Related rights Puns

And the thing about eyes, sight, and light is that nobody really knows what colour anything is.

What we think of as colour is actually light reflecting off a surface in the visible light spectrum- nothing is inherently colourful on its own. So everything we see is actually in our own heads. Transfered light is reflecting off objects, into our eyes and being read/perceived by the brain as 'colour'.

It's all a pigment of our imagination.

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

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

We were explaining the word depth and how it relates to the word of deep.

Kid can't say the word depth. So he said:"the entire univuse is pretty Def right dad?!"

I chimed in immediately: "I'm sure it is kiddo universe due to the too few ears in it."

So I want to change my Xbox username, but since it costs money, I want to get it right (not that I'm broke, but I think that it's stupid that it charges you). My name is Clayton, so I think a Clayton-Related pun for the username would be cool.

Examples: ClaytonicBond, ClaytonianRhapsody, etc.

However, other creative usernames are also appreciated.

Make an entire comment chain of puns somehow relating to what's on your right. The person who replies automatically joins your game. They must reply with a pun that is related to the same thing. Whoever makes the most puns is the winner. They must be real puns, not just sentences that you say are puns. C'mon, reddit. You can do this. You're like, the website for puns. If I get enough puns, I will draw the pun of the first person to post a pun here (ex. if the first person says, "Well now I'm drawing a blanket," I would draw someone drawing a blanket.) Have fun brahs!

She's related to me, my wife, and her 2 sisters.

Anyway the joke I made tonight-

My in-laws had to the 2 older girls while we were at the hospital, and got home tonight. I looked down and realized I had a hole in one of my socks, and said "guess it's time to throw this one away."

My father in law said, "yeah. I've been getting holes in my socks and have been throwing them away, too."

I said, "Left and right?"

Jim was working hard sawing wood. It was hot, his hands slippery with sweat and the saw slipped from his fingers and cut off all of his toes. No ambulences were available so he called a toe truck, but he got there too late. His toes could no longer be reattached. He could not walk right, so he could not work. He got workers comp but it wasn't enough. Worst of all, his wife was lack toes intolerant. She filed for separation. He looked online for solutions to his problems and found a post telling him where he may find an answer. It said "Go to the forest late at night and wait in the glade. There you will find the Great Toed. He is wise in these matters." Having nothing to lose he followed the instructions and reached the glade spoken of. There was a line drawn that said "wait here." And wait he did for over an hour, and just as he was about to leave, a many toed toad toed the other side of the line with a bag in tow. "Ask your question," it said in a raspy voice. So Jim related his tale of toe woes. After listening the many toed toad replied "Have you tried the supermarket?" Jim wondered how a supermarket would help but decided to give it a try. He went the next morning and walked down aisle after aisle and then he found it: The supermarket was giving away free toes. Elated, he grabbed as many bags of them as he could and checked each one. He found enough that fit, but needed to attach them. He went back to the glade for help getting the new toes attached, and the toad was happy to help. He helped attach the new toes and jim ran off (little did Jim know that the toad croaked soon after) He was able to walk normal again, his wife came back, he got his job back and everyone lived happily ever after.

Oh the punch line? It's over there by the table.

My friend (L) and I (B) ended up in a pun war. She had to wake up super early to catch a flight, and this was at about one in the morning:

L: I should definitely set my alarm to 'cow' o.O

B: Haha, do it. Nothing like waking up to cows in the 'moo'rning.

L: Oh my gosh. Absolutely not.

B: Hey, but it would be so 'udder'ly hilarious!

L: I just got stabbed to death by a pun.

B: I'm just trying to 'milk' it for all it's worth...

L: If I did that, I'm not sure I'd wake up in a happy 'moo'od.

B: Just drink some 'calf'inated coffee, and you'll be fine.

L: I'd be laughing 'stock' of the town... Cows don't have a sense of humor.

B: Bull!

L: I'll just use my cowculator do determine how much sleep I'm actually going to get tonight...

B: You could wake up a little later, but you'd have to 'hoof' it to the airport.

L: Hope the weather is good, so my plane isn't 'ground'ed 'beef'.

B: That's stretching it... You should make more of an 'heifer't to come up with good puns.

L: I know when I'm getting creamed.

B: It's hard to 'steer' you in the right direction, because you keep changing topics.

L: That's udderly ridiculous. I'm just trying to mooove on.

B: And I just keep churning 'em out...

L: No, you're just spinning your 'veal's.

B: That's one of the best ones I've herd all night!

L: I thought I might've butchered it...

B: PETA might have a beef with you because of it, though...

L: Well done, well done...

B: I don't think they care leather or not you personally slaughtered it, too.

L: See now, I wish you'd stop 'grilling' me about the bad puns... You should 'patty' yourself on the back. I 'dairy' you to come up with more.

B: Well, you can certainly steak a claim for being able to hold your own...

L: I'm a natural 'barn' comedian. However, I really should quit 'yak'king and go to bed. :p

B: Okay, that's not cows... You lose. You 'cud' have done a lot better.

L: The grass is greener on the other side, okay? Also, cows live in barns, and yaks are related to cows.

B: It was still quite a stretch... Don't have a cow about it.

L: Ha anymoo. Goodnight! Also, don't die of mad cow disease.

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

My sister posted about loving my little ponies, and we got on the topic of rainbow horse poop jokes. My dad just pops in with this:

Dad - I can't think of one right now. I do, however, have a poem that is somewhat related: (first assume standard high-class poetry recitation position; head high, chest out, hands clasped behind back, heels together, toes @ 180 degrees, knees slightly bent): "In days of old, when knights were bold, and toilets weren't invented; they left their load beside the road, and went away contented."

A few days ago, I was with family and Aunt #1 was showing me a book about antique stamps for collectors and the many thousands of dollars some of them cost. When she talked about her stamp collection, I said "That's a sticky habit."

Aunt #2 groaned and said, "What are you? Uncle R (her husband)?"

A few minutes later, I told her, "It's okay. You can address your resentment of stamp-related puns to me. I'm not afraid. [walking to edge of the room] I can take a licking right here in this corner if I have to! C'mon, go postal on me!"

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

So, we were having dinner and talking about Pi day and I told them "everything relates to the circle of life", my daughter said "Dad you are not funny" and my wife said "you have become like my dad"

I think that was the ultimate badge of a dadjoker, right?

Right now I am currently employed at Burger King. As of now, my duties are pretty strictly related to me working the drive-thru because my store is under construction. So the customer comes to the window and I say, "Sir, that is going to be 5.42". In which he replied, "Gee, I had no idea it was that late! where has the time gone."