Listen, Little Man! Puns

Once upon a time, this guy named Fred decided that he was rough and tough enough to seek his fortune in the Wild West.

So, Fred found his way to a frontier town and became the bartender at the wildest saloon in the territory. He soon proved how rough and tough he was, and the owner of the bar was pleased with how he broke up fights and didn't skim too much off the receipts. He told Fred that he (Fred) was doing a fine job, but he should remember one thing:

"If you ever hear even a rumor that Mad Martin is coming to town, just save what you can, put a bottle of Red Eye on the counter, and head out of town as fast as you can."

Fred was pretty perplexed at this, and sought explanation. He was told that Mad Martin was an old mountain man who lived up in the hills and only came to town once or twice a year. However, Martin was the most dangerous guy they'd ever heard of and few had ever encountered him and lived to tell the tale.

Fred listened carefully and then promptly forgot all about it. Until, one day a few months later, a cowboy came riding through town at full speed, yelling, "Martin's coming! Head for the hills!" The result was incredible. Everybody in town immediately jumped on their horses and took off for the hills. Except Fred. He wanted to see this guy because he didn't believe he could be all that tough. So, Fred just put the bottle of Red Eye on the bar, hid behind the counter, and waited.

He didn't wait long. Soon there was a noise in the street. As Fred looked out a hole in the wall, he saw this huge, mean-looking guy ride down the center of the street on the biggest bull buffalo that Fred had ever seen. The guy stopped the buffalo in front of the bar, jumped off the beast, punched it in the head (dropping the critter to its knees) and bellowed, "Wait here til I get back!"

The fellow turned and walked up the steps. Fred saw that the guy had a pair of huge mountain lions on leashes. He tied them both to a post and kicked them soundly, hollering, "You pussycats stay here til I'm done!" The cats fearfully sat down.

Into the bar stormed the fellow, ripping the doors off the wall as he passed. With two strides he approached the bar, picked up the bottle of Red Eye, bit off the neck, and downed it all in one gulp. Poor Fred, thoroughly frightened by now, let out a little whimper. The guy klooked down over the bar and roared, "What the hell do you think you're looking at!?"

Fred managed to say, "N..n..n..nothing, mister. Do you want another

Just then a blind man appeared on a nearby path. The man asked the farmer what he was doing, and the farmer told him about his problem. The farmer told the man how he had tried everything, from singing to the trees, to shaking them, to blowing on them. The blind man thought for a minute and then instructed the farmer to try listening to the trees, because their song was not being heard. The farmer was skeptical, but figured he may as well try. He put his ear up to one of the small apples, and could barely hear the faintest song playing. He turned to ask the blind man how to hear it better but the man had disappeared.

Later that day the man told his wife, Andrea, all about what had happened. The wife was skeptical as well, but she told her husband to talk to their friend Jim the beet farmer, because he always had a healthy crop. The farmer obliged his wife and went and told Jim about his experience. Jim smiled, and he motioned for the farmer to come with him. The two walked to the middle of a field full of red beets. In the very center they found two golden beets. Jim told his friend to take the golden beets, and bury them into the soil near his orchard.

Night was approaching, but the farmer agreed to do what he was told. He thanked his friend and took the two beets to the center of his orchard, while his wife Andrea looked on. As he pushed them into the ground he started to hear the song of the trees. The song was a little louder, but still very quiet.

The farmer dug up the beets and began moving them to other spots. He soon noticed that as he buried them closer to his wife, the louder the song became and the apples actually started growing. The farmer, excited by his discover, ran over to his wife and stuck the beets into the soil at her feet. The apple orchard sung loudly and came to life with new growth. The farmer had the best crop he had ever had that year.

Moral of the story: If you want to listen to apple music, try plugging in your beets by ‘Dre.

Some stories have hooks.

This story has a bloody good one.

It's about love—

Or at least marriage.

My marriage.

At heart, it's your typical fish out of water story, but like I said there's a hook.

The hook's in the beginning.

Although it's really the tail end that's most moving—at least now, when our love's drying up.

Understand:

I'm a fisherman, and I caught my wife with another man.

Well, I caught the man first.

I used Craigslist.

But I suppose the details don't really matter. It's enough to know that by the time he was naked in the shed it was too late for him to change his mind.

He broke down easily. He wasn't particularly thick skinned.

That's where the hook came in—

pushed through a fold of flesh on his back.

He wasn't much in the size department, but I didn't intend for him to get hung up on it. Unfortunately, he kept trying to escape, so what choice did I have? Then he seemed quite insecure, so I pierced him with another steel hook just in case.

Like I said:

Bloody good hook.

After he stopped struggling, I took him down and dragged him to my boat. Then we went fishing.

Hold on, though.

I may need to backtrack a little, because you may be wondering how I even knew she was out there.

The answer is: I'd already seen her swimming a few times.

It was love at first sight.

Like many couples nowadays we met on the net.

So back to when I was fishing:

I was in my boat with the Craigslist man with the steel hooks in his back. I had tied a thick rope to one of the hooks, placed the man onto a net, and pushed them both overboard. He splashed and choked, attracting a lot of attention.

I waited for her call.

It came.

She sounded so near to me.

When she swam just close enough to the Craigslist man in the water, I pulled in the net—and there she was: shining, mine to the gills and writhing so enticingly!

I took her ashore.

I placed her in a water tank and told her she would be my wife.

I screwed her—

shut.

For days I watched her bang—

on the glass.

Until one day it happened: the glass cracked, the tank broke open, and with the water she spilled onto the floor.

Now here I am, watching my marriage fall apart.

Her gills are barely stirring.

Her face: dry and still.

It's only her scaly tail that's still gently moving.

I caught my wife with another man. I met her on the net. I thought our love would last forever, but now, listening to her shriek, I realize I was catfished! I wanted to marry a siren—but this thing is nothing

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken