Open class Puns

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.”

Today I took a class out onto the oval to investigate the strength of radio signals in different situations. For one, we wrapped a radio in foil and as I was unwrapping it a student commented that they hoped there was food inside.

I finished opening it and said 'oh man, it's a radio - mum must really hate me' to which another student replied 'I know, it's not even a ham radio...'

Was so proud!

Son: Dad! I learned an awesome new trick at school in science class. Can I borrow your tie?

Dad: Let's see it.

Son: if we fold your tie in half, and roll the fat end toward the middle, and the thin end toward the middle, we have two rolls - one big and one small, both the same length, right?

Well, if I hold up the tie from the middle, and let go of both sides at the same time, which side will unroll first?

Dad: I have no idea.

Son (drops both ends, which open at the same time):

It's a tie, dad.

Today's lesson was on taking averages. I opened with this:

Mr. C: Last year, I had a student who said, "Mr. C, you're so average!" Can you guess what happened to him, Student 1?

Student 1: You gave him more homework?

Mr. C: I gave him twice as much homework! The next day, he comes into class and says "Mr. C, you're so average!" Guess what happened to him next, Student 2.

Student 2: Uh...even more homework?

Mr. C: Bingo! I gave him ten times as much homework. Finally the next day he comes in and says "Mr. C, you're so mean!"

So, I'm a Spanish professor, and I gave a final exam this morning. One of the last parts was that students had to write a paragraph using reflexive verbs in which they describe their daily routine. Since the class only had nine students in it, I told them that if they wanted to wait, I would grade their exams for them and tell them their class grade.

It was an open-book final exam (11 pages long), so I was in my office, and a graduating senior finished first and gave me her exam. When I got to her paragraph, I saw that she had written in Spanish that every day she woke up, got up, took a shower, got dressed, brushed her teeth, ate breakfast, and then she and her friend Emmy went horseback riding. Now, I knew that she didn't go horseback riding, ever, but that it was vocabulary from the previous chapter. The following conversation ensued:

Me: Horseback riding? Really?
Her: Yep!
Me: Every day?
Her: Yep!
Me: Every single day?
Her: Sí, Señor.
Me: I guess you could call it a stable routine then.

This one was about two years ago, but it was one of my favorite memories of work due to the reaction it got. There's a little bit of a setup/backstory for this.

I landed a job at the local Sam's Club before it opened, so I, along with the other associates, was to attend a credit training event at a very nice bank in town.

There were probably 30 or 40 in the class and most of us knew each other pretty well because we had spent the past few weeks 'blitzing,' or selling Sam's Club memberships at Walmarts in the area.

Anyway, the credit guy (his name fails me) was giving a powerpoint presentation on the ins and outs of the Sam's credit accounts. At one point, he said that for pre-approved members, a piece of paper called a 'chit' will print out. There were a few chuckles and he smiled and said "yeah, I know," and carried on.

Then I raised my hand.

He called on me, and I began: "So if a church with a business membership is pre-approved, who's responsible for applying? A church accountant or one of the clergy or something?"

"Yes, whoever owns the account itself."

"Would that be considered a 'holy chit?'"

The class erupted in laughter and one associate even left the room because she was laughing so hard. I saw one of the managers in class with us had his head buried in his arms laughing to the point of tears.

Probably my finest moment.

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

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.

He's normally filled with dad jokes, but today was a bit more than usual.

Physics problem about horse pulling cart

Teacher stands up on table and makes horse noises

Class laughs

Teacher: What? I'm a horse! It's a bit of a long tale!

Class laughs

Teacher: but, let's stop horsing around and get to the mane point!

Student: You're on a roll today Mr. Teacher!

Teacher: No, I'm on a table!

Later on in class

Teacher: As you can see forces come in pairs! Pulls out a pear and opens it up revealing F and -F on each side

And then later on

Student: Hold on Mr. Teacher, I'll fix the calculations.

Teacher grabs onto desk

Teacher: When can I stop holding on?

Just a typical day in physics for me.

So my 11 year old daughter was having trouble opening a jar of grape jelly and asked for my help. I took it and got it open after a bit of a struggle, and said...."Wow, that lid was really JAMMED on there." I got a world class eye roll out of her.

I was in music class today and my teacher picked up a folder a pupil in the previous class had left behind. The folder was labelled 'French' and on top of it there was a book that said 'Speaking Book' (obviously referring to French Speaking practice).

My music teacher then opened the book and put it to his ear. With a confused look on his face he exclaimed: 'Well I can't hear anything!' Groaning from all the class then ensued.

I was working in the design studio with a bunch of other students. It's late and everyone is exhausted. A couple of the girls from my class start dancing and coming up with "new moves". Eventually they started giving their moves breakfast related names.

Girl 1: This is the scrambled eggs

Girl 2: And this one is called frying bacon.

Me: Wait, wait, wait... Can we open a bar and call it... The Breakfast Club?