So Many Ways to Die 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!😁

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?"

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. ♬

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.

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

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!