A list of puns related to "Pack year"
You'd think it'd be gone off by now, but it's in mint condition
Pfizer vaccination on Friday night at a local CVS. The place was packed and there was an older couple there thanking everyone for getting vaccinated. When my wife and daughter got home they were telling me about how packed it was. My daughter mentioned the older couple and said that when they thanked her, they asked which shot she received. “Pfizer”, she said. The couple said, “Well we’re Moderna folks!” My daughter asked me why that mattered…. Well, I said… In 2 years, all of us Modera folks will have grown two heads and all of you Pfizer people will probably have four arms. My daughter then looks innocently at both my wife and I and said, “what about the people that got the Johnson & Johnson vaccine?” My wife and I completely lost it… we laughed so hard our stomachs hurt. My daughter started laughing too, but had no idea.
A man walks into the pharmacy with his 8-year old son.
They happen to walk by the condom display, and the boy asks, "What are these, Dad?"
To which the man matter-of-factly replies, "Those are called Condoms son. Men use them to have safe sex."
"Oh I see," replied the boy pensively. "Yes, I've heard of that in health class at school."
He looks over the display and picks up a package of 3 and asks, "Why are there 3 in this package?"
The dad replies, "Those are for high school boys, one For Friday, one for Saturday, and one for Sunday."
"Cool" says the boy. He notices a 6 pack and asks, "Then who are these for?"
"Those are for college men," the dad answers, "two For Friday, two for Saturday, and two for Sunday."
"WOW!" exclaimed the boy, "then who uses THESE?" he asks, picking up a 12 pack. With a sigh and a tear in his eye, the dad replies.
"Those are for married men, son. One for January, one for February, one for March..."
Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.
So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.
He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.
As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.
She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.
This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.
When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.
This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.
The two couldn't be happier!
They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.
One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.
She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.
She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.
A shallot, if you will.
A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.
They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.
The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.
Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.
Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.
He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.
One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.
The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.
She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to
... keep reading on reddit ➡My boss' 7 year old daughter came to work and ran up to me with this one:
"You're under arrest!" "For what?! You have no proof!" thinks to herself before running to get box packing tape "I have the security tape right here!"
👏
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
My younger brother is an ass, so is my dad to him. They annoy each other quite often, I think they like it. When my little bro (He was a teenager then) get angry he usually says to my dad "I will leave this house, and go to where none of you will never find, and I will never come back", my dad have many answers, like
I dont remember most of it, you can guess!
My brother usually go out and then forget about it, until one day he moved out, and comes back after a while, lol, of course! My awesome dad died 7 years ago, he was annoyingly humorous.
Allow me to regale you with a couple tales illustrating my late dad's sense of humor. Last names faked because I'm not that stupid.
.
(1). At a routine PTA meeting about me in my Georgia school, everyone found themselves packed into a hot and stuffy room waiting for the boredom to end. Shoulder to shoulder fun, can you picture it?
My dad lets one rip. It's loud, smelly, and echoes. The room falls silent as the fart invites itself unfavorably to the nostrils of those in attendance.
He turns to my mom and with his best shocked face says, "... Patty!"
I like to think he slept on the couch that night.
.
(2). During my old man's wait for us to arrive at the new home he had bought, he had to deal with ongoing construction and roughed it at a hotel for a few nights. He was a retired Master Chief Machinist's Mate, so cramped quarters reminded him of the sub's nuclear engine room. No biggie.
An interview comes up for a civilian nuclear power plant nearby, and before you know it my dad's sitting before these stuffy, serious, wrinkly old board members and managers, having his (mostly military) resume picked through.
"Well Mister Smith, we're impressed. Twenty two years is no small amount of time to dedicate to the service. But do you feel you're qualified to operate and audit a civilian fission power plant?"
My dad thinks on it for a second.
"Well no, sir, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."
He got the job immediately.
(For those needing the reference)
.
Thanks for caring to read. I miss him a lot and this subreddit always reminds me of his sense of dry, quick humor. Take care!
Pulling up to the grocery store with my 8.5 month pregnant wife, my mother, father and 12 year old nephew.
Wife "this place looks packed" Nephew "you look packed auntie"
Everyone laughs.
My dad helping me (sheltered 17yr old girl) move into my dorm freshman year of college, when I discover a box of condoms he packed in with my office supplies.
Me: Dad, what's this doing here?
Dad: Better safe than sorry, I want you to keep them just in case.
Me: (laughing) don't worry Dad, boys have cooties.
Dad: (serious) I know. That's what the condoms are for.
Mom: We got the two-pack of biscuits, so I gave one to my mother. Dad: Two-pack? He was shot in Las Vegas 15 years ago, honey.
An employee walks up and asks him if he needs any help. Dad responds with "Unless you're going to pack the stuff at home away for me, not really!" The employee lets him know that the best container is the dumpster. "If you haven't used it in a year and don't miss it, throw it away." Dad looks to his fiance and says, "Evan! All he does is show up for breaks, drink my beer and eat my food, and then leaves! He was gone all last year and I didn't miss him!"
I am Evan.
My Property II Professor is about 80 years old. Class ends at 7:30. Clock turns to 7:30 and we start packing up. He announces: "I'm going to let you out 45 minutes early today, we'll make it up next time."
He's done this every class now.
Please note that this site uses cookies to personalise content and adverts, to provide social media features, and to analyse web traffic. Click here for more information.