History of sport Puns

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

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

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

What do you call a Mexican who has lost his car? Carlos.

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

Can I watch the TV? Dad: Yes, but don’t turn it on.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

You know, people say they pick their nose, but I feel like I was just born with mine.

“Every time I hurt myself, even to this day, my dad says, ‘The good news is..it’ll feel better when it quits hurting.'”

What’s brown and sticky? A stick.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? Great food, no atmosphere.

“I’ll call you later!”- “Please don’t do that. I’ve always asked you to call me Dad!”

Q: Why did the cookie cry? A: Because his father was a wafer so long!

What did the mountain climber name his son? Cliff.

This graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in there.

“My dad literally told me this one last week: ‘Did you hear about the guy who invented Lifesavers? They say he made a mint.’”

“Whenever the cashier at the grocery store asks my dad if he would like the milk in a bag he replies, ‘No, just leave it in the carton!’”

I got so angry the other day when I couldn’t find my stress ball.

If I had a dime for every book I’ve ever read, I’d say: “Wow, that’s coincidental.”

I’m not indecisive. Unless you want me to be.

How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.

How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.

“Me: ‘Dad, make me a sandwich!’ Dad: ‘Poof, You’re a sandwich!’”

“I heard there was a new store called Moderation. They have everything there

A steak pun is a rare medium well done.

“How can you tell if a ant is a boy or a girl? They’re all girls, otherwise they’d be uncles.”

Milk is also the fastest liquid on earth – its pasteurized before you even see it

“What’s Forrest Gump’s password? 1forrest1”

The only thing worse than having diarrhea is having to spell it.

I asked my friend to help me with a math problem. He said: “Don’t worry; this is a piece of cake.” I said: “No, it’s a math problem.”

I keep trying to lose weight, but it keeps finding me.

I don’t play soccer because I enjoy the sport. I’m just doing it for kicks.

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

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?

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."

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