well."

OK, he says, "How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time's sake?"

"Oh Jim, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!" A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I've got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them so there's no trouble. So he follows them.

The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks. Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in.. Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground.

The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn't know.

After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on. The policeman, is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing, I've got to ask them what their secret is.

So, as the couple passes, he says to them, "Excuse me, but that was something else. You must've had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?"

Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply,"Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."

My Dad was the worst. And by that, I mean the best. He had a Dad Joke for everything.

I accidently left my wallet in my pants and they went through the wash?

"Don't you know it's illegal to launder money?" He would crack.

We would drive by the cemetery and he would always remark.

"That place is so popular, people are dying to get in"

Many groans were had.

I would ask him, "Dad, where do you get all these awful jokes?" and he looked square in the eye and said.

"Son, on the day you were born - your Grandfather - my father gave me a book. '1001 Dad Jokes' and that where I get them from"

And life continued. Any opportunity to crack wise he would take it. Even when I moved out and got my own place it didn't stop. I had my Dad over to help me repaint the walls from cream to white.

"Boy" He whistled. "This wall sure pales in comparison to that one"

My eyes rolled and he just shrugged. "It's the book!"

He couldn't even help himself at my wedding and broke out a Dad Joke during the toast.

"If this is the toast, where are the eggs?"

"Sorry son, it's the book!" He said with a devilish grin.

So months pass and my wife is in labor at the hospital with our first child. I'm sitting in the waiting room with my dad for support. Suddenly, a nurse comes out beaming with glee.

"Congratulations, sir! It's a girl!"

Me and my dad jump up and whoop for joy, hugging. I can't wait to go in and see my wife and child.

"Wait son" My dad says and pulls a little book out of his jacket pocket. "This is for you"

I look at the little book and sure enough, it's "1001 Dad Jokes"

I tear up instantly.

"I...I.." I stammer.."I'm touched.."

My dad gets the world's biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hi touched...." He pauses for effect.

"I'm Dad"

Seems like a vas improvement so far.

The urologist told me that I need to use an athletic supporter for 3 to 7 days following the procedure but he also said not to ejaculate for at least a week so what exactly am I supposed to do with this cheerleader in my basement?

Speaking of birth control, what's the difference between permanent female sterilization and a Russian bakery? Well, one's a tubal ligation, the other's a Ruble pie station.

My greatest regret in all this is that I can no longer dress up for Halloween as a pirate and carrying around a sign that says, "Ask me what I use to convey sperm from my testicle to my urethra," for the sake of replying, "A vas, matey!"

Look, these are hard to come up with and my nads are sore. Give me something to make the wife groan that sexy, "why did I marry you" groan that we all love.

A Call to Arms A Plead to the Limbless

The Armless are a stump among society and could easily achieve more. It’s bothersome that somebody with great potential could allow themselves to lose grip of what they aspire for. The radius of support and development that surrounds these people is astounding. Yet they bite the hand that feeds and throw away opportunities. With each passing day they are crippled by the errors in their ways. Not only are they not properly handling the situation, they are doing a disservice to society. Most will say to refrain from pointing fingers, but it is pertinent that we show them their faults.
All aside we should most certainly not try to elbow my way into their lives. However, if they were to branch off into their own progressive groups it would be most beneficial. And severance is a good thing between them and the public. This doesn't mean a complete amputation of them from society. Perhaps selective assistance will help these people find a well fitted sleeve within their communities. This process is difficult and lending a helping hand can make the difference. On the other hand, we have those who don’t try to succeed. Their negligence is worthy of more than a mere slap on the wrist. When somebody refuses to apply themselves, they are holding back progress. By giving themselves mental limitation they are creating a prosthetic disability they must abide by. The majority of working to achieve goals is believing you can reach out and grab them. But, somebody who gives up is cutting themselves short of success Seeing somebody give up is the furthest thing from being humerus. Urging these people is a necessity, otherwise they will never try their hardest, encourage them to use some elbow grease and put forth full effort. Any small contribution is better than being a detriment, community service, obtaining greater education, enlisting in the armed forces, these all benefit society. Drastic changes of this scale are sure to cause discontent, grab a tissue if need be, but never give up. For all those that are currently wasting away without contribution, it's time to limb’er up and take charge.

and the fact that there is a giant artificially planted tree in our back yard that is going to get too big to support itself eventually, or whatever, and we'd have to cut it down. I said we'd have to relocate the birds that have made a home in our tree first, naturally, or wait for them to leave. He said "how are you going to relocate the birds? You can't just send them an email and be like 'be out of here by next Thursday'." There was a pause, and moments later he says "oh you know what to do. " "You send them a tweet."

He said "I'm not in favor of that" I asked "I thought you supported same sex marriage" He said:

"I do, I'm against inter-Rachel marriages"

Me: "Oh, you're English. What's your favorite​ football team?"

Him: "We don't say that in Britain. We say 'who do you support?' "

Me: "Ah, okay. Who do you support?"

Him: "my wife and kids."

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:

So this was a few years ago I had just been diagnosed with brain cancer and I had go to a clinic and deposit some sperm before I started chemo. My dad said he would drive me there for emotional support. So I go in the back room, do my business, then on the elevator ride down my dad leans in and asks "did everything cum out ok?"

Got my wife with two the other day when we were grocery shopping.

She goes to get a ginger root from the produce section, and I yell at her

STOP!!

"...what?" she asks

I answer "You are doing it wrong, you have to pick it up carefully"

And i proceed to very slowly lift one ginger root out of the pile, being extra careful to support it.

"...what are you doing?" My wife is now very confused.

"You have to lift it......gingerly".

She hits me.

Not five minutes later, we are getting celery.

"I think this one looks familiar" I say

"What?" again, she falls into my trap

"Yeah....this one has been following me around, creepily, from a distance. It's a Celery Stalk(er)."

She hit me again.

Younger bro: I probably won't support Chelsea as my London team anymore...

Older bro: I would support Brentside as your London team

Dad: Do you know who I support in London?

Brothers: Who?

Dad: a wife and three kids :D

My mum groaned but we (brothers and I) appreciated it...

I was walking down an aisle scanning prices and all that jazz and a customer comes up to me and asks:

Customer: "Hi sir, do you know where I can find a wall plug?

Me: "A wall plug? What do you mean?"

Customer: "You know that thing you put on the screw for better support? Do you know what I'm talking about?"

Me: "Yeah, they'll be right here" I told him while we were walking to where they were.

Customer: "OH! So how do you call them?"

I couldn't remember the name of it so I told him "I don't call them. Unfortunately, they don't have phone numbers."

The look he gave me was like he was disappointed and amused at the same time.

My little brother was fascinated by the picture of the 466 lb flounder that has been going around lately and I told him my dad would be interested. Little bro: "Look at how big this fish is dad!" Pops: "That is an absolute shame, you shouldn't be supporting that." Little bro: "Why? Are they not going to eat it?" Pops: "No. They do it just for the halibut." Me: [audible sigh]

So I do tech support type stuff for a local company and they were having an issue with the phone, and we resolved that the problem was not the phone, nor the wire. We next tested the phone jack....sure enough, there's the problem. I could hardly contain myself when I told the manager that I found the problem.

"What is it?", he asked.

"It looks like you're one jack off!"

Cracked me up!