Silent Way Puns

Finally, she thought of a clever way to make her point.

When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors.

I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house.

I was gone only a minute and when I came out, I handed her a toothbrush.

I said, "When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway."

The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a slight limp...

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

The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.

Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.

Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.

And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.

The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.

The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.

The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.

"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.

"Why not?"

"He's a cycle path".

After a few hours of debate, no one was willing to concede, and it was decided that a vote must be held. Unfortunately, with so few friends present, it was clear that they would need to bring the vote to the greater public. The group decided that each friend would make a plea to the subreddit of their choice, and whoever received the most karma for it would win.

Adam, already undecided himself, decided to go to /r/AskReddit. He laid out the agreement, and asked that everyone vote one their favorite movie, and the one with the most votes he would use for the his friends. Unfortunately, as the votes were split in that sub, his highest post amounted to a mere 38 points.

Paul, a big proponent for the Toy Story franchise, posted to /r/nostalgia in the hopes that everyone who grew up with Toy Story would agree. Unfortunately, as there had been two sequels (with a third on the way) it wasn't exactly considered "nostalgia" and he got downvoted into oblivion.

Bill, who loved Monsters Inc., made his case using some trickery. Going to /r/news, he found a seemingly unrelated post, and made a top-level comment describing, in great detail, why Monsters Inc. was the greatest film of all time. The fact that the post was so out of context made everyone flock to it, and drew enough attention to new him over a thousand fake internet points.

Mike, who loved the Incredibles movies, decided to stay in his wheelhouse. Over the course of several hours, he created each of the family members from the Incredibles in Soulcaliber VI. Finally, he photoshopped the family together, and posted it to /r/gaming. Under normal circumstances this would have skyrocketed to the top, but the format was stale, and thus only received 20k karma. Still, Mike was confident in his victory.

While the other four friends came up with plans on how to maximize their karma gains, Chris sat silently. For hours he sat, making no posts, coming up with no original content. Finally, an hour before the deadline, he broke into his neighbor's house, stealing his copy of the Pixar movie "Up". He took a picture of his theft and posted it directly to /r/dadjokes with the title "STOLEN".

When the group got together the next day to see who got the most votes, everyone was in awe. Chris's post had over 40,000 points. "How did you know that would win?" "Easy," Chris replied. "Everyone knows stolen content on /r/dadjokes gets all the Up votes."

At work, there was a metal catering tray filled to the brim with cold water sittin' around for no reason so I asked the receptionist/coworker, who has said repeatedly that she just can't stand me, if I should dump it. She looked at me, smiled and said "If you can." I responded "without spilling it?" In a 'of course I'm not going to spill but dont rule it out' way. She said "Yes." Silently giving me good luck. Fortunately, I done did the deed and no brand new flooring was harmed. I then proceeded to google water jokes. After that, I walked up to her desk, glanced into her soul for the slightest moment while greeting, "Hey Sarah" , then I swiftly looked downwards as she asked, "Yeah?" I THEN told her this, "I don't know about you but unlike that cold water I just dumped". I pause, regain eye contact and finished with, "boiling water will be mist."

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

Dead silent on the way there for the majority of the ride. It was a very solemn trip, but then...

Dad: "You know, I had this great joke about Alzheimer's that my pops loved, but-- I just can't seem to remember it."

eyes roll/lightful chuckles ensue

Can always count on him to lighten the mood even in the darkest of times.

A few months ago we took a road trip to the more northern part of Washington, Friday Harbor. On our way, my father decided he needed to the bathroom. To which he said to momentarily our silent car. " I have to take a shit, can we hit the next rest stop?" (Everyone agrees as normal. Then about 45 seconds, to a minute later dad says this) "I don't get it, why is it called taking a shit? I'm leaving one!)

We're sitting near the entrance of the restaurant when another couple walks in and gets seated. They didn't close the door all the way, and an unpleasant breeze started rolling in. My SO got up and closed the door. As he does down, we have this exchange:

>Me: Thanks, I appreciate it.

>SO: Yeah, nobody likes a draft.

>Me: Well, nobody except the general.

He got silent and I could see the pain in his features.

My dad asked my mother to pour him another glass. She poured the wine the same way you would pour water into a bottle, but it is common knowledge that you must tilt the wine glass for a proper pour.

Me: "Aren't you supposed to pour it on an angle?"

Dad: "Why yes, how else would the wine come out?"

I nodded and silently wished I could be half the man he is one day.

I was in the car with my friends mom, on the way from the airport to go spend a week with my friend and his family in Utah. My friends dad was on speaker phone talking with my friends mom about her golf match the following day. The mom says, "It's an early match, at a place called Crater Springs." And the dad responds by asking, "Where is that, on the moon?" The car was silent until the dad and I started laughing hilariously. She got dad joked hard.

So on our way back home from a buisness trip with a coworker I bust this gem out

"I wonder where they store the wind after harvest" -me Coworker silently smiles and shakes head