Not Final! Puns

He said with a trembling voice, "Because water works!"

Especially when I saw him in the cartoon.

6 couldn't believe it. 7 had finally gone off the deep end. 7 had long offended 6. A repeat 6 offender if you will. But this was unforgivable. 9 was his best friend. How could he do this to his best friend? How could it be that 7 ate 9?

6, filled with fury, called his friends 2 and 4. They would get even. 10 was the best friend of 7 you see. 2, 4 and 6 ate 10 to get even. They then began plotting further revenge, but 7 acted first. He gathered 1, 3 and 5 together to take down 6.

Realizing that the odds were against them, 2, 4 and 6 retreated. Their only option was to turn to 12 who had twice the resources 6 had. 7 couldn't follow.

12 quickly called 3 to find out what the root of 7's attack on 9. 3 wasn't sure. He had only supported 7 because of a long standing friendship. But 3 promised to get to the root cause.

Meanwhile, 7's scheming was not yet done. 12 was powerful, but there was one who could reverse his decision to harbor 6. If he could just convince 21, nicknamed blackjack, to reverse 12's decision, it would all be over.

Three times 7 went to 21's compound. On the third try he was able to get through. After explaining that 6 had masterminded the elimination of 10, a grand meeting of the numbers was called.

Both 6 and 7 argued over the whole thing. 13 had the unlucky task of adjudicating the meeting. Each time 13 made an argument, 6 and 7 would add to it by shouting over each other.

Finally, 21 had had enough. "7, why did you eat 9"

7 responded "I just wanted to get 3 square meals." 21 had 7 eliminated for initiating the battle and 6 jailed for masterminding 10's death. And the war was over.

He told me I'm probably not cut out for hospice care.

With years of waiting I finally said "Hay pregnant I'm dad" "No, no you are not" she responded

Math, physics, comp sci. The only easy class was "The American Century." Open book midterm and final, so he wasn't going to do any of the reading all semester.

“It’s a huge waste of time, Dad,” he laughed when I objected. “I’m not learning a damn thing in the class.”

“Well, then you’re just going to have to take that class over again,” I snapped at him.

“What are you talking about?” he yelped.

“You know why, Gabe,” I said. “Those who don’t learn from history are condemned to repeat it.”

One called Justin and the other called Kristian. The prawns were constantly being harassed and threatened by sharks that inhabited the area:

Finally one day Justin said to Kristian. "I'm fed up with being a prawn. I wish I was a shark and then I wouldn't have any worries about being eaten."

A large mysterious cod appeared and said. "Your wish is granted" Low and behold, Justin turned into a shark. Horrified, Kristian immediately swam away, afraid of being eaten by his old mate.

Time passed (as it does) and Justin found life as a shark boring and lonely All his old mates simply swam away whenever he came close to them. Justin didn't realise that his new menacing appearance was the cause of his sad plight.

While swimming alone one day he saw the mysterious cod again and he thought perhaps the mysterious fish could change him back into a prawn..

He approached the cod and begged to be changed back, and, lo and behold, he found himself turned back into a prawn.

With tears of joy in his tiny little eyes Justin swam to Kristian's home. As he opened the coral gate, memories came flooding back. He banged on the door and shouted. "It's me, Justin, your old friend, come out and see me again."

Kristian replied. "No way man, you'll eat me. You're now a shark, the enemy and I'll not be tricked into being your dinner." Justin cried back. "No, I'm not. That was the old me. I've changed....... I've found Cod. I'm a Prawn again Kristian!!.. 🤪🤣

When the Allies thought it was just him, he claimed there were not 1 but 2. Then he changed his story to 3. Then he said 5, then 8, then 13, and finally 21. When the Allies made it to his position, they discovered that it actually was just him.

Turns out he was a fibber nazi.

Back in the before times, when sit-down restaurants existed, I used to order boneless cheese sticks and would just throw the word "boneless" in front of any appetizer with 100% corniness. The purpose of this isn't to make a good joke. It's not a good joke. The purpose is to make my dining companions catch some cringe splash damage and want to crawl into a hole and die out of embarrassment for my being horribly corny.

But there is a real, deeper purpose that I've discovered entirely by accident. People, especially young people, are so self-conscious and worried about saying or doing something embarrassing that it taints a lot of social gatherings. They go to a restaurant and are afraid to speak up even when their order is blatantly wrong. They'll tip well even when the food took an hour to arrive and the server has disappeared into the corn stalks behind a baseball field. It takes 2 hours of hanging out together before some friends finally stop nitpicking themselves, uncomfortable in their own bodies and brains, feeling perpetually judged, and begin to relax. These are the kinds of people who go to sleep every night replaying cringey moments from high school. Their last thought of the day is when the Burger King girl said, "Enjoy your meal!" and they said, "Thanks, you too."

It takes 2 hours and/or a lot of booze before they're comfortable enough to take conversational risks and truly reveal themselves. But if I come right out of the gate with a really dumb joke, then we can cut to the chase. There's less danger because someone in the group already shot themselves in the foot, right off the bat. They pulled a pin on the cringe grenade and then jumped on it.

You cringe at my dumb joke and then we're over the hump. Someone has already done something pretty stupid, so go ahead and order the hubcap of nachos and a massive chocolate shake because nobody is going to judge you poorly while they're all judging me.

In terms of price negotiations (haggling), there is a psychological concept called "anchoring". You throw out the first number and all subsequent numbers are compared to that number. This is the same idea. We've already set the humor standard pretty low at "boneless cheese sticks", so you can say the dumbest shit you want and, as long as it's not worse than my cheesy joke, it won't matter.

This is why, when you were a teenager and your dad took you and some friends out, your dad made corny jokes. He knew they were corny jokes. You and your friends un

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

And they interviewed an applicant named Stan. Stan had no arms due to an accident so the hiring manager asked how he would ever be able to do the job.

"I'll show you",said Stan.

They walked up flight after flight of stairs to the Bell tower all the while the manager wondered how Stan would ever be able to do the job. His questions were soon answered when after reaching the Bell tower, Stan took off running striking the bell face first. Gooong goes the bell. Stan picks himself up, takes off running face first at the bell, Gooong.

"Hold, on. You'll hurt yourself."

"I'm tough," said Stan, " "and I really needed this job"

"Ok," said the manager, leaving Stan to do the job.

All day the bell rang on the hour correctly and the manager thought too soon that he had misjudged Stan. Finally, at six in the evening there were only three gongs, then a commotion. Going out to see what was going on he found Stan dead on the street below. Apparently he had become disoriented from head trauma and missed the bell entirely falling to the street below.

"Who was this man, Who was he?" asked the crowd.

Not wanting to admit liability for the accident, the manager said "I don't know."

"But his face sure rings a bell"

It was the perfect meet cute and we kept both copies even after getting married. It was sweet. Not all things are meant to last and when things got a bit rocky we decided to get divorced. I let her keep the apartment and moved my stuff out. Unfortunately, we live in one of those states that mail out ballots. She sent me a text a week after I had left to let me know my ballot had come to the apartment. We had ended things amicably, but neither of us wanted to see each other so soon. Committed to my civic duty, I dropped by after work the next day. When she opened the door she was in tears. She had me come in and I immediately saw it, I had forgotten to take my copy of the movie. Somehow, this felt more final than actually signing the divorce papers. I still cared about her, so I asked if she wanted to talk at all. She shook her head and said through tears, “Just take your Up, vote and go.”

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

They will be so disappointed when the finale is not a cliffhanger.

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."

This actually happened a couple years ago, but I've decided to finally come out if lurking to share it here.

I was on a trip with some friends and we had stopped for lunch. We weren't very busy so my buddy and I shared a plate of wings and a couple pitchers of beer. When it came to pay, the bill was $20.01 (I don't remember how much it actually was, but it was an odd number) and we just split the bill down the middle. When we got our checks, his had the extra penny. We joked about him paying so much more, and so I said I would add an extra penny to my tip, plus one more penny to one up him.

Afterwards when we were walking out my buddy turned to me and said "do you think she'll she even notice?" I said "I like to think that she will notice and maybe chuckle at it. Besides pennies can add up and make a difference, but that's just my 2 cents"

I am not a dad yet. But I definitely feel the fatherly humor running through my veins.

Me sitting in the final interview of AbInbev.

Interviewer: Sorry, You are not selected.

Me: Budweiser?

The father said it was a very old story about two inventors named Johnson and Hues. One day Hues was working feverishly on his latest project and talking to himself out loud. Unfortunately for Johnson, his project was not going well and Hues' constant chatter was getting on his last nerve. Suddenly, Hues lept from his chair in excitement and said "I finally did it!" "I finally invented a protective layer of apparel to be worn on the feet!" Johnson was a timid man that never attempted to stifle Hues' talking, but he was about to snap. At last, Hues cried out one last time to himself "...but what shall I call them?", to which Johnson finally retorted, "SSSSHHHH, Hues!"

He was operating a late night train and fell asleep at the controls. He ended up failing to recognise a stop sign and as a result his train hit a person and killed them immediately. He was tried for manslaughter and sentenced to the electric chair. Just before being put in the chair, he was given the choice of final meal and chose a single banana, oddly. His time came and he was placed into the chair, the room vacated and then the switch was thrown.

But... Nothing. No sparks, no burning, nothing. They checked the machine and it was working fine, it just seemed not to harm him. The state law meant that, legally, his sentence had been carried out and he was free to go. He walked away a free man, and actually got another job as a train driver.

Sadly, almost exactly the same thing happened again. This time his negligence killed two kids playing around on the tracks when again he'd fallen asleep and failed to stop the train in time. Hauled before the courts again, he got exactly the same sentence - the electric chair. He was asked again for his final meal, chose two bananas this time, and his sentence was carried out again.

And yet again, he didn't die. In fact, he was entirely unharmed. The state law remained the same, so he was let out again, where - somehow - he got another job with another train company. I guess it was the only job he was trained for (pardon the pun). Anyway, this time he did much better and worked hard to stay awake during his late shifts. But sure enough, eventually he slipped back in to old habits and this time killed five people - a family trying to free their dog stuck in the tracks.

Once again he faced a jury, once again they found him guilty and a judge sentenced him to the electric chair. This time he asked for 5 bananas, but the guard was wiley - he has read about this man and how he always had bananas before his sentence was carried out, and so this time (with a grin, it's said) he brought the train driver 5 apples instead. The guilty man plead and begged for bananas, but the guard claimed it was an honest mistake but too late to change now.

The man was lead for a third time to the electric chair. His head was wetted, his arms strapped in, and the guard eyed him with something between wonder and fear. Finally the room was vacated and the switch thrown. Surely this time the machine would do its job? With the process finished, the guard ran back into the room, only to find the man still alive and looking entirely healthy. "I do

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

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."

[from NPR-- this sub doesn't allow link posts]

The annual turkey pardon is a silly tradition, and President Obama knows it. On Wednesday, before pardoning turkeys named Tater and Tot, Obama summed up his feelings about this particular duty.

"It is my great privilege — well, it's my privilege — actually, let's just say it's my job to grant them clemency this afternoon," Obama said.

Not in attendance for the president's final turkey pardoning ceremony were first daughters Sasha and Malia Obama, who gamely laughed alongside their father last year. So instead, the president's nephews Austin and Aaron Robinson stood by for what Obama called his "corny-copia of dad jokes about turkeys."

And thus began a pun-fest for the ages. Here's a list of President Obama's groaners from this year's pardoning ceremony:

"Actually [Sasha and Malia] just couldn't take my jokes anymore. They were fed up."

"What I haven't told them yet is we are going to do this every year from now on. No cameras, just us, every year. No way I'm cutting this habit cold turkey."

"Tater is here in a backup role just in case Tot can't fulfill his duties. So he's sort of like the vice turkey. We're working on getting him a pair of aviator glasses."

"I want to take a moment to recognize the brave turkeys who weren't so lucky. Who didn't get to ride the gravy train to freedom. Who met their fate with courage and sacrifice and proved that they weren't chicken."

[After touting positive economic indicators and the low uninsured rate] "That's worth gobbling about."

"We should also make sure everyone has something to eat on Thanksgiving. Of course, except the turkeys, because they're already stuffed."

"When somebody at your table tells you that you've been hogging all of the side dishes, you can't have any more, I hope that you respond with a creed that sums up the spirit of a hungry people: 'Yes, we cran.' "

"Look, I know there are some bad ones in here, but this is the last time I'm doing this, so we're not leaving any room for leftovers."

"And now from the Rose Garden, Tater and Tot will go to their new home at Virginia Tech, which is admittedly a bit hokey." (The Hokies are the Virginia Tech mascot.)

"And so let's get on with the pardoning. Because it's Wednesday afternoon and everyone knows that Thanksgiving traffic can put people in a foul mood."

[from NPR -- http://www.npr.org/2016/11/23/503178220/president-obamas-2016-turkey-pardon-dad-jokes-the-definitive-list?utm_source=facebook.com

A man is walking into an expensive restaurant when he is stopped by the Maitre'D, who tells him that he can't be admitted without a necktie. The man, late for his appointment, runs back out to his car and searches high and low. Finally, out of desperation, he grabs a set of jumper cables, ties them into a rough knot around his neck and runs back into the restaurant. The Maitre'D stares at him for a few seconds and finally says, "Alright, I'll let you in..." and then leans in and says in a low growl, "but you'd better not try to start anything."

But after looking through her knicker drawer and finding a nurse's outfit, a French maids outfit, and a police woman's uniform, I finally decided: if she can't hold down a job, she's not for me.

There was a man in Bulgaria who drove a train for a living.

He loved his job, driving a train had been his dream ever since he was a child.

He loved to make the train go as fast as possible.

Unfortunately, one day he was a little too reckless and caused a crash.

He made it out, but a single person died.

Well, needless to say, he went to court over this incident.

He was found guilty, and was sentenced to death by electrocution.

When the day of the execution came, he requested a single banana as his last meal.

After eating the banana, he was strapped into the electric chair.

The switch was flown, sparks flew and smoke filled the air- but nothing happened.

The man was perfectly fine.

Well, at the time, there was an old Bulgarian law that said a failed execution was a sign of divine intervention, so the man was allowed to go free.

And somehow, he managed to get his old job back driving the train.

Having not learned his lesson at all, he went right back to driving the train with reckless abandon.

Once again, he caused a train to crash, this time killing two people.

The trial went much the same as the first, resulting in a sentence of execution.

For his final meal, the man requested two bananas.

After eating the bananas, he was strapped into the electric chair.

The switch was thrown, sparks flew, smoke filled the room- and the man was once again unharmed.

Well, this of course meant that he was free to go.

And once again, he somehow manages to get his old job back.

To what should have been the surprise of no one, he crashed yet another train and killed three people.

And so he once again found himself being sentenced to death.

On the day of his execution, he requested his final meal- three bananas.

"You know what? No," said the executioner. "I've had it with you and your stupid bananas and walking out of here unharmed. I'm not giving you a thing to eat, we're strapping you in and doing this now."

Well, it was against protocol, but the man was strapped in to the electric chair without a last meal.

The switch was pulled, sparks flew, smoke filled the room- and the man was still unharmed.

The executioner was speechless.

The man looked at the executioner and said "Oh, the bananas had nothing to do with it. I'm just a bad conductor."

because of a certain case, which made it so that all the zoo animals had to stay in his bedroom. One of them keeps on waking him up, but he’s not sure which one. He goes to see an expert on similar situations like this. They go over which one is the most likely. The expert says:

“It’s not the fox, since those are quiet. It’s also most likely not the monkeys, because these types sleep well.”

They have a conversation like this, but the zookeeper keeps on wanting to talk about his elephant, which he loved and thought would never want to wake him up. The expert notices and plays along for a while, avoiding the subject until all other animals are no longer a suspect. The expert finally gets tired and asks the zookeeper:

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Okay, so this is my first post, so be gentle there. It s more a funny thing my dad did to mess with us than a dad joke. Our parents explained it to us , so i don t have the dialogues here. When we were little, my brother and I of course asked my parents how do we make babies, because we wanted a little bro or sis and they did not wanted us to get one. So we asked them how babies are made. They explained to us that you need 3 things ; a mother's belly , dad's seeds and a little bit of love. That was cute, they said that daddy had to put his seeds in mummy 's belly with the love. When we asked how, they told us to guess -this is why we thought babies were made by the bellybutton, they did really had fun with us- and then, finally, we asked them why they would not make us a little brother then. My father, had this brilliant idea to mess with us, which we sometimes did not notice, as we were little. He basically told us with a huge smile accros his face :" You know what ? If you find the good seeds, we'll make you one". My mother laughed but we took it seriously. We have apparently searched for hours even going in the basement, searching in mom's gardening seeds, ripping of the labels and bringing them to the parents to ask if these were the good ones . We eventually got fed up, and never asked my parents to have a sibling again.

For the first time in my life I’m not skinny. For those of you who have held out this long for a fat joke, the weight is finally over.

In the version they're doing, the bass section plays a bit at the start, then just sits there til the final part of the last movement. So, they decide to leave the concert and go out for drinks.

While at the bar down the street, they meet a European nobleman, and they become good friends. Unfortunately, the guy had been gorging himself on crappy bar food, and he quickly falls into a food coma.

One of the basses drunkenly checks his watch and says, "crap! We're not going to get back on stage in time!" As they're sprinting back, one of them says, "actually, I thought this would happen, so I tied some of the pages of the conductor's score together - that way, he'll have to slow the tempo way down with his right hand while undoes the knots with his left!"

And so they get back just in time to finish the Symphony, and the audience is none the wiser. The conductor, however, was furious.

After all, they'd left him at the bottom of the 9th, with the score tied, while the basses were loaded, and the Count was full.

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

He calls his son and says he wanted to tell him something for a long time.

Son Ant : What is it dad?

Father Ant : I cannot say that in this god forbidden country we have to move immediately to France or Italy before i am dead.

Confused,the Son Ant made arrangements to move to France.They boarded a spy ship which took them to south Korea.From there they boarded a flight to France.With great difficulty they finally reached France.The father ant's health became worse.The son ant was thinking what was so important that they had to move to another country, So when they settled in their new home he finally asked..

Son Ant : Dad, We are in France now you can tell whatever you were going to tell me. The Father could not speak up so he signaled his son to come closer.The son did.

Father Ant: Son, We are now Europeants.

The lamp is then fastened by the sea, just so none of the townsfolk get into trouble. One day, an inquisitive young chap opens the lamp and the wizard starts wreaking havoc upon the town. All the scientists gather and decide to chemically dissolve the lamp. But all the chemicals they have fail to work. They try to burn it, melt it and what not but nothing works. Finally one scientist says “I know exactly what we should do. Pour excessive chemicals and try to dissolve it. I know we’ve tried it before but let’s give it another shot.” They bring in acids and other corrosives from the neighbouring cities and pour it on the lamp and it successfully dissolves and the wizard disappears. Everyone is amazed and asks the scientist “How did you know about the extra chemicals?” The bald, black scientist looks at them and says “Oh that’s easy. Moored urn problems require more darn solutions.”

The year is 1541 and the French have just begun colonization in North America. Young Jean-Luc is in his newly crafted home when suddenly his friend Jean-Pierre bursts through his front door. 'Jean Luc!' he exclaims. 'You weel nevar believe! I 'ave 'eard word of a bacon tree!'. Jean-Luc looks confused and scoffs 'Imposseeble! You cannot grow BaycON on a tree!'. 'Come! And I weel show you ze bacon tree!'. So Jean-Luc & Jean-Pierre set off down the river, with Jean-pierre providing direction to the enigmatic 'bacon tree'. Finally, they pulled over onto a small beach that lead to a large forest. 'Stay 'ere and watch ze canoe, and I weel bring ze bacon back from ze bacon tree!' said John-Pierre. Hours go by and John-Pierre hasn't returned. As night falls, and Jean-Luc is about to enter the forest to look for his friend, he hears a rustling in the nearby brush, to which Jean-Pierre stumbles out, bloody and with arrows through his legs and arms. 'Jean-Pierre! What 'appened!!' exclaimed Jean-luc. 'Turns out it was not a bacOn tree.....it was an 'AMBUSH!!!'

They were starving hungry, and finally, they see a tree in the distance draped in bacon.

“Look!” says one of the cowboys, “It’s a bacon tree – we’re saved!”.

He runs towards the tree but is suddenly shot down in a hail of bullets.

With his last dying breath he stutters:

“It’s-It’s-It’s not a bacon tree... it’s-it’s a ham bush!”

The insect police force was tracking one of these malaria-mosquitos, when the mosquito fled to a farm. First, she tried to hide in the house, until the farmer chased her away with a newspaper. She tried to hide in the barn with the horses, but the barn cat took a few swipes at the mosquito, and chased it from the barn.

Finally, the mosquito set eyes on sheep in the pasture.she decided all that thick wool would be the perfect place to hide from the insect police force.

The police force arrived shortly after. They first went to the house. No mosquito. They searched the horses. No mosquito. Finally, they got to the pasture with the sheep. After searching and searching, they could not find where the mosquito had hidden.

The mosquito was on the lamb.

Blatantly stolen from my Uncles Facebook page (link in comments):

Uncle: I'm proud of myself. Instead of goofing off this summer, I chose to go back to school and better myself. I enrolled in a course and have spent the past few weeks in intense study, finally passing the final exam today with a score of 100% - a score that I'm pretty sure they don't see too often. It's not often that I toot my own horn, but this time I think I really deserve it. Thank you to everyone who helped me achieve my goal!

Friend: Congratulations! What subject?

Uncle: It was Traffic School. Speeding ticket. The system wanted me to fail.

A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. John tried and tried to change the bird’s attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to clean up the bird’s vocabulary. Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even more rude. John, in desperation, threw up his hands, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he’d hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer. The parrot calmly stepped out onto John’s outstretched arms and said “I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I’m sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior.” John was stunned at the change in the bird’s attitude. As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird spoke up, and asked very softly : “May I ask what the turkey did?”

I'd like to thank my friend John for sending me this dumb joke

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

I couldn't help but think that the final confrontation between Thanos and Tony Stark would be the ultimate dad joke in the universe. Might not sound like much, but this is how that scene played out in my head.

Thanos (about to snap, after the scuffle with Tony) : I am... inevitable.

Tony : Hi inevitable, I'm Iron Man.

Daughter: Do you know what my favorite kind of bird is?

Me: Cockatiels? (my educated guess since we have two)

Daughter: No, it's an owl.

Me: Who?

Daughter: An owl.

Me: Who?

Daughter: AN OWL!

Me: Who? (while laughing)

Daughter: Daddy... (finally catches on, but not amused)

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

He loved his job. Driving a train had been his dream ever since he was a child. He loved to make the train go as fast as possible. Unfortunately, one day he was a little too reckless and caused a crash. He made it out, but a single person died. Well, needless to say, he went to court over this incident. He was found guilty, and was sentenced to death by electrocution. When the day of the execution came, he requested a single banana as his last meal. After eating the banana, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was flown, sparks flew, and smoke filled the air - but nothing happened. The man was perfectly fine.

Well, at the time, there was an old Bulgarian law that said a failed execution was a sign of divine intervention, so the man was allowed to go free. Somehow, he managed to get his old job back driving the train. Having not learned his lesson at all, he went right back to driving the train with reckless abandon. Once again, he caused a train to crash, this time killing two people. The trial went much the same as the first, resulting in a sentence of execution.

For his final meal, the man requested two bananas. After eating the bananas, he was strapped into the electric chair. The switch was thrown, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was once again unharmed. Well, this of course meant that he was free to go. And once again, he somehow managed to get his old job back.

To what should have been the surprise of no one, he crashed yet another train and killed three people. And so he once again found himself being sentenced to death. On the day of his execution, he requested his final meal: three bananas. "You know what? No," said the executioner. "I've had it with you and your stupid bananas and walking out of here unharmed. I'm not giving you a thing to eat; we're strapping you in and doing this now."

Well, it was against protocol, but the man was strapped in to the electric chair without a last meal. The switch was pulled, sparks flew, smoke filled the room - and the man was still unharmed. The executioner was speechless. The man looked at the executioner and said, "Oh, the bananas had nothing to do with it. I'm just a bad conductor."