It Follows Puns

I am now on a no-crab diet

F'raternity

So things can get resolved

'She is the dancing queen Young and lean Only seventeen.'

Might as well be called Aaa

Stephen stalking

The fat one won't fit into the woodchipper. What do you want me to do?

There once was this fella was born with a silver screw in his belly button. His parents, and later himself, searched far and wide trying to find someone that knew how this happened and how to remove it. As he grew older he cared less and less about the "how" and more about the removal. One day in his never-ending search he encountered a wizened woman who said that she knew of a place where you could go and a mysterious force would be able to remove the screw. But, before she provided the location she asked him if this was REALLY something he wanted done and if he knew all the consequences of his desire. The man hastily said that he was 10000% sure and more than well informed of the consequences. So, she gave him the location of the cave and the instructions on how to gain the help of the mysterious force. He was to go to the cave and sleep nude in the cave over night and by the morning his request would be fulfilled. He made his way to the spot with all due haste and followed the instructions to the letter. He did this and fell into a sound sleep. During the night a heavy fog rolled into the cave and a shining silver screwdriver floated into the cave with it. It floated down to the man and gently removed the screw. When the man woke up in the morning and saw the screw on the ground beside him he quickly reached down and felt his belly button. The screw was gone! He sprung up with great joy but the minute he landed after his leap of joy his butt fell off. He froze in horror and started to scream "Why did my butt fall off?" over and over.

The moral of the story is "Don't mess with things you don't understand or you will lose your butt."

Me neither, I couldn't follow it.

It was an odd beehavior.

“I’m being stalked!”

Took a really big dab (weed) and was coughing my brains out, which caused the following conversation between me and my wife:

Wife: "Are you going to make it?"

Me: "Nope.. Cough Hack ..You're gonna... cough ..be a... Hack hack ..widow!"

Wife: "Nooo, you can't die!"

Me: Hack "And I don't even.. cough ..have.. hack ...life insurance!" cough hack cough

Wife: "Wife Insurance?? What is that - If I break can you swap me out for a new one?? Do you mean a pre-nup??"

My body couldn't figure out what the fuck to do. Cough, Laugh, it even got confused and farted. Fucking hilarious.

Friend: watching TV show called Sunday "I wonder when Sunday ends."

Me: "11:59 I think."

He says "what do you call it when an environmentalist sets a forest on fire?"

She says "I don't know."

He says "Treeson." The girl laughs

He follows saying "Yknow, if you'd like more of these jokes, I got them from a cool source if you're interested."

The girl says "Yes, I'm interested."

The boy then replies "Good to know SOMEONE is interested in me."

If you want it, you should have put a ring on it.

It was ruled by a fair king who joyfully ruled his land. Unfortunately, the kingdom was also home to a wicked thief who loved nothing more than causing mayhem for all the inhabitants of the land.

However, the thief was not your ordinary thief. He only stole bells. Any kind of bell, whether a tiny bell from a kitten’s collar, all the way up to the bell from the king’s royal bell tower.

When the king awoke one morning, the bell tower’s bell was missing. The king, being brave and noble, decided to follow the thief back to his lair. He chose four of his most loyal soldiers, mounted his horse, and rode off into the snowy woods, following the footprints left behind on the ground.

Soon, he and his soldiers arrived to a clearing in the woods. In front of them was a large, bell-shaped building. They found the thief’s lair!Pointing to the recent tracks left in the snow by the thief, the king announced to the soldiers,

“Look! The Fresh Prints to Bell Lair!”

Well it needs a proper setup, followed by a PUNchline.

It's the only way I can cope…

I don't have any original material at the moment, but the obligations are still there. So I present the following:

How do you get a baby satellite to sleep? You rocket!

Why was Peter Pan always flying? Because he Neverlands.

It takes guts to be an organ donor.

Eggs don't tell jokes because they always crack up.

What's a tree's favorite drink? Root beer!

What do you call a cow with 2 legs? Lean beef

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef

What do you call a dog with no legs? It doesn't matter, he still won't come

Where do you find a dog with no legs? Right where you left him.

Pointing his firearm at two cashiers, he shouts “hand over the contents of the cash register! I need it to set myself up in a trade or profession...you know, a habitual occupation followed for a livelihood and involving commercial transactions!”

Cashier 1: “What do we do?”

Cashier 2: “Do what he says, I think he means business!”

I feel with my hands.

That was my dad’s go to, directly followed by: dad: can I make you a sandwich Me: sure Dad: (does magic hands) poof you’re a sandwich

It’s almost 3 years since he died. I miss his joke every damn day.

So this surgeon always posts pictures of the masks he wears during his surgery on Instagram. He does this every single time he has a surgery, and his nurses can never understand why. Eventually, he garners a massive following on Instagram. So, he goes into his supervisor's room, and he says, "Hello, it's a pleasure to see you". The supervisor says, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" The surgeon says, "Well, my Instagram business is really taking off. I think it would be better for me to quit being a surgeon and focus on Instagram full time". The supervisor thinks he's a little crazy but decides to let him do what he wants. The former surgeon now goes and buys as many masks as he can to sustain his Instagram account. Eventually, he becomes so wealthy that he is able to buy all these lavish things and not have to worry about economic failure. However, one day, he decides to begin posting pictures of medical needles on his Instagram account instead of masks at about the same time that he gets a horrible sickness that is almost always fatal. Because he posts pictures of masks now, his account begins failing, and even though he tries to save it, he's unable. He no longer has any money to treat the illness and is on his deathbed. His entire family is surrounding him, and his father leans in to hug him. As this happens, the ex-surgeon says in a weak voice, "Dad, where did I go wrong?" The dad, with tears in his eyes, seeing what his son has been reduced to and sadly knowing his dear son's death is imminent says, "You post syringe, you lose subscriber"

A woman comes home from the hypnotist and tells her husband, "Remember those headaches I've been having all these years? Well, they're gone."

"No more headaches?" the husband asks, "What happened?"

His wife replies, "Dawn referred me to a hypnotist. He told me to stand in front of a mirror, stare at myself and repeat 'I do not have a headache; I do not have a headache; I do not have a headache.' It worked... The headaches are all gone."

The husband replies, "Well, that is wonderful."

His wife then says, "You know, you haven't been exactly a ball of fire in the bedroom these last few years. Why don't you go see the hypnotist and see if he can do anything for that?" The husband agrees to try it.

Following his appointment, the husband comes home, rips off his clothes, picks up his wife and carries her into the bedroom. He puts her on the bed and says, "Don't move, I'll be right back."

He goes into the bathroom and comes back a few minutes later and jumps into bed and makes passionate love to his wife like never before. His wife says, "That was wonderful..."

The husband says, "Don't move... I will be right back." He goes back into the bathroom, comes back and round two was even better than the first time.

The wife sits up and her head is spinning. Her husband again says, "Don't move, I'll be right back." With that, he goes back in the bathroom.

This time, his wife quietly follows him and there, in the bathroom, she sees him standing at the mirror and saying, "She's not my wife. She's not

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

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

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

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

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

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

Me: I poured some concrete once.

Son: Was that really hard?

Me: It is now.

(This took place at lunch earlier today. Was followed by groans all around.)

My dad walks up to me and says, "It's supposed to rain spiders tonight."

Mildly terrified by this imagery, I furrow my eyebrows and respond, "huh?"

He explains, "We're supposed to get torrential rains tonight. Tarantula downpours. Get it?"

Hah.

The followed response, "Guys calm down, it's just a drill."

It would be "bad at following directions"

Because it will always follow its foot-steppe

To which I responded “It certainly will when you take it out.” I accepted the long awkward silence that followed as thunderous applause.

He speaks with the officer, who assigns him his post.

"Go stand at the periscope entry-way, and make sure no unauthorized personnel touch the periscope."

The recruit follows orders, and stands by the periscope. After 15 minutes, the officer stops by.

"Son I'm changing your post to the mess hall. Go in there and start washing some dishes."

The recruit obeys, and heads to the mess hall. He's cleaned about 3 dishes when the officer walks up again.

"Listen here recruit, your new post is in the supply room. I need you to make sure everything is strapped down tight, in case of rough waters."

The recruit again follows orders, and heads off to the supply room. There, he sees a crewman, moving some boxes.

"Hey there," says the recruit. "is it normal to keep getting reassigned to new posts all day? I haven't kept one position for more than 15 minutes!"

The crewman says "Oh yeah- this sub is full of reposts."

She was having a lot of problems selling it because the car had 250,000 miles. One day, she told her problem to a friend she worked with at a salon. Her friend told her, "There is a possibility to make the car easier to sell, but it's not legal."

"That doesn't matter," replied Judi, "as long as I can sell the car."

"Okay," said Judi's friend. "Here is the address of a friend of mine. He owns a car repair shop. Tell him I sent you and he will turn the counter in your car back to 50,000 miles. Then it should not be a problem to sell your car anymore."

The following weekend, Judi made the trip to the mechanic. Two weeks later the friend asked Judi, "Did you sell your car?"

"No," replied Judi, "why should I? It only has 50,000 miles on it!"

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

'Punnit' is hosted by myself and played over three rounds. The first two rounds consist of one category (say, Musical Genres & Ailments), with each contestant going in turn and giving their best 5 entries. Such as, HIVy Metal, Honky Tonksillitis, Indiegestion etc.

These two categories are known about a week or so prior so everyone can bring their best (or worst, depending on how you look at it) but the third round is entirely on the spot, with the entrants shouting out whatever they can think of for a category. One of the recent being American Presidents & American States, with OklaBama winning that one.

It's all very much in the early stages but I would appreciate both feedback on the format and people getting in touch if they wanna duke it out.

Here are the episodes: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKJOzYgG9MW7CQHAZQahiqw/videos

Follow us too @thepunpodcast

I told her she will get it if she gets good grades, does her chores or follows the house rules.

Otherwise she will get a cheaper phone because it's either my way or the Huawei.

There are rumors of yet another Bill and Ted Sequel following the one in production. Reportedly, it will feature an older, toothless Keanu Reeves who is fighting with his insurance company.

Yeah, the working title: Billin' Ted for Bogus Dentures.

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

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

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

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

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

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