No Breathing Puns

In a quote she said "The super color fragile lipstick gives me halitosis".

Papa Roach: “Suffocation. No breathing.”

There was once a boy. He was the son of the richest man in the universe. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, he dwarfed them all. He was a multi-trillionaire. Now, it was this boy's birthday. His father asked him,

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. A store full of lego, all the video games in the world, anything. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one pink ping pong ball."

His father was rather confused by this request. Out of all the things he could've chosen, his son chose a ping pong ball. Nonetheless, he agreed and gave him a pink ping pong ball. His son was overjoyed and spoke to him.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong ball?"

"Okay son, go ahead."

The boy then went up to his room and played with his pink ping pong ball. When his father went in the next morning to check on him, the boy was sleeping in his bed and the pink ping pong ball was nowhere to be found.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one box full of pink ping pong balls."

His father was again, confused by this. Still, he bought a cardboard box and filled it with ping pong balls. He gave it to his son, who said.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong balls?"

The father nodded, and the son went up to his room to play. The next morning when his father went to check, the boy was sleeping peacefully and there were no pink ping pong balls in sight. Just the empty cardboard box in the middle of the room.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one truck full of ping pong balls."

Now, by this point, the father was extremely confused. Why did the boy want so many pink ping pong balls and where were they going? He asked.

"My son. You are the most precious thing in the world to me and I can certainly get you this, but may I ask, why do you want

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

The Papa Roach replied "Suffocation. No breathing."

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

Surrounded by his son, his twin daughters and a haggard-looking nurse who looked about ready to end it all if only she could find the bloody switch, he was finally breathing his last.

His son, who loved him dearly and wasn't at all sure if he had been cut out of the will or not, burst into tears at the plight of a man who would look more at home in a red woolly outfit than he ever could in drab, white linen.

"I do not wish to die today, Anthony", he intoned fixing his gaze slightly above his son's left shoulder, "there is something you must do to save me."

"Tell me what to do dad, I can't bear to look at you this way", cried Anthony.

"There is a land, not far from here, where no one ever dies. It is not for dying you see. That is where I must go."

"Where is this place father? Tell me, and I shall take you to it."

"Take me there now", he said faintly as if in great pain, "Take me to, The Living Room."

What tree do you wipe your hands on? A palm tree!

I heard a scary math joke, but I’m 2^^2 to tell it!

Have you heard of that new movie, “Constipation”? Well it doesn’t matter, it never came out.

I hurt myself when I went to a theme park in florida. When I went to the doctor, he started wrapping up my left leg, but then I pointed at my right and said “No, doc, it’s dis knee.”

Last night I got mugged by 6 dwarves. Not Happy.

When Queen Elizabeth farts, everyone in the room must pretend like nothing happened. Noble Gasses don’t cause reactions, after all.

What’s the difference between a seal and a sea lion? One electron.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises? It becomes Daytrogen!

I called the animal shelter today and said "I've found six kittens in a suitcase in the woods." They said "Are they moving?" I replied "I don't know, but that would explain the suitcase."

Why can’t you trust Atoms? Because they make up everything!

Why do nerds wear glasses? It helps with division.

Why should you tiptoe past the medicine cabinet? You don’t wanna wake the sleeping pills.

What twitches and is found at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck!

What do you call a fat psychic? A four chin teller!

What do you call a 3 foot tall psychic on the run from the law? A small medium at large!

Help, I can’t stop reading books with female protagonists! I’m a heroine addict!

How did Sparticus react when he ate his wife for dinner? He was gladiator!

When does a joke become a dad joke? When the punchline becomes apparent!

19 and 20 got into a fight… 21.

My friend told me, “People who sell meat are disgusting!” So I said, “Yeah, well people who sell fruits and vegetables are grocer!”

How can turtles take photos of themselves? Shell-fie sticks!

What do you call a secret agent molecule? Bond… ionic bond. “Taken, not shared.” What did the dinosaur say to the other dinosaur? (Cut this part, but make a screeching noise)

How much does Santa’s sleigh cost? $0, it’s on the house.

If America switched from pounds to kilograms overnight there would be mass confusion.

I had a splinter once; it eventually got out of hand.

I’m going to go stand outside. If anyone asks, I’m outstanding.

Most people are shocked to find out how terrible an electrician I am!

What do mermaids wash their fins with? Tide What’s the coolest place to use the bathroom? The Lil Jon

Did you know that on average, people want three covers on their bed at all times? But that’s just a blanket statem

Anyone who makes a pun about iron should pay a periodic Fe, I would stop now but that'd be Nobel of me, HeHeHe. Be sure to take a deep breath before you say "NO". At this point you might thinking we should get Iridium of this guy in rl too. I'll eventually run out of chemical puns, right? Na, which might be your mood coincidentally. This guy must be a fake as Silicone, he got this from somewhere to which I reply, Si, senor! I Cu calling for the coppers, but any "Bro" of mine wouldn't. Don't worry, the best ones Argon by now. Au reading this! This winding list is surely golden by now, right?

As we close this out, allow me to echo your thoughts one last time, Fr y'all.

"F"In"Al"Y"

A little boy named Tom was approaching his 3rd birthday, and absolutely adored the show "Tractor Tom", partially because of his name being spoken, and partially because he loved tractors.

As the day drew nearer, his parents decided to buy him a toy tractor as a gift. The rest of his toys were gone with the wind at this point, as Tom spent all his waking hours playing with this one tractor toy.

Fast forward a few years, and Tom's now approaching his 10th birthday, with his love for tractors intact and intensified. His parents discuss what to get for him, and decide that a ride-on tractor to replace his bike is the best gift they can give him.

Tom absolutely loves the gift, and spends all of his time out of school riding around the neighbourhood while his bike collects dust in the garage.

We come forward a few more years, as Tom approaches his 18th birthday, with an only intensified adoration of tractors. His father pulls him aside on the morning of his birthday, saying "Now son, I know that we've promised you a car, but we know what you really want."

He leads him outside, to a brand new tractor with a bow on it, saying that this is his welcome to adulthood.

Tom is beyond excited, and spends the next few months going everywhere in his tractor - grocery trips, bars, classes, friends' houses.....

Again, a few years later, Tom is driving down a back country road, in the middle of nowhere, with his tractor, in the middle of a storm. The tractor breaks down, and with no air conditioning or any form of modern comforts, Tom is in a miserable mood until someone finally comes past for him to flag down for help. After this, Tom realises that although tractors are fun, maybe they're not the best transport method out there.

Tom ages through a few more years, and finds himself driving down another road in the middle of nowhere in his car, and sees a house on fire just off the road. Being a good samaritan, he pulls over and heads up the driveway to a woman running out of the house screaming "Please, help, help! My baby is trapped in there! Go and call 911, please!"

Tom turns around, then, before leaving, has a brainwave.

He turns back and walks towards the flames, saying "Don't worry, ma'am, I've got this."

He takes a deep breath in, and the fire disappears into nothingness. As you'd expect, the woman is in awe, and asks, "Oh my God, how did you do that?!"

Tom simply responds, "Well you see ma'am, I'm an extractor fan."

My father is fond of jokes and pranks (even though I only pretend to laugh .-.) but there's this story that I always would genuinely laugh at whenever it is brought up. So here it goes...

We've always gone to Church every Sunday when we were kids and on one of those Sundays, my father decided to make my mother laugh by shaving only HALF of his beard. So while the other side has hair, the other is shaved. He casually walked up to my mother and asked if he looked good in his "new fashion style." My mother laughed so hard she couldn't breathe.

When that was over, we got ourselves ready and went to Church. While praying, there was a bunch of people looking at my father. He noticed that as soon as he looked at those people, they'd cover their face, bow their heads and walk away. He felt weird. So he got into this 'thinking position' where he had his hands to play with his beard. And that's when he realized...HE FORGOT TO SHAVE THE OTHER HALF AT HOME AND NO ONE NOTICED UNTIL WE GOT THERE. HAHAHHAHAHA He was so embarassed, he covered his whole face until mass was over.

That's all folks. Thank you for coming to my dad talks .

My girlfriend was really sick and the doctors said she urgently needed a blood transfusion. They asked me what her blood type was, but I had no idea. I frantically tracked my brain, trying to remember if she'd told me. She must have sensed my panic, because she looked up at me and with her final breath said, "Be positive. Be positive" She's right, though I will miss her.

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

While having a bite to eat, they talk about their moonshine operation.

Suddenly, a woman at a nearby table, who is eating a sandwich, begins to cough. After a minute or so, it becomes apparent that she is in real distress. One of the hillbillies looks at her and says, 'Kin ya swallar?'

The woman shakes her head no. Then he asks, 'Kin ya breathe?'

The woman begins to turn blue, and shakes her head no.

The hillbilly walks over to the woman, lifts up her dress, yanks down her drawers, and quickly gives her right butt cheek a lick with his tongue.

The woman is so shocked that she has a violent spasm, and the obstruction flies out of her mouth. As she begins to breathe again, the Hillbilly walks slowly back to his table. His partner says, 'Ya know, I'd heerd of that there 'Hind Lick Maneuver' but I never seed nobody done it.'

It was really hard on our family when my Grandfather passed away. He was waiting for a blood transfusion but the machine to test blood-type was broken. He always kept a brave face and inspired us all, and today was no different. I will always remember his last words. With his last breath the pulled me close, looked me in the eye and told me to be positive. Please, be positive.

"Did I ever tell you about the asshole?"

"What?"

"Well, the asshole was at a meeting with all of the other body parts, and they were deciding who should be in charge of the whole body, right? So first, the brain says, 'C'mon, obviously I should be the boss. I do all of the decisions, thinking--why is this even a question?'

'Well, good luck doing all of the thinking if you can't see where you're going,' say the eyes. 'We should be in charge.'

'What good is it going to do seeing, if you can't get anywhere?' asked the legs.

'Well, without us, you'd have no oxygen,' said the lungs.

'Are you serious?' said the stomach. 'How are you supposed to process energy and do any of this stuff, without me??'

'Well, what about me?' piped up the asshole. 'I'm important too..'

'You?!?' laughed the other parts. 'Shut up, asshole!'

So the asshole went on strike.

A week and a half later, the brain couldn't think straight. The eyes couldn't focus, the legs were asleep from sitting on the pot, and the stomach was so jammed up full of crap that the lungs could barely breathe.

Finally, they all went to the asshole and said, 'Look, we're sorry, we're sorry!! Just come back to work, you can be in charge!'

...and that's why all bosses are assholes."

Miss ya, Pops.

Wife: You've been drinking beer. I smell it on your breath.

Husband: No, I've been eating frog legs. You're smelling the hops.

In the not too distant future, web censorship is pervasive; speech and freedom are strangers to one another; while pirates sail the seas with impunity, digital pirates are incarcerated by the busload.

Anyone who speaks out against this ban on open-dialogue or the free-sharing-of-ideas is ground down and hidden away, and the resistance is loosing its will.

A small group of contributors to reddit, huddled together in a bunker beneath barely-waving flags of Snoo, worked tirelessly to repost new ideas from around the internet, to release ideas from their chains, and make speech free ... again!

But it was not to be - a gang of the governments anti-piracy enforcers descended on this, the last bastion of humankind's will to share-freely. Arriving in an armored bus, ten shock-troopers breached the bunker and it looked like the day was lost.

Fortunately for us all, one brave redditor led the collective out a back entrance and they circled to the driveway. This leader told the other redditors to wait in the bushes while he overpowered the one soldier left guarding the transport. There was a flash of movement, a crack from a fallen branch as it struck the guard, and then, stolen keys in hand, the hero revved the engine and told the redditors to pile in.

He had to will himself ignore the gas gauge as he floored the accelerator on the 25,000 pound ticket to freedom - there was only survival or defeat, and nothing in between. Sirens came alive behind him as he rushed for the border to the promised land, to the Free-North.

As the engine begins to cough, the titanic weight of the transport cleaves the barricades asunder and the pursuing vehichles have to hard-brake to avoid skidding beyond their corrupt jurisdiction. Both exhausted and elated, the redditors follow their hero to the freedom promised by their new surroundings ... but their peril is not yet passed.

Though most of the pirate-hunters glower from the south-side of the border, one special agent has crossed over and is speaking with the border guards. The tension is thick. A long-faced guard turns to the newcomers, clearly troubled by what he must do.

"Folks," he says, a pained look on his kindly face, "I'm sorry, to do this, don't cha' know, but I got no choice, eh!"

Confused, the redditors look to one another, and tremble as they notice the agent's smug expression, greedy eyes fixed on the leader of the exodus.

"Look here, now, you are all welcome here, of course, and since speech is free here, we are

There was a spread of meats and salads for dinner, and above the table was a light that was flickering - giving off a strobe effect.

To which the person behind me casually remarks under his breath; “Hmm, don’t mind me a bit of seizure salad”.

I thought it was great. No one else seemed to appreciate it.

For a little bit of background information, my dad suffers from multiple system atrophy and got a high fever, which turned out to be from a bad urinal tract infection. He has been at the hospital for almost 2 weeks now, and it is really hard on our family, but he is doing his best to get better and throws this small dad joke to lighten me and my brothers day.

A Speech Therapist comes every day to help him focus on his muscles in his face to help him swallow and speak clearer with simple gestures of noises and deep breathing. As she was done with his exercises, she said to him "Can you say goodbye, have a nice day! in a long sentence?" (As in one breath with no pauses). My dad then takes a look at me and my brother and says in his slurred voice "goodbye... have a nice day... in a long sentence".

The Speech Therapist just smiled and shook her head while we facepalmed...

Thumbs up Dad, I know you will come home soon!

When they arrived, a cab driver greeted them at the airport. "What should we do on our first day here," the father asked his son, excitedly. The driver interjected, "Well, if you're not natives, I'd suggest the roller coaster that teaches your or language." Confused, the father and son look at one another then back at their guide. "Trust me," he told them, "It's guaranteed or your money back." Having no plans and now both understandably intrigued, the pair agreed. When they arrived at the roller coaster, they were amazed to behold the giant steel skeleton of the most intricate ride they'd ever seen. It had loops, helixes, corkscrews and drops more terrifying than anything they'd ridden back home. The son quickly rescinded his consent and turned you guys father. "There's no way I'm getting on that thing. You go first," he said, "Then you can tell me if it's worth it." Not wanting to seem a coward, the father accepted. Stepping into the first car, he seated himself. As the attendant approached to check his shoulder restraint, her couldn't help but ask, "So how exactly am I supposed to learn an entire language from a roller coaster?" The attendant smiled and replied simply, "You'll see." Anticipation turned to unease as the cars lurched upward towards the first drop. The seconds felt like hours as the car climbed higher and higher, clicking steadily while the chain pulled it skyward. As the nose of the car tipped downward and he could see the enormous drop below, his inner fear turned verbal. Without thinking he screamed, "minä kuolen!" As he rounded the first turn and into an inverted twist, he debut another exclamation well inside and burst forth. "naida!" He screamed as the ride continued. A few minutes and many foreign-tongued exclamations later, he found himself back at the station trying to catch his breath with the smiling attendant removing his restraints. His ran up to his son and declared, "It really works! I'm not sure how, but it really works!" "How was it?" the son asked unimpressed. "It was a wild ride from start to Finnish." "The son smiled weakly. "Yeah , the cabbie stole our luggage."

A 22 year-old man was obsessed with tractors, so much so that he had no social life outside of his fascination with farm machinery. His mother eventually intervened, forcing him to throw away all of his tractor merchandise and ordered him to find himself a girlfriend.

The man went to a bar that night in search of a partner and encountered a beautiful blonde. After exchanging pleasantries, the two moved outside in order to have a proper conversation away from the music. As they ventured into the smoking area, the woman complained that she hated the cigarette fumes which had engulfed them. Without flinching, the man took a huge, deep breath and inhaled all of the second-hand smoke in the vicinity.

Staring on in amazement, the woman asks how he could possibly have removed the smoke from the room.

The man turns back to her and replies: "I'm an ex tractor fan"

Tired of being broke and stuck in an unhappy marriage, a young husband decided to solve both problems by taking out a large insurance policy on his wife and arranging to have her killed.

A "friend of a friend" put him in touch with a nefarious underworld figure, who went by the name of "Artie." Artie explained to the husband that his going price for snuffing out a spouse was $5,000. The husband said he was willing to pay that amount, but that he wouldn't have any cash on hand until he could collect his wife's insurance money.

Artie insisted on being paid in part up front. The man opened up his wallet and displayed the single dollar bill that rested inside. Artie sighed, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly agreed to accept the dollar as down payment for the dirty deed.

A few days later, Artie followed the man's wife to the local Wall-mart grocery store. There, he surprised her in the produce department and proceeded to strangle her with his gloved hands. As the poor unsuspecting woman drew her last breath and slumped to the floor, the manager of the produce department stumbled unexpectedly onto the scene. Unwilling to leave any witnesses behind, Artie had no choice but to strangle the produce manager as well.

Unknown to Artie, the entire proceeding were captured by hidden cameras and observed by the store's security guard, who immediately called the police. Artie was caught and arrested before he could leave the store.

Under intense questioning at the police station, Artie revealed the sordid plan, including his financial arrangements with the hapless husband.

And that is why, the next day in the newspaper, the headline declared: "Artie chokes two for a dollar at Wall-mart."

"I'm like Kool-aid".

ten minutes later dad runs back into the room

"No! Wait! I'm cooler than Kool-aid. I'm iced tea."

He still calls himself "iced tea" under his breath sometimes.

I grew up on the farm, but my son was a city boy. We get there:

Son: I smell butt! Me: No, you smell dairy air.

He rolled his eyes, but I think I thought I heard him chuckle under his breath.

The other day my girlfriend and I went out for lunch. The waitress came around to collect our empty plates, and asked if we had saved room for dessert. My girlfriend's reply was, "No, thank you, I'm stuffed."

The waitress said, apparently believing it was under her breath and inaudible, a squeaky, drawn-out, "Hiiiiii stuffffed ...." then walked away with our plates, and wearing a blank expression.

At work today, a friend of mine came in with two dried Carolina Reaper peppers. If you aren't familiar with these bad boys, they are hotter than Lucifer's testicles themselves. 2.2 Million Scoville units. Two times hotter than the ghost pepper.

To put it into perspective, a jalapeno is about 5000 scoville units. This one was 2.2 fucking million.

Anyway. I walked past my buddy's desk and he asked if I wanted some of the pepper.

OF COURSE I DID!!!

He gave me 1/4 of one of these little peppers and he even dared me to chew it for 15 seconds before swallowing. Which I did. To say that my mouth felt like the burning hemorrhoids of satans budding asshole would be a vast understatement.

One of the girls who sat near my buddy looks at me -- pacing back and forth around the room, sweating, crying -- and she says:

>"Cane-Dewey, are you alright!?"

I could barely breathe let alone speak. But through all the pain and angush, I still managed to mutter out:

>"No, I'm half left.

So this happened a couple of years ago. I worked in a room of about 40 engineers. Someone on a different team always had his phone on loud, and his ringtone set as the Friends theme (which soon became pretty annoying)

Anyway, one afternoon, the offender had gone for a cigarette but left his phone behind. Phone rings, and no-one dares answer his phone for him, so we all ignore it and eventually they ring off.

Moments later, same thing happens, I think it gets through the intro and into the first verse before they ring off.

Silence. We breathe a sigh of relief. They've given up.

...

*Ding digading ding dinga din...

Someone in the office yells "HE IS ON A BREAK"

My dad likes to toss things in the house. Ask him for a soda? Catch! Need mayo on your sandwich? Heads up! You get the idea.

Last night the family was in a rush to get dinner on the table, so needless to say food was flying. My younger brother was at the table catching things and putting them on the table while my dad stood at the fridge throwin' shit. I guess my dad threw the barbecue sauce to early because my brother wasn't ready and it made impact right in the family jewels.

Brother (on the floor): Dad, you got me right in the balls!

Dad: Oh I did?

Bro is now doing that thing where you're in pain and you're talking while gritting your teeth/ holding your breath.

Brother: Yes! The barbecue sauce. Right on the dick.

Dad: Well which was it, did I hit your balls or your dick?

Brother: Same difference!!

Dad: No no no, there's a vas deferens between the two.

Me: God damnit dad, that's perfect. I'm using that.

So here I am, using it.

So my brother was venting to me about this girl he was in a relationship with but is no longer with her.

Brother: ...I'm over her.

Me: Well are you taller than her?

Brother: Yeah...

Me: Then of course you're over her.

I then proceed to crack up while he takes a deep breath.

I'm gonna make you go through the story before the payoff.

My mom asked me, "Do you have a match?" and then answered herself, "Yeah, your breath and my feet!" I looked at her quizzically and she explained that my dad used to say that when they were dating - either that or "Not since Superman." He used to say that there were "no new jokes, just new audiences."

So when my dad walks in, my mom asks him if he has a match.

What does he say?

"Not since Superman."

As Mom and I are cracking up, he says, "Well, I could have said 'your breath and my feet!'"

Mom tells him that she was telling me about how he used to say that to her, and what does he say?

"Well, you know, there are no new jokes. Just new audiences."

My dad's jokes are like a stopped clock. Infuriating, but at least you can count on them to never change.

Today, I was sitting in my Technical theater class, where we were talking about props and props lists. The instance went something like this:

Professor: We'll call the show.... Uh... "Crucible; The Musical."
Me:(Under my breath) Jesus.
Friend sitting next to me:(Turning towards me) No, witches, actually.
Me: Ughh

Heard this in one of my GA Tech OMS CS lectures. (Michael isn't my Dad, but he is definitely a Dad.) The professors were discussing criteria for determining whether or not to enter a restaurant.

Michael: How about whether it smells good?
Charles: Yea I like cleanliness. Or you know what, let's be nice to our eateries. Let's say atmosphere.
Michael: Mmm, right, because if there's no atmosphere, it's going to be really hard to breath.

The bus ride to the station had been very stressful. I spent the entire time worrying if the bus even stopped at the train station. I ended up spending nearly an hour making two loops around the city before I finally realized that I had to hop off near the station. Public transport. Jesus.

I'd missed the train I wanted to catch due to my hour-long bus ride, so I had some time to kill before the next one arrived. It had been cold and raining when I left in the morning, but by lunch time it was warm and I was sweating, standing on the station in a big yellow hoodie and jeans.

I had overslept and skipped breakfast earlier, so I resolved not to let the loud farts coming from the old man next to me kill my appetite. I was desperate for a snack.

Initially the vending machine told me it would accept "EXACT CHANGE ONLY". Slightly annoying, but no real problem: I just fished out my change, inserted some alternative coins and punched in the number. I watched the object of my desire inch forwards, ready to drop into the bottom where I could collect it. For some reason I was terrified that it might get stuck. Robbed by a robot, how embarrassing. Luckily the packet fell into the tray. Finally something was going my way.

As I reached into the bottom of the machine and pushed open the metal door, it suddenly stuck. It was wedged in place and the gap was too small for my snack to fit through. "Motherfucker..." I whispered under my breath.

But I was too invested to give up now. Determined not to be beaten by a bloody machine, I pulled hard and the packet burst, spilling chips into the tray. I managed to salvage about half of the crisps and ate them greedily. Partially crushed, but still deliciously cheesy.

At this point it occurred to me that perhaps I should tell the station operator that the vending machine was broken. I walked up to the ticket office and saw a bored, tired looking man in his forties. "I just thought I'd let you know the vending machine is jammed," I announced.

The attendant got up, walked over over to the vending machine and gave it a solid kick, dislodging the little metal door which had foiled me. When he turned to me again his expression had changed from boredom to amusement. "So what flavour was it then? Strawberry?"

I groaned, but couldn't resist a smile.

I knew it was going to be a good day.

MURDER AT COSTCO STORE

Tired of constantly being broke and stuck in an unhappy marriage, a young husband decided to solve both problems by taking out a large insurance policy on his wife with himself as the beneficiary and then arranging to have her killed.

A 'friend of a friend' put him in touch with a nefarious dark-side underworld figure who went by the name of 'Artie.' Artie explained to the husband that his going price for snuffing out a spouse was $10,000.

The Husband said he was willing to pay that amount but that he wouldn't have any cash on hand until he could collect his wife's insurance money. Artie insisted on being paid at least something up front, so the man opened his wallet, displaying the single dollar that rested inside. Artie sighed, rolled his eyes and reluctantly agreed to accept the dollar as down payment for the dirty deed.

A few days later, Artie followed the man's wife to the local Costco supermarket. There, he surprised her in the produce department and proceeded to strangle her with his gloved hands. As the poor unsuspecting woman drew her last breath and slumped to the floor, the manager of the produce department stumbled unexpectedly onto the murder scene. Unwilling to leave any living witnesses behind, Artie had no choice but to strangle the produce manager as well.

However, unknown to Artie, the entire proceedings were captured by the hidden security cameras and observed by the shop's security guard, who immediately called the police. Artie was caught and arrested before he could even leave the premises.

Under intense questioning at the police station, Artie revealed the whole sordid plan, including his unusual financial arrangements with the hapless husband who was also quickly arrested.

The next day in the newspaper, the headline declared...

(You're going to hate me for this.........)

'ARTIE CHOKES 2 for $1.00 Costco