So Many Ways Puns

He pasta way. We cannoli do so much. Theres nutelling what can happen next... His legacy will become a pizza history. Here today, gone tomato. I can only espress-so much grief, but lettuce romaine calm. How sad that he ran out of thyme. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There's just not mushroom left for italian chefs in this world... Sending olive my prayers to his family. His wife is really upset, cheese still not over it... You never sausage a tragic thing. Its such a shame good people die fusilli reasons. It was a farfalle from grace... My condolences for Roberto, who died in the spaghetto. May he rest in yeast🙏🏻❤️

Wow! Im so glad so many people laughed at this joke, I got so much happy feedback from everyone lol thank u sm for all the rewards and upvotes, my week couldnt get better!😁

The teacher asks the class, “ there are five birds on a power line, and you shoot two of them, how many are left?”

Johnny replies, “ none the rest flew away when they heard the shot.”

The teacher says, “ no three are left but I like the way you think.”

So then Johnny says, “ let me ask you a question. There are three women eating ice cream, one licking it, one sucking it, and one biting it, which ones married?”

The teacher says, “ the one sucking?”

Johnny says, “ no the one with the wedding ring but I like the way you think.”

My dad worked in construction for most of his life, and because he worked with his hands, he sacrificed many watches. But if you don't have a watch, how are you to tell time? My dad has a great sense of humor and is always thinking of new ways to do things to make them more practical or thinking of ways to change things to make them work better for him. So after spending way too much money on a heavy duty watch that inevitably broke on him, he came up with a better solution.

He used the working part of a clock and stuck it on the inside rim of his hat, so if he wanted to know what the time was, he just had to look up. Simple. And the way his hat was, you couldn't see the clock when looking at him unless you were underneath him and looking up.

And then came the funny part. Every time he was asked what time it was, he would look up at the sun, scan the horizon, pretend to do a math equation in his head, and tell them the exact time down to the minute. I've witnessed him doing this a few times but never gave it away. The look of surprise and confusion this gave people was priceless.

My dad had done other funny things like this, but this was by far the funniest.

WORKING ON A JOB

My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned I just couldn’t concentrate. . Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the axe. . After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn’t suited for it. The job was only so-so anyhow. . Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was exhausting. . I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn’t cut it. . I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard. . My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn’t note worthy. . I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn’t have any patience. . Next was a job in a shoe factory; but it just wasn’t the right fit. . I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn’t live on my net income. . I thought about becoming a witch, so I tried that for a spell. . I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining. . After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian, until I realized there was no future in it. . My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit, because it was always the same old grind.

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

A couple were watching the news.

"Two Brazilian men die in a skydiving accident," said the newscaster.

The blonde starts crying to her husband, sobbing... "That's horrible!!! So many men dying that way!"

Confused, he says, "Yes dear, it is sad, but they were skydiving, and there is always that risk involved."

After a few minutes, the blonde, still sobbing, says, "How many is a Brazilian?"

The work of Steven Wright, he's the famous Erudite (comic) scientist who once said: "I woke up one morning, and all of my stuff had been stolen and replaced by exact duplicates."

1   - I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

2   - Borrow money from pessimists -- they don't expect it back.

3   - Half the people you know are below average.

4   - 99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

6   - A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good.

7   - A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

8   - If you want the rainbow, you have got to put up with the rain.

9   - All those who believe in psychokinesis, raise my hand.

10 - The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

11 - I almost had a psychic girlfriend, ...... But she left me before we met.

12 - OK, so what's the speed of dark?

13 - How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?

14 - If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

15 - Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

16 - When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

17 - Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

18 - Hard work pays off in the future; laziness pays off now.

19 - I intend to live forever... So far, so good.

21 - Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

22 - What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

23 - My mechanic told me, "I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder."

24 - Why do psychics have to ask you for your name.

25 - If at first, you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.

26 - A conclusion is a place where you got tired of thinking.

27 - Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

28 - The hardness of the butter is proportional to the softness of the bread.

29 - To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.

30 - The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

31 - The sooner you fall behind, the more time you'll have to catch up.

32 - The colder the x-ray table, the more of your body is required to be on it.

33 - Everyone has a photographic memory; some just don't have film.

34 - If at first, you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

35 - If your car could travel at the speed of light, would your headlights work?

It was my son's birthday, and we were doing a Thomas the Tank Engine theme. Went to the party supplies shop, and one of the things we got for the party was a helium balloon with Thomas on it. Gave it to him, told him to hold on to it, otherwise it would float up into the sky, all the way to the moon as Peppa Pig phrases it.

Anyway, I'm looking around and I notice something weird... there are Transformers helium balloons, Peppa Pig helium balloons, Barbie helium balloons, Thomas of course, various superheroes... but I notice the complete absence of Elsa and Anna on these balloons. But Frozen must be the most popular theme ever for girl's birthday parties, I would have thought. So why no Frozen helium balloons?

I asked at the counter, and they told me that they used to have them, but they got too many complaints. Apparently every time a parent gave the balloon to a kid, she'd just let it go...

"Greetings, comrade." says the spy, but before he could finish his sentence, the Russian says, "I think you are American spy."

The spy is alarmed, but being a skilled, trained, spy, he says, "That is not true! I am the proudest Soviet there is! I can sing the anthem more beautifully than any other man in the country!"

He then proceeds to sing the Soviet anthem, so melodically and beautifully, that everybody in the bar cheers.

"Very good, very good!" says the politician. "But I still think you are spy."

The man continues to keep his cool.

"I am a historian! I can tell you everything about this glorious country!"

He then spends about two hours recounting the Revolution, the Great Patriotic War, about how superior to the Russia is in terms of technology compared to America and makes a great argument about how communism is beneficial to society.

"Amazing! You are skilled!" says the politician.

The spy smirks.

"But I still think you American spy."

The spy is getting frustrated, but still unfazed.

He replies, "I am good drinker, a true Russian! Let us drink, and see who can come out top!"

The bar turns its attention to the politician and the spy, who are now in a drinking contest.

The bartender serves drink after drink of vodka.

After about an hour of drinking, the politician nearly passes out, unable to hold as much liquor as the spy, to a resounding cheer amongst the bar.

In the midst of the cheering, the Russian politician gets up, smiling, and in a slurred speech, repeats, "You are good, you are good... but I still think you are spy."

The American spy, piss drunk, loses his skill and gives up.

"Okay, you got me. I am an American. But what made you think that way, after all this time?"

The Russian politician replies, "There aren't many black people in Russia."

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

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

Many years ago,  Red Skelton  told the following joke using his inebriate character, Willie Lump Lump.

Willie explained to the young lady, “I keep a mongoose in my coat pocket.   That way, when I go home after drinking, and there are snakes all over the lawn of my yard, I let the mongoose loose and he kills them all, so it’s safe for me to enter the house.”

The young woman sadly tried to explain, “I’ve got news for you, Mr. Lump Lump, those snakes are imaginary!”

Willie Lump Lump replied, “I’ve got news for  you, so is the mongoose!”

http://red-skelton.info/articles/jokes/willie-lump-lump-and-the-mongoose/

One of the classic  Abbott and Costello  routines, where Bud Abbott takes advantage of a common math mistake that we all make to fleece his pal, Lou Costello, out of all of his money.  The skit ends with a simple ‘read my mind’ routine that takes Lou’s last remaining bill.  This routine was done  many  times, both in the movies and their radio show.

Bud Abbott: Do me a favor, loan me $50.
Lou Costello: Bud, I can’t. I can’t loan you $50.
Bud Abbott: Oh, yes, ya can.
Lou Costello: No, I can’t. All I got is $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, give me the $40 and you’ll owe me 10  
Lou Costello: Ok, I’ll owe you 10.
Bud Abbott: That’s right.
Lou Costello: How come I owe you 10?
Bud Abbott: How much did I ask for?
Lou Costello: 50
Bud Abbott: How much did you give me?
Lou Costello: 40.
Bud Abbott: So you owe me $10.
Lou Costello: That’s right.  [Pause] But you owe me 40.
Bud Abbott: Don’t change the subject.
Lou Costello: I’m not changing the subject; you’re trying to change my finances. Come on, Abbott give me my $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, there’s your $40, now give me the 10 you owe me.
Lou Costello: I’m paying you on account.
Bud Abbott: On account?
Lou Costello: On account I don’t know how I owe it to ya.
Bud Abbott: That’s the way you feel about it, that’s the last time I ask you for a loan of $50.
Lou Costello: But how can I loan ya $50, now. All I got is 30.
Bud Abbott: Well, give me the 30 and you’ll owe me 20.
Lou Costello: Ok. This is getting worse all the time. (Look at audience) First I owe him 10, now I owe him 20.
Bud Abbott: Well, why do you run yourself into debt?
Lou Costello: I’m not running in, you’re pushing me!1
Bud Abbott: I can’t help it if you can’t handle your finances. I do all right with my money.
Lou Costello: And you do all right with my money too.
Bud Abbott: Now I asked you for a loan of $50. You gave me 30, so you owe me 20. 20 and 30 is 50.
Lou Costello: No. No. No. 25 and 25 is 50.
Bud Abbott: All right, here’s your $30, now give me the 20 you owe me. Fine guy, won’t loan a pal $50.

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-

He said, "So I'll go first?"

I said sure.

I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.

He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.

He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.

Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.

After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.

I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"

He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."

(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)

There once was a lumberjack who was known as the hardest working lumberjack in the woods. Old Doolittle Dawort Deigh had a reputation and the complete respect of his coworkers for nearly 60 years. As we all know, tough lumberjacks can’t have sissy names. So many years ago, as was the tradition in the woods, old Doolittle Dawort Deigh was saddled with a nickname and had become known as simply Do Dah.

One tragic afternoon, old Do Dah was working his trade when a tree happened to fall the wrong way. Poor old Do Dah was squished flatter than a lumberjack flapjack. His coworkers, distraught at the thought of breaking the news of Do Dah’s death to his elderly wife, decided that perhaps if bad news was presented in a somewhat good way, it might soften the blow.

So that afternoon, old Do Dah’s fellow lumberjacks gathered on the stoop of the now widowed Mrs. Deigh and hesitantly knocked on the door. It took a few minutes for the old widow to make it across the room to the door. Finally as the door creaked open, the chorus of lumberjacks launched into a rousing rendition of

♪ Guess who died in the woods today ♫ Do Dah, Do Dah. ♫ Guess who died in the woods today Old Do Dah Deigh. ♬

It's either pictures of birds or things like these:

"Did you hear about the hipster who burnt his tongue? He ate pizza way before it was cool!"

"I heard they found that girl Amber who was missing." (There was an Amber alert in MD that day)

"Know what happens when you take "the" out of psychotherapist."

"If life gives you melons, You might be dyslexic."

"Six more weeks of winter isn't so bad when you consider the official first day of spring is seven weeks away."

"At first, I hated the speed bump they put in my front street... But I'm slowly getting over it."

"Why is it impossible for a horse to major in philosophy? You can't put DeCartes before the horse!"

"Why did the hipster burn his tongue? He drank gourmet coffee before it was cool."

"Q. How many Surrealists does it take to change a lightbulb?

A. Fish"

"I was going to take all of my old watches and hook them together to make a belt... But then I realized that would be a waist of time."

"Why all the fuss about the Redskins changing their name.

Just change the mascot to a Potato.

Then it's not only un-offensive but delicious."

"I think the NSA is spying on me. They're leavesdropping in my yard."

Bonus picture status

While in high school, Dana White met and fell in love with David Wong. After a few months the couple decided to get married. Dana insisted on getting married at sunset on the ocean on a yacht. The big day finally arrived and both families joined together to head out for the wedding. The captain of the yacht, checked the weather and saw a storm brewing. He advised the party it was not safe to travel out, but Dana and David both insisted they were going to get married on the ocean at sunset, so everyone loaded up and the boat departed. Sure enough just as the captain was performing the ceremony the storm hit, and the boat capsized killing everyone aboard. The next day the head of the the NTSB, Mr. Perry made this statement. It was a stormy night. So many Wong's and Whites. Neither would change their headstrong ways. The sea was in a rage. The captain turned the page. Their dying wasn't worth what they paid.

This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.

One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.

One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.

One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

When they arrived, a cab driver greeted them at the airport. "What should we do on our first day here," the father asked his son, excitedly. The driver interjected, "Well, if you're not natives, I'd suggest the roller coaster that teaches your or language." Confused, the father and son look at one another then back at their guide. "Trust me," he told them, "It's guaranteed or your money back." Having no plans and now both understandably intrigued, the pair agreed. When they arrived at the roller coaster, they were amazed to behold the giant steel skeleton of the most intricate ride they'd ever seen. It had loops, helixes, corkscrews and drops more terrifying than anything they'd ridden back home. The son quickly rescinded his consent and turned you guys father. "There's no way I'm getting on that thing. You go first," he said, "Then you can tell me if it's worth it." Not wanting to seem a coward, the father accepted. Stepping into the first car, he seated himself. As the attendant approached to check his shoulder restraint, her couldn't help but ask, "So how exactly am I supposed to learn an entire language from a roller coaster?" The attendant smiled and replied simply, "You'll see." Anticipation turned to unease as the cars lurched upward towards the first drop. The seconds felt like hours as the car climbed higher and higher, clicking steadily while the chain pulled it skyward. As the nose of the car tipped downward and he could see the enormous drop below, his inner fear turned verbal. Without thinking he screamed, "minä kuolen!" As he rounded the first turn and into an inverted twist, he debut another exclamation well inside and burst forth. "naida!" He screamed as the ride continued. A few minutes and many foreign-tongued exclamations later, he found himself back at the station trying to catch his breath with the smiling attendant removing his restraints. His ran up to his son and declared, "It really works! I'm not sure how, but it really works!" "How was it?" the son asked unimpressed. "It was a wild ride from start to Finnish." "The son smiled weakly. "Yeah , the cabbie stole our luggage."

As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.

One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.

Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.

I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.

I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.

I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.

After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.

I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.

So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.

I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.

As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.

The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.

I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.

This joke has been told to me

A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night. He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound.The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave.Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk."The man sa,ys, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk."The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks."In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound."The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door."The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door."The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the kno

So many obstacles to overcome just to have gotten where they've gotten.‬ It's a slippery slope but they always seem to manage their way back up to the top. Seasoned professionals!

I had been driving for a few years and had just moved off to college.

I was on my way back home to visit and it got dark during my drive. My headlights and radio worked but my dash lights were not coming on. When I got home I asked my dad about it and he said he'd go take a look. He went outside then comes back in the house just a few minutes later.

Me: "Did you find out what the problem is?"

Dad: "I think so."

Me: "Well, what was it?"

Dad: "I'll have to show you tomorrow, if I'm right then we're going to have fun working on your truck all morning."

We wait until morning, and dad wakes me up to go work on my truck. We go outside and he has me walk him through the entire problem again. Which lights were working and which were not, has me start the truck a few times and has me do the same troubleshooting I did the night before. I was getting frustrated and told him I tried absolutely everything.

Then he says "I think there's one thing you forgot." He points at a knob by the steering wheel. I looked at where he was pointing and it hit me. It's the damned the dash-light dimmer switch, and it was set to it's lowest (dimmest) position. When I looked back up at him he just had the biggest grin on his face. He then went into a full explanation on how this knob worked, knowing full well that I already knew what that knob did. Which, by the way, I'm sitting on the driver's seat and he's standing at the driver's side door. So I had no way to walk away from this embarrassing moment. All I could do was look down at the steering wheel and listen to him enjoying his joke.

Bonus story #1:

I'm in my 30s and one of my friends is a 74 year old guy that I play pool with. He always asks me what I've been up to, and one time I told him I met a girl.

He got excited and said "Do you have any pictures of her?" So I showed him a few pictures of us together.

Old man: "She's beautiful! She sounds like a keeper."

Then he leans in with a grin and says "Do you have any naked pictures of her?"

Me: "No way!"

Old man: "Do you want to see some?"

Bonus story #2:

That same old man was at our friend's wedding. He's sitting at the table with his wife and a bunch of other people. The conversation is about how they have been married for 50+ years. He says "I don't know how she's put up with me for this many years. But I've always told her that she can leave whenever she wants to, cause I'm comin' with her."

His wife explained that she has heard all of his jokes so

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

Me: I just go on reddit during my breaks. I find it a good way to pass time on my phone without using heaps of data like tumblr does Sister: That's true.. but I mainly just read fanfics Me: I'm trying to not read fabrics bc I have so many books to read Sister: Lol you read fabrics? Me: Nah, reddit has better threads than fabrics

Girlfriend: "How are we almost out of paper towels?"

Me: "You use way too many of them. It'd take me a month to use a roll by myself."

Girlfriend: "That's gross. I bet you think toilet paper would last that long too."

Me: "Of course."

Girlfriend: "You're so full of shit."

Me: "You're right I'd still go through a lot of toilet paper. You know why?"

Girlfriend: "Why?"

Me: "Because I'm full of shit!"

Girlfriend: Groan and eye roll

*After somewhat making a fool of myself while out for dinner"

> My mum: "There's so many ways you can take the piss outta Ben."

> Me: "Yeah, like with a Catheter."

Giggles and groans ensue.

I've heard my Pop tell this story so many times, I feel as though it's my duty to share it with this wonderful subreddit.

So, Pops is an air traffic controller. And a few years back, there was an initiative to boost workplace morale and get people to work together as a team.

Needless to say, the whole campaign was the butt of lots of jokes around the sector. Not that teamwork is a bad thing, of course. Just easy fodder for jokes, particularly in a group of middle-aged, dad-joke-loving men.

So one time, Pops is shooting the shit with another controller, and they're giving each other a hard time about one thing or another. And their supervisor walks up; real squirrelly guy who didn't cut it as an actually controller so they made him a supervisor (the FAA is silly that way). And he hears my Pops and the other guy razzing each other, and sticks his head in the sector and says, "Gentlemen, there's no 'I' in 'team'."

And Pops responds, "Yeah, but there's a 'U' in 'stupid'!"

Every time he tells that story, he just loses it. Cracks himself up. Even though I'm sure I've heard him tell it two dozen times.

So what I think is the youngest person in class was showing a video on his phone of Mercedes new 'ESP' technology, which led the conversation into what causes most car crashes, to which most contributed a lack of attention because of doing the same thing over and over. We noted how sometimes one can arrive home without remembering anything about the drive, and how many of us have really specific habits. One guy said an obvious, "I even get out the exact same way each time."

To which older pilot guy quips, "To the left?"

Laughs were had.

She didn't have very many items so I asked if she needed a bag.

She said she didn't need one, that she wanted to save a few plastic trees.

In the daddest way possible, I simply chuckled and nodded as she walked away into a misty fog of humor and bliss.

An Aussie blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates. 'I'm sorry,' St Peter said; 'but Heaven is suffering from an overload of godly souls and we have been forced to put up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden of Heavenly Arrivals.'

'That's cool' said the blonde, 'What does the entrance exam consist of?'

'Just three questions' said St Peter.

'Which are?' asked the blonde.

'The first,' said St Peter, 'is, which two days of the week start with the letter 'T'? The second is 'How many seconds are there in a year'?

The third is 'What was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?''

'Now,' said St Peter, 'Go away and think about those questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to have those answers for me.'

So the blonde went away and gave those three questions some considerable thought (I expect you to do the same).

The following morning, St Peter called upon the blonde and asked if she had considered the questions, to which she replied, 'I have.'

'Well then,' said St Peter, 'Which two days of the week start with the letter T?'

The blonde said, 'Today and Tomorrow.'

St Peter pondered this answer for some time and decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the question.

'Well then, could I have your answer to the second of the three questions' St Peter went on, 'how many seconds in a year?' The blonde replied, 'Twelve!' 'Only twelve' exclaimed St Peter, 'How did you arrive at that figure?' 'Easy,' said the blonde, 'there's the second of January, the second of February, right through to the second of December, giving a total of twelve seconds.'

St Peter looked at the blonde and said, 'I need some time to consider your answer before I can give you a decision.' He walked away shaking his head.

A short time later, St Peter returned to the blonde. 'I'll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?'

The blonde replied: 'Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer.' 'Really!' exclaimed St Peter, 'and what is the answer?' 'It's Andy.' 'Andy??' 'Yes, Andy,' said the blonde. This totally floored St Peter and he paced this way and that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand the suspense any longer and turning to the blonde, asked 'How in God's name did you arrive at

He pasta way. We cannoli do so much. His legacy will become a pizza history. Here today, gone tomato. I feel horrible, he just ran out of thyme.

I am sending olive my love to his friends. His wife is really upset too. Cheese crying. He died fusilli reasons. I never sausage a tragic situation.

it was a farfalle from grace.

Edit: Whoa! Woke up to so many upvotes! Thank you!