Great Lakes Puns

I said, “Huron.”

Erie guardless

But one of them is definitely Superior.

He said it was too Erie for him

It had me fondly thinking back to the time years ago when my friend Mitchell and I toured four of the five Great Lakes one summer.

I wonder if I’ll ever see Mitch again?

I was on a bus route headed to Target to pick up some groceries. I was in a hurry so I had opted for the express route. The bus picks up on the part of my college campus where the streets are named after the great lakes. We pass Erie and Ontario, and the bus driver comes over the intercom and says:

"This bus will be express from Huron out."

Everybody groans, the driver has a good chuckle, and I begin laughing like a maniac.

Backstory: I'm a flight instructor, and I was teaching one of my students about the "Area Forecast". We were going through which areas of the country the forecast covered, and in addition to a bunch of states, there's a few lakes, like Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, Lake Huron, etc.

Her: "Why are these lakes included in the forecast?"

Me: "Because they're pretty great."

Additional backstory: I will be a dad of 2 in less than a month.

I just came back from a holiday back to the UK to visit friends and family (am an expat).

While we were there we went to a nice community festival, with some great beers. An American friend of a friend proudly proclaimed that he’d bought a pint of red stout.

Looking up at the board, and seeing the name of the beer, my eyes lit up: a golden opportunity had just presented itself.

‘Nah mate, that’s not red stout, it’s called Red Stoat. You do know what a stoat is, right?

[confusion]

‘Well, it’s a little rodent, a bit like a weasel. You know how you can tell the difference between a stoat and a weasel?’

‘Er..’

‘Well’, I says, ‘a weasel is weasily identifiable, and a stoat is stoatally different.’

Cue a puzzled look on the guys face, and a moment’s silence, broken by me and my friend pissing ourselves laughing, not at the joke of course, but at his reaction.

So this was all very well and good, just another in the litany of bad jokes that floats in my wake, and I thought the story ended there.

Karma, however, had other plans…

A few days later, we’re up in the Lake District, walking back to the hotel after a pub dinner. As we’re walking down the road, we see a small carnivorous rodent dragging the recently deceased body of a rabbit back to its home. It was either a stoat, or a weasel, but you know what? I honestly had no way to tell which…