A list of puns related to "Love handles"
Now I have no control over my relationship.
It's their favorite roll playing game.
Communication is the key
You need to let that mango.
... and you still hate him now. But now he's an official resident of Florida and I may see him differently now. I've seen a lot of hate thrown his way, but this guy is a consistent winner and an overachiever. That's what the people who support him love about him. Yes, there have been some scandals. Yes, there have been some lies and maybe a few times he's twisted the truth to make himself look better. He's out there everyday proving those haters wrong time after time. Call it jealously, call it envy. Some people just can't handle how successful he is and how much money he has. They could even be jealous that he's got a hot, foreign model as his wife. You may not have wanted him in this role, but he's there now and there is nothing you or I can do about it. I know it'll possibly get worse over the next several days, but like him or not, Tom Brady is turning things around in Tampa Bay.
Researchers have discovered that when mixed with spices found in popular Hispanic dishes, ground peanuts make a great meat substitute!
It's also been found that an offshoot of the banana family, when fried, makes an awesome faux-fish sandwich!
Craving a frozen treat, but can't handle dairy? Some have found that chilled grapes and prunes can hit that sweet spot in a healthy way!
Keep experimenting with cruelty-free ideas!
TL/DR:
If you like peanut-chiladas, and getting cod from plantains, if you're not into yogurt 'cause you have lactose pains, you could make a lovely delight with some prunes and some grapes. Here's the grub that you've looked for, get that meat off your plate!
RETIRED HUSBAND
After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to WalMart. Unfortunately, like most men; I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter, from the local WalMart:
Dear Mrs. Harris:
Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion, in our store.
We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to, ban both of you from the store.
Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Harris, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:
June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.
July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.
July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money. We don't have a Code 3.
August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.
August 14: Moved a, 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.
August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.
August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.
September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while, loudly humming the, 'Mission Impossible' theme.
October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his, 'Madonna Look' using different sizes of funnels.
October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'
October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed;
'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'
... After we cleaned the mess, because he thought it was party time not dinner time, my wife was sitting, defeated, on the couch lamenting having a rowdy toddler. She was listing all the things that could be different if he was calmer (the kid is always full-throttle and smart as fuck, I love it but it's a lot to handle) including not stinking like soup. I look into her eyes, hold her hands in mine, lift her chin up and said:
"Baby, I love you. You smell super."
In unrelated news, sleeping on the couch is better than advertised.
There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He
... keep reading on reddit ➡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":
We use these red sliding sheets to help transfer patients from the operating table to their trolley (they're widely used in hospitals and care environments for various patient manual handling tasks). For those who are unfamiliar, it's basically a double layered, frictionless sheet you position under the patient in order (theoretically) to transfer them with minimal force and effort.
One particular colleague hates them, and today ranted:
"I would love to punch the guy who invented these and has probably made millions of pounds and retired"
To which someone immediately responded:
"I bet he's a right slippery character though".
I was handling some raw chicken and my father comes in and says, "I hope you plan on washing your hands before anything else." I sarcastically responded, "No, I love salmonella."
To which he exclaimed, "Sam and Ella? How've they been?"
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