Once a Year, Every Year Puns

So the old man approaches the polling official and ask if his wife already voted. They ask for her full name and sure enough, she had already voted. He said Oh darn! She died 6 years ago but she keeps voting on every election and I was hoping to see her once again.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

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

Son: "woah, what the hell, that's a walking, knocking, talking sink, like what is that, can they even do that?"

Father: "of course they can, son. For centuries. Millennia even. They lay dormant for years at a time and then reanimate every once in a while to go somewhere new. "

Son: " I literally had no idea, that's insane, Dad."

Father: "pretty crazy, right? Now let that sink in."

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

A dog sleeps about 20 hours a day.

He has his food prepared for him.

He can eat whenever he wants, 24/7/365.

His meals are provided at no cost to him.

By the way he does not need to pay for medical insurance.

He visits the doctor once a year for his checkup, and again during the year if any medical needs arise. For this he pays nothing and nothing is required of him.

He lives in a nice neighborhood in a house that is much larger than he needs, but he is not required to do any upkeep.

If he makes a mess, someone else cleans it up.

He has his choice of luxurious places to sleep.

He receives these accommodations absolutely free.

He is living like a King, and has absolutely no expenses whatsoever.

All of his costs are picked up by others who go out and earn a living every day.

I was just thinking about all this, and suddenly it hit me like a brick in the head.......

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A dog is like a “POLITICIAN”

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

I'm a dad and I like telling it, so I guess that's qualification enough. I heard this joke about 26 years ago, and I still laugh at it. Slightly long, so don't hate me.

A guy that lives alone decided that he wanted to get a pet. He went to a pet store in his city to see what was available. The man tells the associate at the store that he wants a pet, but he doesn't want an "ordinary" pet like a cat or dog, he wants something unique. The associate asks the man if he by chance has a swimming pool at his house, and the man replies that he indeed does have a pool. The associate says, "Great! I've got just the pet for you. Actually it is two pets -- two beautiful porpoises. And these aren't ordinary porpoises, either. They will never die, but there is one small catch. To keep them alive, once a year at noon on July 1, you have to feed each one of them an immature sea gull, before the birds have learned to fly." The associate tells the man that he shouldn't worry about the annual feeding, though, because the associate will always make sure he has two birds available for the man every year on July 1.

The man buys the pets, fills his swimming pool with salt water, and really enjoys the companionship of the porpoises throughout the year. On June 30, the man calls the pet store to make sure the two birds are available, and sure enough they are. The next day, he goes to the pet store at 10 a.m. to purchase the birds, and while he is inside the store he hears a lot of commotion coming from just outside the store. He goes to the front of the store to see what's going on outside, and he finds that there is a huge, ferocious lion trying to get into the store through the front door. Luckily, the door swings outward from the store, so the lion can't get it open. The police call the store associate to tell him what has happened. The main attraction (the lion) from the state zoo just up the road from the store had escaped, and the lion could sense all the small animals that were inside the pet store, so he was trying to get into the store to eat them. The police are waiting for the zoo's lion tamer to show up and get the animal back into captivity.

Meanwhile, the man who was at the store to buy the birds to feed to his pets was getting really anxious. He was trapped inside the store, there was no other exit, and the time was quickly approaching noon. The associate reminded the man that he absolutely had to feed his pets at precisely noon, otherwise th

I'm out of bed earler than usual. Wife comes in and we discuss why. She walks away to get ready for work

me "are you gonna make me breakfast?"

> Pfffft. It's leap day, not jump-to-conclusions day.

Anyone else got any once-every-four-years dad jokes? I just wanna wear em out tonight after everyone gets home.

One day a farmer's mare birthed two foals. One was named Hobbin, and the other Noggin. The two horses grew up and loved to race each other. One day the farmer noticed the two racing each other around the pasture and thought to himself, "Wow! These horses are quick!" So the next day he entered them into a local derby. As the race was about to start, the horses were rearing and snorting to get let out of the gate. As soon as the gates swung open, both horses immediately bolted to the front of the race as the announcer was going wild, "It's Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, and Hobbin wins by a nose!" Excited by the win, the farmer then enters them into the Kentucky Derby. Once again, as soon as the gates open, both horses fly to the front of the race and it's Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin and again, Hobbin wins by a nose. This continues in every race until Hobbin has won the Triple Crown. By this point the farmer is beginning to realize just how fast these horses are, so he decides to enter them into a NASCAR race and again, it's Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin and again, Hobbin wins by a nose. This pattern continues until Hobbin wins the Sprint Cup. Still believing that he can push these horses further, he enters them both into an F1 Grand Prix. Unbelievably, against some of most well-engineered machines on Earth, as soon as the race started it was Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin and again, Hobbin wins by a nose. Hobbin won so often that he was named the World Drivers' Champion. After that the farmer decided that the horses had done it, they'd won the most prestigious races in the world; they had earned their retirement. Five years later, as the two horses were grazing in their pasture, Noggin walked up to Hobbin and said, "Hey, you know, you won all of those races we were in. Do you think that we could race around the pasture, and you could just let me win one race?" "Okay, I'll do that for you" Hobbin replied. So, just like the olden days, the two horses were off, and ever the same, it was Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, Hobbin-Noggin, Noggin-Hobbin, and again, Hobbin beats Noggin by a nose. The old farm dog, watching from the farmhouse's front porch, walks over and asks Hobbin, "Hey, why'd you do that? You said you'd let him win, the race was just for fun; it meant nothing." To which Hobbin responded, "WOW. Would you look at that? A t

I only got to see my grandpa on my mom's side about once a year usually growing up, but there was always one common factor of each visit.

At some point during the catching up conversations, Pa (what we called him) would get a real dejected look on his face. Then he'd face my mom:

"Oh Vicky... guess who died?"-Pa

"Oh no... Who?"-Mom

"Elvis." -Pa

He'd then giggle, finger fun, and slap his thigh. Every. Single. Year.

I have a feeling he used that one for the better part of 40 years.

My grandfather tells me this every year.

"My father once caught a turtle so he could make turtle soup that night. He put the turtle in a box to bring it home. He first stopped at the bar to see his buddies. His one buddy asks, 'Hey what's in the box?' He replies, 'I caught a turtle, a big one too.' He opens the box to show the turtle and asks his buddy what he thinks. His friend takes one look and says, 'That isn't a turtle.' My father caught a damn rock."