No Shape Puns

Gaseous Clay.

It would be really depressing.

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

Not completely sure this is a dadjoke but it sure got the same reaction. This happened about two years ago.

My wife used to work nights and on Friday and Saturday after she went to work, my then-12yo son and I would often watch a movie together. Sometimes he picked, usually it was a movie from The List, movies I liked when I was his age, things that shaped my sense of humor. I want him to be able to recognize the stupid quotes and references I throw at him. It’s his cultural education.

So we settled in for Groundhog Day. I’m a sucker for time travel shenanigans. Finished it up, he enjoyed it, and the next morning he was off to Boy Scout camp for a week.

He came back, we’re all excited to see him, and I tell him I got Groundhog Day 2 from Netflix. Threw it in the DVD player and we got about 20 minutes into before he looked at me and said “this is just Groundhog Day all over again, isn’t it? There is no Groundhog Day 2.”

So worth an extra week hanging onto the disc.

Me: While I was in the shower the water pressure wasn’t right, and I noticed the tubing on the handheld shower head is bent out of shape.

Wife: OK. Are you going to fix it?

Me: Eventually. But I have to confess something. I went ahead and used it this morning the way it is. Are you upset?

Wife: Upset? No. Why?

Me: Well, I think most wives would be pretty mad if they heard their husband had been taking a shower with some kinky hose.

Germany.

I'm no dad but I'll get myself into shape for when the time comes .

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

Every time geese flew in a "V" shape over the house:

Grandpa- "Do you know why one side is longer than the other?"

Me- "No, why?"

Grandpa- "Because there's more geese on that side. Huehuehue!"

So some birds were flying over us in that V-shape they tend to fly in, and my old man looked up, almost in awe, and said to me:

Dad: Wow, look at those birds, son. See how they fly in that V shape?

Me (in a genuine child-like awe): Yeah, that's cool, dad.

Dad: See how one side of the V is longer than the other?

Me: Yeah.

Dad: You know why that is?

Me: No, why?

Dad: Cause there are more birds on that side, dumbass.

EDIT: I somehow JUST saw the Mod Sticky post from last week, where a lot of users have expressed similar sentiments to these. I apologize to the mods if this is not appropriate and respect your decision if you want to delete it. I just wanted to see if people were thinking the same kind of thing. Still, read it if ya like.

It used to be that /r/dadjokes was a place to post actual stories of real dad humor. 'My dad pulled out this groaner at dinner.' 'Just became a dad...I think I get it now!' These are the things that warm my heart and tickle my corny bone. And I don't think I'm alone.

Now, we're arrogant enough to think we know the formula for dad humor, so we can post anything reminiscent of it, and it counts as a dad joke. It's as if we think we own dad humor now, and we can bend it and shape it at will.

Let me tell you, folks. WE DO NOT OWN DAD HUMOR.

Even the dads among us don't own it. I think the universe just channels it through them in brilliant, glorious, involuntary sneezes. Some are more deft than others, and are seen by the universe as more worthy outlets. But they do not own it.

We can get close to elusive heart of dad humor, we can approach it, we can dance around it...but we can never touch it. This is where I take issue with posts like this one, which currently has over 4000 upvotes and 2000 net karma. Is it reminiscent of dad-like punly-ness? Would a dad chortle heartily at reading it? Yes, almost certainly yes. But does that make it a dad joke? No...I would argue not.

Dad jokes are also not just about the jokes themselves. They're about the response--that he manages to be surprised at his own genius, even on the eightieth repetition. They're about the face-palms and straight stares of family members. What is a dad joke without context?

My proposed solution: ban link/image posts. I wish it wouldn't have to come to that, but I can't see another way to get back on track to the real goal here. I have hover zoom--I understand the desire for instant gratification. I've skipped over interesting looking videos because they required a click.

But that's not why I come here.

I understand that there are legitimate dad jokes transmitted via text, or perhaps requiring a bit of visual context. At this point, though, I think they are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause. They can always be transcribed into text, or included in a self-post. Maybe it seems a bit extreme, especially in the face

So here's the setup: I recently started working for a taxi cab company. It's surprisingly lucrative, and a shitload better than McDonalds.

So I'm working, and I'm parked in front of a bar, hoping that a fare is gonna knock on my window, when about twenty feet or so in front of me, I see a very good friend of mine. I shout, and we spend the next few minutes shooting the breeze. A fare knocks on my window, and I driver her to where she needs to go.

After, I'm driving back to that bar, and I get a call from my friend, asking if I had another fare lined up. I didn't so he told me to come back, he's got a group for me. They get in the car, and these guys start bugging the shit out of me. Which I can handle. What I can't handle is when they start dealing each other cocaine in my back seat. At that point, I'm just livid. I tell them to give me my money and get the fuck out of my car.

Later, I chat my friend up on Facebook. I tell him that I'm super-grateful that he got me a fare, but to please not ever put those particular assholes in my car again. And since our relationship is built on surreal humor and snark, I start expanding the list. Those assholes. Colombian drug lords. Justin Beiber. Kim Jong-Un. Please, no Korean dictators.

"But what about a penis-shaped potato?"

I'll admit, that one threw me for a loop. But I tell him that potatoes are fine, regardless of shape, size, color, or type.

At that point, I could almost hear him laughing as he typed "Excellent. Instead of a dictator, I'll send you with a dick tater."

I was so pissed off I had walked straight into that one.

Backstory: Many years ago I was living on my own about 45 minutes away from my parents. I had a stable job but didn't make much money and was broke most of the time. I had an old beat up car that was my only form of transportation. I would always have mechanical issues with the car and finally one morning it decided it wouldn't start no matter what.

I sheepishly had to call in to work and explain the situation and let them know that I would have to take a sick day but would figure some way to get to work the next day. I called my dad and he offered to come pick the car up on his trailer and take it back to his garage to work on it and get it in shape to trade it in.

He drives to my apartment, we get the car on the trailer and we are headed back to his house. The whole ride there I'm pretty pissed off and depressed about the whole situation. I'm worried about finding a new car and how I'm going to afford it and what I'm gonna do if I can't get it running again.

Dad senses my mood and pretty much keeps quiet the whole time. We get about three blocks away from his house and he utters this gem.

"Man, this car won't get off my ass. He's been tailgating me for 45 minutes now."

This was the perfect thing to snap me out of my funk and break the tension. I absolutely lost it. Only a Dad Joke could make me realize how trivial the whole thing was. I have told this joke to others who didn't really think it was that funny, but to me at the time it was the greatest thing ever.

Thanks Dad.

Just found half a tin of alphabet spaghetti shapes in the fridge.. Me:How long has this been in the fridge? Wife:Dunno, couple of days maybe, should still be ok, there's no meat in it. Me:Yes there is, look, M, E, A, T, that spells meat! Groans all round, son shakes his head and walks away.

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":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

This one requires a little backstory:

There's a cardgame called WHOT! It's just uno but with different shapes. Me and my dad used to play it a lot.

Unfortunately it's led to the same terrible joke being made repeatedly over the last 10 years or so. It goes something like this:

Dad: "You'll never guess what film's on tv tonight."

Me: "What?"

Dad: "No, I don't think they made a movie out of that. It's a card game."

It's literally been going on for over a decade now and it pains me deep inside my soul every time he says it.

After my dad sees me looking in wonder at the flock of geese flying in a V shape overhead. I was 8...

Dad: "Do you know why one side of the V is longer than the other?"

Me: "No, why!?"

Dad: with a huge grin "Because there are more birds on that side!"

I still use this and I'm 20

At a wedding reception where the chocolates on the table were in nice looking package.

• Dad: Don't throw that way; I'll take them home.
• Mom: Great another of one thousand useless items that'll be on a shelf.
• Dad: Aaaaw, Honey -- I'd never put you on the shelf.

While watching a baseball game:

• Mom: Are they "boo'ing?" Nobody "boos" anymore.
• Dad: Hey can I have a blow job?
• Mom: Shut up.
• Dad: Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

In regards to meatloaf my mother made:

• Mom: Sorry the meatloaf isn't that good.
• Dad: It's Ok. But next time try adding some Alpo.

While eating at relatives' house:

• Mom: Wow. This is really good! We used to eat like this all the time growing up.
• Uncle: Really? Where I come from we just call it Hamburger Helper.

In regards to an inappropriately shaped child's toy:

• Me: Did you buy that at one of those special stores you guys got in San Francisco?
• Grandfather: What?! Of course not! God no - that's not mine!
• ...
• Grandfather: It's too small...

When my brother and I were screwing around instead of helping in the garage:

• Dad: You know, twice, twice! I thought I got it out quick enough but some must have dribbled back inside.

After listening to a 3 minute voice mail from my mother:

• Me: What did she want?
• Dad: You want the long or the short version?
• Me: Short.
• Dad: Nothing.
• Me: Ok long version.
• Dad: Nothing much.

So I call up my dad today because my mom isn't answering her cell. When he answers I ask, "hey dad, is mom around?" His reply: "Umm, no, I think she's more sausage-shaped".

My dad and I were out in the yard one day in the fall, a flock of geese fly over.

Dad: You see that flock of geese up there?

Me: Ya

Dad: You ever notice....(pause for effect).... that they fly in that....(long pause)... V-Shape?

Me: Ya

Dad:You ever notice.....(long pause for dramatic effect)... that one line.....(pause while pointing at the flock)..... is almost always longer than the other?

Me:Ya

Dad: (Long pause, he has got me now) Do you know why that is?

Me: No

Dad: (Cracking a smile) Because there are more geese in that line.

A few of the new trainees approached me at work today and told me how part of their (and probably every other American's) New Years Resolutions were to get in better shape. They proceeded to ask me if I knew any gyms in the area.

Naturally I responded, "No, but I know a few James's"

Groaning ensued.

Me: Is Rew around? Dad: No he's more oblong shaped

...and they have these little cardboard coin banks shaped like buses for families to take home. After the service we were all standing around, waiting for my mom to finish talking to people. I'm on my phone, when all of a sudden I hear something hit the ground between my feet. I look, and there's one of the cardboard buses between my feet, and my dad standing there with a huge grin. I look at him, confused.

"see what I did there?"
"what?"
"see what I did there?"
"no..."
"I threw the BUS under YOU!"

and he walked away dad-chuckling to himself.
well played, dad. well played.