Slow Hand Puns

Walked into the gym locker room yesterday and some guy was half-jokingly ranting about smelly dudes in the gym to the guys around him. I'm just doing my thing, getting dressed, putting on deodorant when the guy notices me.

Guy: See, this guy gets it. Thank you for actually using deodorant.

Me: No sweat.

After he explodes his hand I look down at my still clenched fist. I slowly raise it near my ear confused and shake it. I then explode it in my face almost knocking me off me feet. I look at him sternly and say, "You could have killed me."

In the version they're doing, the bass section plays a bit at the start, then just sits there til the final part of the last movement. So, they decide to leave the concert and go out for drinks.

While at the bar down the street, they meet a European nobleman, and they become good friends. Unfortunately, the guy had been gorging himself on crappy bar food, and he quickly falls into a food coma.

One of the basses drunkenly checks his watch and says, "crap! We're not going to get back on stage in time!" As they're sprinting back, one of them says, "actually, I thought this would happen, so I tied some of the pages of the conductor's score together - that way, he'll have to slow the tempo way down with his right hand while undoes the knots with his left!"

And so they get back just in time to finish the Symphony, and the audience is none the wiser. The conductor, however, was furious.

After all, they'd left him at the bottom of the 9th, with the score tied, while the basses were loaded, and the Count was full.

There isn’t another soul on the street.

Suddenly, from out of the gloom, comes an ominous bump...bump…bump.

He looks behind him and spots a furtive, shadowy thing coming down the street after him.

Unnerved, he picks up his pace, finally breaking into a panicked run.

He looks behind him again, and the shadow is closer.

Bump…bump…bump.

The glow of a streetlight illuminates the shadow momentarily, and, to the man’s horror, it is a coffin, bumping down the sidewalk.

He quickens his pace, running as fast as he can go, but the coffin only pursues more quickly.

BUMP…BUMP…BUMP!

He reaches his house, fumbles frantically for his keys, and slips in the door just as the coffin reaches his front steps.

He slams the door and leans against it, catching his breath.

Bump…bump…bump.

There is a moment’s silence, and the man wonders if he dares to breathe.

Suddenly…. Bump…bump…bump…Bump…

BUMP! BUMP!

BUMPBUMPBUMPCRAAAAASH!!!!

He rebounds away as the door breaks off its hinges.

Scrambling to his feet, he charges up the stairs, and the coffin races after.

BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!

Terrified, he backs into a corner and starts throwing everything within reach at the coffin — a handful of papers, a vase, a box of crackers, a lamp — but the coffin keeps coming!

BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP INCHESFROMHISFACE, and nothing seems to slow it down!

His hands fall upon a bottle of cough syrup, and he throws that at the coffin, too!

The coffin stops.

The food is good but the service is slow. They're always short handed.

So, I'm at the counter in a liquor store, where I see that the cashier is wearing a mock Sons of Anarchy shirt that says, "Sloths of Anarchy" and has a sloth as the logo. As he's ringing me up, I'm trying to think of the perfect way to compliment his shirt. AHA! THIS WILL BE PERFECT

He hands me my receipt and I say, "Hey man, I like the shirt" falling for my trap he replies, "Oh thanks dude, do you watch the show?" My genius reply:

"Yeah I did, but it was kinda slow"

He doesn't even notice and continues to ask if I watched the whole thing. Maybe the world isn't ready for my dad jokes.

Trying to make it to the theater on time for a show, with my 12 year old daughter next to me, stuck behind a very slow-moving Cadillac Escalade. Suddenly I throw up some gang symbols and scream "Yo, move it, Escalade, befo things get... Escaladed!"

Daughter goes "omigod" and buries her face in her hands.

An old farmer brightened up my otherwise very slow day at work this morning. Me: G'day do you need a hand Old Guy: It would be useful but I already have two

Slow start:

So I was combining two hand sanitizer bottles while waiting on some computer function to complete, one was a scented and dyed blue while the other was regular clear handbleach. In the end I have a bottle of half clear half blue.

So I make wide panic eyes, hold up the bottle for my coworker to see and tell him "Oh shit, %coworker℅ I really blew it this time"

3/4 techs approve this dadjoke

I do logistics for a small distributing company. A container of calendars came in and the warehouse guys were hustling to get it empty. I walked out of my office and said "Hey guys slow down. Y'all have a lot of time on your hands."

From the Wee Free Men, page 5:

"But sometimes her father insisted that there had been Achings (or Akins, or Archens, or Akens, or Akenns - spelling had been optional) mentioned in old documents about the area for hundreds and hundreds of years. They had these hills in their bones, he said, and they'd always been shepherds. Tiffany felt quite proud of this, in an odd way, because it might also be nice to be proud of the fact that your ancestors moved around a bit, too, or occasionally tried new things. But you've got to be proud of something. And for as long as she could remember she'd heard her father, an otherwise quiet, slow man, make the Joke, the one that must have been handed down from Aching to Aching for hundreds of years. He'd say, 'Another day of work and I'm still Aching', or 'I get up Aching and I go to bed Aching', or even 'I'm Aching all over'. They weren't particularly funny after about the third time, but she'd miss it if he didn't say at least one of them every week. They didn't have to be funny, they were father jokes. Anyway, however they were spelled, all her ancestors had been Aching to stay, not Aching to leave."

One car was being operated by a small Mexican woman and the other was filled with four guys dressed up in white shirts, gray slacks and ties. Two of the guys were holding bibles in their hands so we could only assume that the group of dressed up gents were Mormons.

My dad slowed down and said: "Well, it seems to be that they let jesus take the wheel."

edit: grammar