Oh, Lady Be Good! Puns

So, there's this yellow toad wandering around in the forest kinda pissed off because he doesn't want to be yellow. Life would be easier if he were brown like the other toads.... He'd sure be less visible to predators for one thing. Anyway.... This yellow toad bumps into a fairy godmother. "Fairy godmother, please make me brown like the other toads" he begs her. "I'm hacked off being so visible to predators. The stress is like, killing me, you know?" "Okay" says the fairy godmother, who whips out her magic wand and goes: "Abracapokus! You're brown!" The toad looks down and sees that he is brown! Except..... for his weenie, which was still yellow. "Hang about lady," he says to the fairy godmother, "My pecker's still yellow!" "Yeah, well I don't do weenies," she says, "You'll have to go see the Wizard of Oz for that." So the toad thanks her and hops off on his way. There is also a purple bear wandering about the very same woods. As luck would have it, he encounters the very same fairy godmother (yes, okay, it's a coincidence, but it's true). "Fairy Godmother! You're just the person I need!" says the purple bear, "I can't pull any bearesses cos they don't want to be seen with a purple bear on account of the hunters. They can spot me from a mile off." Being a fairly nice fairy godmother, she takes out her magic wand. "Oh for goodness sake, what is the matter with you lot round here" she says and with that, she yells: "Pokuscadabra! You're brown!" The bear looks down and sees that he is, in fact, brown. Except for his goolies, which remain purple.. "Hold up sweetheart!" he says to the fairy Godmother, "My goolies are still purple!" "Yeah, well I don't do those goolie things," she replies, "You'll have to go see the Wizard of Oz for that." "Well that's just dandy, innit?" the bear replies, "How the hell do I find the Wizard of Oz?" "Easy," says the fairy godmother as she flew off saying......... "Just follow the yellow-prick toad !!"

Picture this.

A fancy Christmas dinner party at his new wife's opulent, sandstone estate house. Plates are being cleared from the lengthy, mahogony table that seats the fourteen well-to-do guests, the main course having just finished. All have feasted gloriously on our Christmas fare.

My Dad, playing the good host, picks up two bottles of wine, one white and one red, and proceeds to do a round of the table, chatting amiably with everyone as he circles. Those whose glasses are less than 90% full, he proceeds to top-up. I am sitting in the very centre of the long table, seated directly opposite a very well off lady in her early sixties, by the name of Margaret. My dad, having just topped off my glass, is now standing directly behind me.

This older woman, full of grace and charm, looks to my Dad and says, "Thank you so much for this glorious meal, John. It's been simply divine."

My Dad, "Not at all, Margaret, not at all. Could I charge your glass?"

Margaret, "Oh, no no, thank you. I've got the bottle in front of me!"

My Dad, quick of wit, and with a sneaky - yet charming - grin on his face, responds, "Ah, well, better that than a frontal lobotomy!"

I've never been more proud of him.

So I was in line at my college's sandwich shop. The man behind me was one of the workers in the school's small post office, and also happens to be my friend's dad. He laid down a pretty good dad joke.

Sandwich lady: Next? What kind of bread can I get for you? Me: Hi, thank you, I'll have a white wrap. Him: Oh, I'll give you a white rap, "Yo, yo, yo, beatbox noises"