Shared care Puns

Me: Can we change the subject?

Her: Ok. More chores around the house need to be done by you.

cuz he sell fish.

Hope this is the right sub but this is something I need to share. Do not eat peanuts right now, if you do examine them carefully. There has been a fungus that has infected most of the peanut crops in north America. From the outside they look fine but if you bite into the nut you may notice a small black center. By then it's too late. The black center at early stages can cause digestive issues but if the entire nut is black it can cause failure of the nervous system and respiratory complications. There are pests that have laid their eggs in these plants and tiny microorganisms have developed in these plants. They leech into the fruit causing the black color. Ingestion can cause all sorts of troubles from diarrhea to death. These creatures are fatal. That's why you should always watch out for the creature from the black legume.

The approval rating of dad jokes in my household has fallen farther and harder than Hans off Nakatomi in my household of late. Not to be a big baby, but it's been really disheartening for me.

We all know our dad jokes can get tiring and annoying; that's part of the point. True masters carefully toe the line between just enough and too much, and to great effect. We do it because we genuinely want to bring joy to those around us with almost child-like mirth.

Not be able to share that with my family lately has been disappointing.

But coming to this sub warms my heart. So thank you to all of you here.

I am very grateful. #obligatoryset-up;)

Then, I saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow.

It was addressed, 'Dad'.

With the worst premonition, I opened the envelope and read the letter, with trembling hands:

"Dear, Dad.

It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you.

I had to elope with my new girlfriend, because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you.

I've been finding real passion with Stacy.

She is so nice, but I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing's, tattoos, her tight motorcycle clothes and because she is so much older than I am.

But it's not only the passion, Dad.

She's pregnant.

Stacy said that we will be very happy.

She owns a trailer in the woods, and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter.

We share a dream of having many more children.

Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone.

We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people in the commune for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want.

In the meantime, we'll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so that Stacy can get better.

She sure deserves it!

Don't worry Dad, I'm 15, and I know how to take care of myself.

Someday, I'm sure we'll be back to visit so you can get to know your many grandchildren.

Love, your son, Joshua.

P.S. Dad, none of the above is true.

I'm over at Jason's house.

I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than the school report that's on the kitchen table.

Call when it is safe for me to come home!"

Last time I went home, dad had a friend over who shared with us the struggles he now encountered with providing daily basic care for his own aging, terminally-ill father.

"You just can't imagine right now," he assured me, "what it's like to wipe your own father's ass after helping him off the toilet."

"Yeah, well I'm sure you're right," I responded, "but I certainly can imagine it's pretty awkward. He's all bent over. You're back there trying to clean him up and pretend everything's normal, of course he's gonna be fine, when suddenly your eyes meet. With his voice filled with pride, he says, "that's a real good wipe, son."

My dad and his friend laughed their asses off.

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

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

My wife and I just had a much needed, long talk about life, family, and what we needed to do in the future.

In a nutshell, she had been feeling alone and uncared for awhile because I've been so busy at my jobs and helping take care of our newborn that he hasn't felt like she has been able to share a lot emotionally with me.

She cried. I cried. Everything ended on a really positive note. Great talk.

But at the very end, we were hugging and rocking back and forth and I said, "Don't worry babe, I've got your back." I then proceeded to grab her back with my hands and hold it tight.

Eyes were rolled.

Friend: I have a lot of jokes about unemployed people.

Me: Care to share?

Friend: I don't know. None of them really work.