A list of puns related to "No Holiday"
I'm now dealing with emotional baggage.
Before you let your kids get a puppy, take the Puppy Test.
Best taken in the autumn or mid winter.
No matter how hard I tried, you could always see the jar sticking out. It was a Vlasic holiday blunder.
What would you get if you crossed a vampire and a teacher?
Lots of blood tests!
Why did Draculaβs mother give him cough medicine?
Because he was having a coffin fit.
Why did the vampireβs lunch give him heartburn?
It was a stake sandwich.
Dracula decided he needed a dog, which breed did he choose?
A bloodhound.
What is a vampireβs favorite holiday?
Fangsgiving.
What did the vampire say to the Invisible Man?
βLong time, no see!β
Why is Dracula so unpopular?
Because heβs a pain in the neck!
http://bestcleanfunnyjokes.com/one-line-vampire-jokes-for-halloween/
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
βNo, just a holiday.β
So me and my Dad are talking when my Dad says this...
Dad: "Did you hear about the guy who just got back from holiday?"
Me: "No, what happened?"
Dad: "The Airline lost all of his luggage, so he went to sue them but the judge said he had no 'case'"
He couldn't stop grinning.
Back in the late 80's, my dad had a joke he loved to tell everyone he met. It went something like this:
I was driving down the road and ended up behind this ambulance with its rear door open. I tried honking and flashing my lights to get their attention about it, but they didn't seem to notice. As they turned the corner away from us, a small cooler fell out. I pulled over to rescue the cooler, and when I opened it, I found a human toe, on ice.
At this point, the victim of the joke is supposed to ask what he did with the toe. He responds with "I called the Tow Truck!" and hearty laughter.
Being the 1980's, e-mail wasn't prevalent, and calling long distance could get expensive, so he communicated with his out of state family primarily through mailed letters. He wrote this joke (sans punchline) in a letter to his mom. Not knowing it was a joke, she told the story to her friends and family. My aunt heard this story, and told it to her classes (she's a teacher) and one of her students actually got in a fight with his mom who said that could never happen.
A month or two later, we were getting together for a holiday and the toe story came up in conversation. My dad replied that he called the tow truck, and his laughter was met with horrified stares. By this time, nearly everyone in the small town was enthralled with this amazing story that my grandma had told about her son who lived in the city. She was imagining all of the people she had to contact to tell the real story to. Many took it in stride, but others were quite annoyed. Especially my aunt, who had to apologize to every one of her classes at school.
TLDR: A dad joke with no punch line doesn't belong in a letter.
Allow me to regale you with a couple tales illustrating my late dad's sense of humor. Last names faked because I'm not that stupid.
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(1). At a routine PTA meeting about me in my Georgia school, everyone found themselves packed into a hot and stuffy room waiting for the boredom to end. Shoulder to shoulder fun, can you picture it?
My dad lets one rip. It's loud, smelly, and echoes. The room falls silent as the fart invites itself unfavorably to the nostrils of those in attendance.
He turns to my mom and with his best shocked face says, "... Patty!"
I like to think he slept on the couch that night.
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(2). During my old man's wait for us to arrive at the new home he had bought, he had to deal with ongoing construction and roughed it at a hotel for a few nights. He was a retired Master Chief Machinist's Mate, so cramped quarters reminded him of the sub's nuclear engine room. No biggie.
An interview comes up for a civilian nuclear power plant nearby, and before you know it my dad's sitting before these stuffy, serious, wrinkly old board members and managers, having his (mostly military) resume picked through.
"Well Mister Smith, we're impressed. Twenty two years is no small amount of time to dedicate to the service. But do you feel you're qualified to operate and audit a civilian fission power plant?"
My dad thinks on it for a second.
"Well no, sir, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."
He got the job immediately.
(For those needing the reference)
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Thanks for caring to read. I miss him a lot and this subreddit always reminds me of his sense of dry, quick humor. Take care!
"Around a quarter past."
My grandfather gives that answer every single time you ask him what time something will be, no matter what the subject. It's hilarious and infuriating in equal measure.
"When do you plan on going on holiday this year?
"Around a quarter past."
I work in a historic house all decorated for the holidays. Visitor comes in: "Can we take pictures here?" Me: "Yes, just no flash." Visitor: "But we can take pictures right?" Me: "Yes....." Visitor points at the wall. "I want that one."
Parents were visiting for the holiday, my dad and I were talking about a little project we wanted to do. He said "I might be willing to do that if I was so inclined" He was standing up, so I paused and said "Well, you look pretty vertical right now, so I guess that's a no"
A short while later, I had run some errands, and when I came home, my dad was laying on the couch. I asked him about the project, since he was now inclined.
Checkout person (male or female - no one is spared): do you want help with your packing?
Dad: well yes, if you don't mind. I'm going away on holiday tomorrow!
Me: Where's your bin?
Dad: On holiday.
Me: No where's your wheelie bin?
Dad: I wheelie been on holiday!
My girlfriend and I were visiting her mother for the holidays. She's a sweet li'l ol' church lady, and my gf & I were expecting to have an evening to ourselves while she went to choir practice -- until she got a call from the musical director saying he was sick, and that practice would be cancelled.
"Well," I said, "I guess her presence is no longer re-choired."
Dad: Did I tell you about the holiday party I went to last week?
Me: No...
Dad: I met a woman with a Merry Christmas tattoo on one thigh, and a Happy New Year tattoo on the other. She said that everyone was welcome to come up between the holidays.
The last day of work before the holiday shutdown, an older coworker and me went out for a beer after work. The waitress brought us out bottles and asked "Would you like glasses?" to which he pulled out his safety glasses and said "No, we're covered."
She looked at him, shook her head and walked away.
I just came back from a holiday back to the UK to visit friends and family (am an expat).
While we were there we went to a nice community festival, with some great beers. An American friend of a friend proudly proclaimed that heβd bought a pint of red stout.
Looking up at the board, and seeing the name of the beer, my eyes lit up: a golden opportunity had just presented itself.
βNah mate, thatβs not red stout, itβs called Red Stoat. You do know what a stoat is, right?
[confusion]
βWell, itβs a little rodent, a bit like a weasel. You know how you can tell the difference between a stoat and a weasel?β
βEr..β
βWellβ, I says, βa weasel is weasily identifiable, and a stoat is stoatally different.β
Cue a puzzled look on the guys face, and a momentβs silence, broken by me and my friend pissing ourselves laughing, not at the joke of course, but at his reaction.
So this was all very well and good, just another in the litany of bad jokes that floats in my wake, and I thought the story ended there.
Karma, however, had other plansβ¦
A few days later, weβre up in the Lake District, walking back to the hotel after a pub dinner. As weβre walking down the road, we see a small carnivorous rodent dragging the recently deceased body of a rabbit back to its home. It was either a stoat, or a weasel, but you know what? I honestly had no way to tell whichβ¦
Planning out the holiday potluck in the company kitchen.
M: Hey do we have any more of those things to keep the food hot? The chafing dish things. What do you call those?
G: I think they're Bunsen B-... wait no.
B: Burners?
M: Yeah but there's another word for them
G: Yeah. What is it?
B: Burners.
M: No that's not right.
....
M: We should ask Sean Paul. He would know
.... ?
M: Cause he be burnin'.
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