Race record Puns

There was a race horse named Pat, who was one of the greatest race horses to ever live. He set records that were near impossible to beat. After a long time of racing, he retired to an old stable with some old friends. They were very happy that he retired there to stay with him, and congratulated him on all of his records that he set.

Once Pat retired, he started keeping track of all the up and coming horses that were winning a lot. There was a race horse named Charlie that was doing really great and winning all his races. Pat saw this horse and watched him race. Charlie started to break all of Pat’s records and Pat was a little upset with this.

After a while, Charlie decided to retire after an extremely successful career in racing. By chance, Charlie decided to retire at the same stable that Pat retired in. When Charlie entered the stable, everyone went up to him to congratulate him on his records and wins. Pat went up to Charlie and said, “Hey Charlie congratulations on all of your wins! You broke a lot of my records and I was very impressed.” Charlie responds, “go away old man, I’m better than you ever were.” Pat was blown away by his response. He galloped away from Charlie with defeat.

After a while of thinking, Pat decides to challenge Charlie to a race. Charlie agreed to it and wanted to race right away. He said “We will race to the tree over there and turn around and come back and whoever gets there first will be the winner.” Pat was still healthy but he needed a few weeks to get his legs back into shape for the race. Charlie gives Pat 2 weeks to get ready.

After 2 weeks pass, they are ready to race. “Hey Pat, before we race I want to warn you that I win my races by passing them by the end. So don’t get all cocky and think you are going to win.” Charlie says. Pat thanks him for the warning and they start getting set to race.

The gun sounds and they are off to race. Pat starts out in front, and nears the finish. Out of know where, Charlie zooms ahead of Pat and wins the race.

Pat was very disappointed in his loss, but congratulated Charlie anyways. A dog comes up to them and says, “Wow, that was a fantastic race! Neither of you should be upset with that. You both were so great!” Charlie looks to Pat and Pat looks to Charlie. They are astonished. Charlie says, “Say that again! Say it again!” The dog says a little confused, “Well I just said that you both were so great out there.” Pat says, “Charlie! It’s a talking dog!”

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

I've always preferred the 100m to the 200m

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten