Hold Me to This Puns

Kid: Hey dad, look at that! (Points with his finger to something off in the distance.)

Me: (Looking in direction he's pointing) What? Where? I don't see anything.

Kid: (Still pointing) Right there, look, you see it?

Me: (Still looking, getting annoyed that I don't see it) WHAT? What is it??

Kid: (Holding up the same finger) It's my finger!

I have been doing this to him recently and it always gets him. I love that he's able to totally get me with it now.

Edit: MY oldest, not Mt oldest. Not sure what the oldest mountain is, but it probably isn't as funny as my oldest kid is becoming.

https://preview.redd.it/wa3s3ozxftc61.png?width=4500&format=png&auto=webp&s=04f10d36e95914e4d39ec2312ce5176a062911b1

Who thinks they're punny?! 😜⠀⠀I sketched this Hellraiser holding a cactus and thought it'd make a cute Valentine's Day card. I'm in the process of colouring it and I want YOU to help me caption it.⠀

I've asked the question on IG (@ashrobertsondesign) but didn't get a lot of feedback so I'm reaching out here. Gimme your best prick, point, hell, etc. related puns n make it about love 🔥

I'll choose a favourite from the comments and turn it into a FREE Valentine's Day card printable.

Ok, so this one needs a bit of buildup.

At the time (a week or so ago) I was making a homebrew item for DnD (for the uninformed, Homebrew are custom made items/classes/spells to use in a DnD game at the discretion of the DM (Dungeon Master)).

I had shown this item (shameless plug) to my friend (who is also the DM of the campaign I'm in now) in the hopes of using it in the campaign. He had pointed out that the item was a bit OP for it's cost and that the homebrew page I had made for it was too long. We were discussing ways to improve both the item and the page, and then got on the topic of magic items in general.

It went something along the lines of this:

DM: ... you can't really destroy a magic item before removing the magic from it. Like, you could try to melt down a magic sword for example, but all that would really do is make it too hot to hold. You could even bend it, but not outright destroy it.

Me: That's gotta be one pissed off magic sword.

DM: I mean, yeah, if it's sentient.

Me: Maybe it got so angry at being bent, that it gains sentience just spite you or something.

DM: Well, yeah maybe.

And this, people of reddit, is when the PUN, popped into my head.

Me: *leans in* you could say that the sword gained sentience cuz it got... bent out of shape.

A second or two of silence, and I see the pun register in his head, and I fucking lost it.

I then laugh for a straight minute. After about ten secunds of me busting a gut, he said "Aight, Imma head out"

We're cool now, but he really didn't want to talk to me the next day.

She walked up to me, hands behind her back..

"Check it out, dad! This is really funny looking!"

"What? Lemme see..."

And the little shit holds up a mirror to my face, giggling her head off.

Payback is a bitch, little girl....

"Greetings, comrade." says the spy, but before he could finish his sentence, the Russian says, "I think you are American spy."

The spy is alarmed, but being a skilled, trained, spy, he says, "That is not true! I am the proudest Soviet there is! I can sing the anthem more beautifully than any other man in the country!"

He then proceeds to sing the Soviet anthem, so melodically and beautifully, that everybody in the bar cheers.

"Very good, very good!" says the politician. "But I still think you are spy."

The man continues to keep his cool.

"I am a historian! I can tell you everything about this glorious country!"

He then spends about two hours recounting the Revolution, the Great Patriotic War, about how superior to the Russia is in terms of technology compared to America and makes a great argument about how communism is beneficial to society.

"Amazing! You are skilled!" says the politician.

The spy smirks.

"But I still think you American spy."

The spy is getting frustrated, but still unfazed.

He replies, "I am good drinker, a true Russian! Let us drink, and see who can come out top!"

The bar turns its attention to the politician and the spy, who are now in a drinking contest.

The bartender serves drink after drink of vodka.

After about an hour of drinking, the politician nearly passes out, unable to hold as much liquor as the spy, to a resounding cheer amongst the bar.

In the midst of the cheering, the Russian politician gets up, smiling, and in a slurred speech, repeats, "You are good, you are good... but I still think you are spy."

The American spy, piss drunk, loses his skill and gives up.

"Okay, you got me. I am an American. But what made you think that way, after all this time?"

The Russian politician replies, "There aren't many black people in Russia."

This joke holds a special place in my heart. My grandpa told me it and I never forgot it. About 2 years later when I brought it up to him, he didn't remember it. So I told him the joke and he peed himself laughing ... At his own joke.

"Why did the man ask for his eggs Benedict to be served on a hubcap?"

"Because there's no plate like chrome for the hollandaise"

Student: “Hey can you check this to see if it’s right?”

Student hands me their writing.

Me, holding their paper upside down: “well, first of all, it’s written upside down.”

And then I give it back to them and walk away as if nothing happened.

this happened a few years ago. It's about my dad and something my dad would have laughed hard at.

phone rings I pick up

me: Hello

TeleMarketer: Hello is Mr ThrashandBurn's Dad available?

Me: ahhhh no he isn't

TM: do you know a better way to reach him?

with out hesitation

ME: Not unless you got a shovel.

I could hear him holding back his laugh wile trying to give his condolences.

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?

Once upon a time there were three little pigs, Pork Chop, Hambone, and Bacon.

The boys lived at home with their mother. One day their mother said, “I no longer have enough food to feed you boys, you need to go out on your own and find your fortunes.”

Not wanting to upset their mother they left the house together to seek their fortunes.

Several miles into their journey Bacon, the little pig everyone liked best, said, “Let’s build our houses here! This seems like a great place to start making our fortunes.”

Pork Chop and Hambone agreed. So they all began building their houses.

Pork Chop, the laziest of the bunch, decided to build his house out of straw, which he apparently stole from a nearby field. It was not a very sturdy building material, but Pork Chop didn’t care. All he wanted to do was play all day, and he didn’t want to spend too much time building.

Hambone was willing to work a bit harder and he decided to build his house out of sticks which he procured by de-limbing every tree within a 300 meter radius of their homestead.

Hambone and Pork Chop were happy. Now all they had to do was to play and sleep the rest of the day.

Now Bacon was a hard worker. He knew that his brothers had used bad materials and shoddy construction methods and he wanted to build the best house he could. He found several tons of bricks stacked in neatly ordered pallets in the forest which he decided to use for his building material. It took him several days, but when he was done Bacon had the best house on the homestead.

The next day a wolf, Scott Howard, happened upon the pig brothers and their new homestead. He spied the straw house and smelled Pork Chop inside and began to think to himself that Pork Chop would make a mighty fine meal, so Scott went and knocked on the door.

Scott said, “Little Pig! Little Pig! Let me in!”

Pork Chop replied, “No way José! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!”

Scott, undeterred by the reply says, “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your crappy straw house to the ground!”

Scott began to huff and puff. He was evidently having some sort of asthma attack, but after a few tugs from his handy dandy rescue inhaler, he was able to muster enough wind to blow Pork Chops straw house to the ground.

Pork Chop narrowly escaped Scott’s massive jaws. Scared, and now homeless, Pork Chop ran for the nearest shelter he could see. Hambone’s house.

Scott, undeterred, chased Pork Chop to his new hiding place. Scott was very pleas

My grandmother was cremated and we were having a service to pay our respects. I was scared and didn't want to go up to the altar alone so my dad went with me.

We stood there, side by side, and stared in reverent silence at the small simple wooden box which was holding my grandmother's ashes. After a minute or so passed my father bowed slightly, leaning in with what I assumed would be words of wisdom and said, "your grandmother was a lot smaller than I remember."

I had to fight just not to bust out laughing in a room full of mourners.

I was told to cross post this here from an askreddit thread yesterday

Disclaimer, I am a mom, not a dad and my teenager gave me a dirty look when I told her this joke which I was very pleased to think up.

[Scene: Hospital Delivery Room.

Father holding his bundled newborn.

Mother of the child looking on lovingly from hospital bed.]

Mother: What shall we name him?

Father: His name is Mike.

(drops baby)

I needed to run to Home Depot just a little while ago, and my eight year old son has been driving my wife insane, so he was sent with me. He asked a hundred questions about what tool does what and why I needed this or that. Despite my distracted supervision, he surely mixed up several loose nuts and bolts.

At the exit of the self checkout line, there's a massive gumball machine that holds massive gumballs. I rarely carry change, so he's out of luck.

Sonny Boy: Dad, can I have a quarter?

Me (checking out): Nope. Don't have one.

Sonny Boy: You don't have any cents?

Me: If I had any cents, I'd have left you at home tonight.

No, he didn't get it, and I'm shocked he set it up so well by saying cents. But, the dude in the line next to me let out a solid guffaw. We made the satisfying, knowing eye contact of two dad joke aficionados. I'm glad someone else heard it.

Not many people are aware of its existence but I assure that it is there all the same. The king of this little land faces a lot of difficulty. He wants to make his kingdom into a sovereign nation but unfortunately they do not have the infrastructure, population, or economy to do so. In fact, this small state is only known for a single export. Thanks to their proximity to some of the finest gold and other metals in the world but total lack of an ability to process those metals on a mass scale, they have been left with only one option. You know the saying; when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Make lemonade they did. This tiny territory is renowned for creating the highest quality watches in the world. No expense is spared and their elite group of craftsmen train for their entire lives from childhood to produce these terrific timepieces. Men of great wealth and taste have been known to trade entire fortunes for just a single one of these watches; that is how valuable they are.

The king knows this and he knows that only a small portion of his populace can ever hope to become one of the respected elite, let alone hold one of their masterpieces in their own hands. Being a very just and fair man, the king ordered the most senior watchmaker in the land to create something the likes of which had never been seen. A watch of such great craftsmanship so as to be above monetary value. The man labored long and hard for many nights to produce the king's watch. When he at last presented the completed work to his lord - in front of the entire nation, no less - he was met with thunderous applause and a warm embrace. He had done it! The king then made a shocking announcement.

"This masterpiece belongs to my people!"

When the roaring of the crowd died down he continued.

"This watch shall be a symbol of my love for all of you. Though I rule over you with supreme authority I do not wish a single one of you to feel that you do not have a voice in the ruling of this nation. From this day on let anyone who doubts my decisions or questions my judgment wear this watch and stand as my equal to voice their concerns. Should even a single one of you think me unfair or wrong in any matter then simply come to my castle and I will present you this token of good faith."

The king made good on his word and from that day on all citizens knew they held the right to challenge their king's rulings. Over time the watch became a symbol of fairness throughout the land. Anyone who wore it

This morning my son was about to put on his socks.

I: -wait, are there holes in your socks?

Son: -Yes, of course! Or else i wouldn't be able to get my fot into them. *holds up socks for me to see while extending hole at the top with fingers.

Me: -Hmrp... *sectretly feeling proud.

So My roomate invited me to his family Thanksgiving/holiday party yesterday. After dessert we're all sitting around and the children present are being rowdy. My roomate's brother calls them all over to our table and insists on showing them how to make a duck call. He begins ripping apart an empty soda can and wrapping it up in a very complicated fashion with a napkin and a plastic fork. He meticulously takes the top off, makes strips of metal, and winds them into this plastic fork. He carries on like this for about five minutes, the children utterly transfixed, sit watching until his creation is finally "complete". He then holds it up to his mouth, inhales, and shouts: "HERE DUCKY DUCKY DUCKY!!!"

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

Lol, on last year's Valentine's day my best friend had got mad at me for not asking my crush out.

We'd planned on going to McDonald's together because he didn't have a date either. When I arrived at McDonald's this f*cker was holding a cardboard box with a terrified look and when he saw me he immediately gave me the box and told me he'd already bought the food and that we better take the bus to my place. I just thought he probably was joking or something because the box didn't even have any kind of decoration, it even had a chips brand printed on it, but as we got to the bus and sat I felt something moving inside, I thought maybe it was a puppy or something, but why did he look scared of it?

So, we get to my house, I go to my backyard, where my then 7yo beagle was and I open the box. I could only see a black blur flying out of it and then heard my best friend scream. It was a rooster. He's terrified of birds. And weirdest of all it was a fully grown rooster but he was super tiny, like 10 inches tall tiny.

I asked him wtf was going on and he just kinda hid behind the backyard door and said "I bought it so that you could get some cock tonight". I always make puns and he hates them, I was speechless. So long story short I now own 6 chickens and 4 roosters (my mom got super mad at him for buying the rooster, but then she got super attached and bought him a chicken, when she laid eggs she let them hatch, the rooster's name is Enrique btw, my mom even made him a birthday party and all last week, lol)

Me: signs document

Banker: "Oh, sorry, you also have to swear to the information on this paper"

Me: "Well, that's kinda weird."

Banker: "Yeah, since this is a sworn document, you have to swear. It's weird, I know."

holds up piece of paper and makes a concentrated face

"Fuck!"

One of the guys pulls out this really, really long lighter. And his friend says, "Hey, that's a cool lighter. Where'd you get it?" He says, "Oh, I've got this magic genie in a lamp. You know, rub the lamp, get a wish." Friend goes, "Well shit, man! Don't hold out! I want a wish!" "Okay, man, but I have to warn you.. This genie is *really* old.." "All right, whatever, just give me a wish." So he rubs the lamp, the genie comes out, and grants him a wish. He says, "I want a million bucks!" "Your wish is granted," says the genie, he disappears into the lamp, and suddenly a million *ducks* descend upon this lake. The guy is baffled and says, "Hey, what's the deal? I asked for a million *bucks*, not a million *ducks*.." His friend replies, "Dude, you think I asked for a 12-inch *Bic*?"

lecture about US political culture

Prof: You guys like magic

Class: Yeah!

Prof: Okay I need a volunteer

I raised my hand so he picked me

Prof: Okay pull out a dollar bill and point out the wings of the bald eagle

I do

Prof: Okay I want you to fold the bill 3 times long ways then hand it to me

i fold it then hand it to him

Prof: You can still see the wings right? okay I am now going to fold it sideways into 3rds then I want you to hold out 3 fingers with your palm up

he places the folded bill onto my fingers with the center third flat on my hand

Prof: now say wing 3 times

Me: Wing wing wing

prof picks up the bill and holds it up to his ear

Prof: Hello?? This is Professor Frank, who is this?

The whole class couldn't stop laughing for like 10 minutes xD

This just happened about an hour ago.

I was holding my infant son, and my wife asked me to hand her the Aquaphor. I said it is a shame we don't have a Dickphor. She just stared at me.

"I don't know what you are saying," she said flatly.

"A dickphor. You know, a dickphor."

"... no idea."

"Oh you know, a dickphor." At this point I'm laughing.

"Wha... I get that you are saying 'dick' instead of 'qua', but I don't understand what that means." She was laughing too by now.

"A dickphor! You've heard of a dickphor! A dickphor!" I figured if I said it enough, she would eventually give me the reply I now needed more than anything.

"... what is a dickph-" she realized in that moment that she had given me exactly what I was after. I could see in her face that she wanted to go back, to un-ask the question. But it was too late. I couldn't hold back long enough for her to even finish the sentence.

"PEEING!" I squealed triumphantly. Not since the Parthian capharacts defeated the calvary of Crassus at Carrhae has a victory tasted so sweet.

We both laughed long enough for our 8 month old son to realize that he was doomed to a life of dadjokes.

Background: Where I live, we have these little plastic cards instead of tickets to get on trains. You load it up with money electronically and then "touch on" at the train station and "touch off" when you get off at your destination. The other day I touched on at the station. Shortly after arriving, the meeting I had been going to got postponed. So I touched off. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't been charged for sitting in the station for five minutes so I went up to the ticketing booth.

Me: Is there anyway for me to check the balance of this online or something?

Conductor: Oh, no need. I can do that for you!

He takes the card, places it on the end of his finger, and holds it up to his eyes.

Conductor: Yep, perfectly balanced!

I think he was surprised by how funny I found this.

My dad is really proud of this one. It's the only joke he's ever told that's been funny enough to make somebody laugh so hard that they spit out of their nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for this joke, so let me give you some context first:

He's been in a motorcycle accident (hit and run by an illegal immigrant), and had to have most of his vertebrae fused. They use titanium rods to hold your back from bending, so as you can imagine its kind of a major operation. His doctor prescribed a year (or longer if needed) of massage therapy, which he was thankful for. Twice a week he went in to a small clinic for a few hours at a time, and usually had the same masseuse. Let's call her Marge.

After four months of therapy they of course got to know each other very well. He was always faithful to my mother, but he was good friends with Marge. Their conversations range all the way from baseball to differentials, and everything stays platonic.

Here's where the story begins:

During a massage, they are having an energetic conversation, the time comes where he turns onto his back so that she can get to his knee ligaments (chainsawed his kneecap a few years prior, doc said may as well get there too). She goes at it like normal, and the conversation continues. Now here comes the part that made my dad wait to tell me this until recently: The "stimulation" in his knee for some reason, on that day out of all others, triggered a reflexive erection. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

The conversation goes quiet. Marge notices, but doesn't say a word. She remains professional. She continues working. My dad is more embarrassed than he's ever been. Several minutes of silence pass, and my dad cant take it anymore.

"Marge," he says, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

He raises his head to look down the table at her. He glances at it, then back to her. With a slight shake of his head he says:

"Wait nevermind, it's only his trunk"

Either she's getting wise to my jokes or she's tired of them. Doesn't matter because she got me good.

We're on a low carb diet and she recently bought a cookbook. So we go out to the store and she picks up some whey protein.

"We can make pancakes with this!", says the wife.

"No whey!" I remark, holding back my schoolgirl giggle.

She rolls her eyes, "You're whey out of line this time."

I live in South Carolina, sort of near the coast, and Hurricane Florence is headed this way. My two youngest children--total cowards--were helping me clear out all of the storm drains and curb gutters on our street to help the expected 10-20 inches of rain drain as best they can. Any time any insect flies past them, they scream bee and run away screaming. I'm talking like they're afraid of butterflies. My youngest says that Winter is her favorite season because all the bees are dead.

So, we finish up, and I go inside ahead of them, making them put the shovels away, and I hear, from inside, them running and crying/shrieking across the front porch and inside the house.

My youngest, amidst her sobs, says, "It was as big as a baseball" and holds the one I keep on my desk up for comparison.

I think make the B sign in ASL with both of my hands, stand up and say "BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ" at them while they run away in fear, and when the middle child says, "THAT'S NOT FUNNY" I keep moving towards them with my B hands while saying, "DO YOU WANT ME TO JUST LET YOU BEE? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

I'm a great dad.

Last summer, my girlfriend and I went camping. One of the days, we were having lunch by a river (a kind of a picnic sort of thing). Now, I talk a lot when I eat, so she finished eating waaaaay before I did. Once she was finished, she took to the water to cool off while I continued munching away.

Now, I guess she must have slipped or something, because all of a sudden I heard a cry and she was just gone. Washed away. I saw her head bob above the surface probably 20 yards downstream, and moving fast towards some rapids (probably 100-150 yards away). So I'm pretty panicked at this point, but she manages to grab onto a low-hanging branch (just like in a movie or something). She's coughing and sputtering and hollering for help, trying to keep a grip on the branch.

So, I set down my avocado I'd been snacking on and walked out into the water. "hurry! I can't hold on much longer," she's yelling. I kept walking towards her, but the bottom of the river was so muddy that it was probably pretty slow. She started to get angry with me "SWIM over here! Why are you walking? Please hurry!" She yelled, with great urgency. All in all, it took me probably 8 minutes to cover the 80 yards or so to get to her. After I rescued her, she was super mad for some reason. She was all "I almost died, why were you going so slow? Who does that? What's wrong with you?"

"Well," I said. "Good things are worth wading for."

So I work in a restaurant and one of the duties shared by the servers is marrying ketchups, which is basically just pouring half full ketchups into each other so we don't end up pouring new ketchup on top of old ketchup.

A new server asked me the best way to do this so I took her back to the kitchen, grabbed two bottles of ketchup and proclaimed:

"If anybody knows of any reason why these two ketchups should not be joined in holy condimony, let them speak now, or forever hold their mustard."

She laughed, other servers were unimpressed.

My wife couldn't open a jar of grape jelly. Our two year old didn't understand why she had to bring it to me. He was only concerned with how long it was taking to make his sandwich. I opened it, but it was pretty hard because the jelly had caked around the threads and dried in place, gluing the lid to the jar.

My wife saw our son getting impatient and told him, "Hold on kiddo, mommy couldn't open the jar, so she had to bring it to daddy. Even daddy had a hard time opening it."

At this point, my internal dad joke radar started screaming a proximity warning. The collision with a dad joke was imminent. I smiled, took half a second to bask in my dad glory, and added, "Yeah, it was jammed."

Wife groaned, but son laughed (because he saw the lid was finally open). I take whatever I can get.

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

Last night my Dad was helping me with an essay for school. After I went to bed, he decided he would be nice and type/print it for me. When he handed it to me this morning, I said "Thanks, Dad. But it's supposed to be a rough draft." He promptly walked out to the garage with my essay and came back 2 minutes later holding it and a piece of sandpaper. "Here Honey, have a good day at school"...

The doctor's office was associated with the local medical college, so there were a couple of med students watching the senior doctor work on my son's toe. He loaded up a syringe with anesthetic and injected in multiple places, explaining that he was doing this to achieve digital blocking (that is, numbing the entire digit, namely the toe).

After it was done they left the nurse to bandage my son up, and he said, "Dad? What did he mean by digital blocking?"

"Well, when you weren't looking he hooked your toe up to a USB port and downloaded some MP3s into it. If you hold your foot close to your ear you can hear "Laaaaa, aaaaa aa aaaaah, close to you.""

The nurse stared at me and turned to my son. "Is he always like this?"

He silently nodded, looking at the floor...

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)_/¯

So I just realized that my "epic" theatre joke is also a dadjoke.

Now this requires some explaining before I get to the joke. I just completed my 55th theatre production - mostly community theatre; most designing and running sound, but I get on stage sometimes. A decade or so ago, I came up with a terrible pun. Told it, got groans, and promptly forgot about it.

A production or two later, someone said - "Hey, aren't you going to tell your joke?" It took a little prompting to remind me of it. Once I was reminded, I told the joke - to more groans.

I enjoyed the groans so much - and was touched that someone remembered the joke that I'd forgotten. So I did decide it was going to forevermore be: THE JOKE.

So the NEXT production, I started warning people that "The Joke" was coming. One or two remembered the previous time I'd told it, and reacted - "Oh god. Please no."

So now it has truly become a thing. Every production I'm in, I start reminding people that The Joke is coming, and the reactions from those who know the joke really help set up the anticipation.

So finally it happens. Most theatre productions I've been in run Fri-Sat-Sun performances. And thus, as I explain, I can only tell The Joke after the last Friday night's performance ends, and before the last Saturday's performance begins. It shifts if the days are different because The Joke depends on the number of remaining shows.

So, finally that time period comes, and I explain that I can only tell the joke during that time period, only the once per production - from auditions to strike - and that we're in that period of time.... which is known as.... the "cancer period". AND would you like to know WHY this period of time is known as the "cancer period"?

(at which point the tension for the punchline is usually quite palpable)

"Because we have...... TUMOR!" (as I hold up two fingers).

This is usually followed by shouts to "GET OUT!" and threats of violence against my person. hehehe

And the NEXT time, when I start warning that "The Joke" is coming, most of these groan "Oh god... no...." and helps set it up for the next poor bunch of folks who haven't yet heard it. :)

My friend (L) and I (B) ended up in a pun war. She had to wake up super early to catch a flight, and this was at about one in the morning:

L: I should definitely set my alarm to 'cow' o.O

B: Haha, do it. Nothing like waking up to cows in the 'moo'rning.

L: Oh my gosh. Absolutely not.

B: Hey, but it would be so 'udder'ly hilarious!

L: I just got stabbed to death by a pun.

B: I'm just trying to 'milk' it for all it's worth...

L: If I did that, I'm not sure I'd wake up in a happy 'moo'od.

B: Just drink some 'calf'inated coffee, and you'll be fine.

L: I'd be laughing 'stock' of the town... Cows don't have a sense of humor.

B: Bull!

L: I'll just use my cowculator do determine how much sleep I'm actually going to get tonight...

B: You could wake up a little later, but you'd have to 'hoof' it to the airport.

L: Hope the weather is good, so my plane isn't 'ground'ed 'beef'.

B: That's stretching it... You should make more of an 'heifer't to come up with good puns.

L: I know when I'm getting creamed.

B: It's hard to 'steer' you in the right direction, because you keep changing topics.

L: That's udderly ridiculous. I'm just trying to mooove on.

B: And I just keep churning 'em out...

L: No, you're just spinning your 'veal's.

B: That's one of the best ones I've herd all night!

L: I thought I might've butchered it...

B: PETA might have a beef with you because of it, though...

L: Well done, well done...

B: I don't think they care leather or not you personally slaughtered it, too.

L: See now, I wish you'd stop 'grilling' me about the bad puns... You should 'patty' yourself on the back. I 'dairy' you to come up with more.

B: Well, you can certainly steak a claim for being able to hold your own...

L: I'm a natural 'barn' comedian. However, I really should quit 'yak'king and go to bed. :p

B: Okay, that's not cows... You lose. You 'cud' have done a lot better.

L: The grass is greener on the other side, okay? Also, cows live in barns, and yaks are related to cows.

B: It was still quite a stretch... Don't have a cow about it.

L: Ha anymoo. Goodnight! Also, don't die of mad cow disease.

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

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

Today in my class, somebody broke a pencil in 1/2 and threw it across my classroom. It hit me in the back. I told them we wouldn't leave the room until somebody fessed up and they sat in silence for a solid 10 minutes until I got out paper and made them write eye-witness statements (classic teacher move). As I was passing out the paper, one of the kids blurted out, "guys look what this has LEAD to." He couldn't hold it in any longer than he already had.

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:

Me: Happy Birthday Grandpa! How old are you today?

Grandpa: I am 84 Years old today.

Me: Wow..Your getting up there grandpa. I hope to live to be 84 some day.

Grandpa: Im sure you will be. We come from a line of long livers..... some of us even have livers this long. (Holds hands up two feet apart from one another).

He'll say this while looking straight at me, with a stern look on his face. Frightened, I ask "What?" whilst trying to remember wear I did to piss him off so bad.

He holds his hand at ass-level, grins: "A flame about this high."

So, there's this yellow toad wandering around in the forest kinda pissed off because he doesn't want to be yellow. Life would be easier if he were brown like the other toads.... He'd sure be less visible to predators for one thing. Anyway.... This yellow toad bumps into a fairy godmother. "Fairy godmother, please make me brown like the other toads" he begs her. "I'm hacked off being so visible to predators. The stress is like, killing me, you know?" "Okay" says the fairy godmother, who whips out her magic wand and goes: "Abracapokus! You're brown!" The toad looks down and sees that he is brown! Except..... for his weenie, which was still yellow. "Hang about lady," he says to the fairy godmother, "My pecker's still yellow!" "Yeah, well I don't do weenies," she says, "You'll have to go see the Wizard of Oz for that." So the toad thanks her and hops off on his way. There is also a purple bear wandering about the very same woods. As luck would have it, he encounters the very same fairy godmother (yes, okay, it's a coincidence, but it's true). "Fairy Godmother! You're just the person I need!" says the purple bear, "I can't pull any bearesses cos they don't want to be seen with a purple bear on account of the hunters. They can spot me from a mile off." Being a fairly nice fairy godmother, she takes out her magic wand. "Oh for goodness sake, what is the matter with you lot round here" she says and with that, she yells: "Pokuscadabra! You're brown!" The bear looks down and sees that he is, in fact, brown. Except for his goolies, which remain purple.. "Hold up sweetheart!" he says to the fairy Godmother, "My goolies are still purple!" "Yeah, well I don't do those goolie things," she replies, "You'll have to go see the Wizard of Oz for that." "Well that's just dandy, innit?" the bear replies, "How the hell do I find the Wizard of Oz?" "Easy," says the fairy godmother as she flew off saying......... "Just follow the yellow-prick toad !!"

So in France in the 1500s there was an old tall church, and recently, the man who rings the bells grew sick and died. So the priest decided to hold interview for the job of the bell ringer. Nobody showed up but one man, he was a tall, strong looking man, but he had no arms. The priest, not wanting to turn anyone away, gave the man an interview, he seemed qualified but the priest didn't know how he would ring the bell, so he said no "Oh please father let me do it I'll prove myself, oh it'll be the best you've ever seen" the priest decided to give him a chance, they went up the winding stairs for a while till they reached the top. The man looked at the massive bell, but with excitement not fear, he was to ring the bell 5 times. He stepped back and ran full speed hitting his face to the bell, BANG. He stepped back, a bit shook up, but he shook it off and ran at the bell again, once again with his face, BANG. He did that two more times, then after the forth time He stepped back for the grand finale. He ran full speed and smashed the bell with such force it could be heard towns over, but with the force he was knocked back over the threshold and put if the tower to his death the priest ran full speed down the stairs to find a crowd around the mangled body of the of the armless man, a man walked over the priest and said "father who was this man who fell from the tower" to which the priest replied "I never caught his name but his face rings a bell".