A list of puns related to "Something Else!!!!"
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...
"Might as well"
It’s not Rocket Science.
So my uncle picked me up from my boyfriends after work tonight, and asked how my day went. I explained to him that there was a snake and one of the dogs I take care of was protecting me and trying to warn me about said snake. This is how everything went down:
Uncle: it was probably a gopher snake.
Me: very true. We had a lot of them in Texas so I’m not too worried.
Uncle: you know, that’s how you ask for it.
Me: what do you mean?
Uncle: when you ask for something to eat you say ‘I could GO-PHER snake right about now’.
Needless to say we finished the ride with more horrid dad jokes.
Someone yelled back from the other side of camp. “YO SEND ME TEA.!”
Her peas.
A decom-POSER!
It's a vicious cycle.
'Did you hear about that shooting in Hounslow? Yeah, they closed the shop and everything: some guy had a starter pistol and was threatening to shoot everyone.'
<the sound of my mother and me shocked and putting on BBC News>
'The police said it was race related.'
I don't listen - and something else.
So my family has chickens and in order to understand how this pun came to be I must give a little background on a running joke my family makes. When our chickens do some crazy we’ll say something along the lines of “(chicken’s name) is on crack.” This was a few days ago so I don’t remember the exact words but it went something like this: Somebody: (chicken’s name) you need to get off of whatever crack you’re on. In my head: Wait a second, I feel like I can make a pun here... And about 10 seconds of thinking later I said some along the lines of “Or else we might have to call the poultrice!”
Get it? Poultry + police. Felt like a genius.
Why was the fraction apprehensive about marrying the decimal? Because he would have to convert.
Why do plants hate math? It gives them square roots.
Why did the student get upset when his teacher called him average? It was a mean thing to say!
Why was the math book depressed? It had a lot of problems.
Why is the obtuse triangle always so frustrated? Because it is never right.
Why can you never trust a math teacher holding graphing paper? He must be plotting something.
Why was the equal sign so humble? Because she knew she wasn’t greater than or less than anyone else.
What do you call the number 7 and the number 3 when they go out on a date? The odd couple
What do you call a number that can’t stay in one place? A Roamin’ numeral.
Did you hear the one about the statistician? Probably.
What do you call dudes who love math? Algebros.
I’ll do algebra, I’ll do trig. I’ll even do statistics. But graphing is where I draw the line!
Why should you never talk to Pi? Because she’ll go on and on and on forever.
Why are parallel lines so tragic if they have so much in common? It’s a shame they’ll never meet.
Are monsters good at math? Not unless you Count Dracula.
What’s the best way to flirt with a math teacher? Use acute angle.
Did you hear about the mathematician who is afraid of negative numbers? They’d stop at nothing to avoid them.
How do you stay warm in any room? Just huddle in the corner, where it’s always 90 degrees.
Why is six afraid of seven? Because seven eight ("ate") nine!
Why DID seven eat nine? Because you’re supposed to eat 3 squared meals a day!
Why does nobody talk to circles? Because there is no point.
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡Back in the before times, when sit-down restaurants existed, I used to order boneless cheese sticks and would just throw the word "boneless" in front of any appetizer with 100% corniness. The purpose of this isn't to make a good joke. It's not a good joke. The purpose is to make my dining companions catch some cringe splash damage and want to crawl into a hole and die out of embarrassment for my being horribly corny.
But there is a real, deeper purpose that I've discovered entirely by accident. People, especially young people, are so self-conscious and worried about saying or doing something embarrassing that it taints a lot of social gatherings. They go to a restaurant and are afraid to speak up even when their order is blatantly wrong. They'll tip well even when the food took an hour to arrive and the server has disappeared into the corn stalks behind a baseball field. It takes 2 hours of hanging out together before some friends finally stop nitpicking themselves, uncomfortable in their own bodies and brains, feeling perpetually judged, and begin to relax. These are the kinds of people who go to sleep every night replaying cringey moments from high school. Their last thought of the day is when the Burger King girl said, "Enjoy your meal!" and they said, "Thanks, you too."
It takes 2 hours and/or a lot of booze before they're comfortable enough to take conversational risks and truly reveal themselves. But if I come right out of the gate with a really dumb joke, then we can cut to the chase. There's less danger because someone in the group already shot themselves in the foot, right off the bat. They pulled a pin on the cringe grenade and then jumped on it.
You cringe at my dumb joke and then we're over the hump. Someone has already done something pretty stupid, so go ahead and order the hubcap of nachos and a massive chocolate shake because nobody is going to judge you poorly while they're all judging me.
In terms of price negotiations (haggling), there is a psychological concept called "anchoring". You throw out the first number and all subsequent numbers are compared to that number. This is the same idea. We've already set the humor standard pretty low at "boneless cheese sticks", so you can say the dumbest shit you want and, as long as it's not worse than my cheesy joke, it won't matter.
This is why, when you were a teenager and your dad took you and some friends out, your dad made corny jokes. He knew they were corny jokes. You and your friends un
... keep reading on reddit ➡Nevermind, that was raw. Let me cook something else up.
1.i don’t listen and 2. Something else she said I don’t know
All my life I thought it was something else but whatever, it’s OK.
Turn 11.
My kid asked me that question and they clearly had something else in mind, because she was less than enthusiastic about my response.
After taking our order and asking if we want anything else, I point at my phone and ask if she can leave us a menu just in case.
I think I wrote my first dad joke original on something new to this changing world!
I told them “you’re masking me something I don’t have the answer to, why not mask someone else?”
"I wish you'd called me something else," he often says.
A while ago, there were some friars who needed to raise money, so they opened up a flower shop. Across the street, there was another flower shop that had already been open for a few years. Afraid of competition, the owner politely asked the friars to sell something else in heir shop. They refused. People liked the new flower shop better, so the first shop’s profits started dropping. Concerned that he might go out of business, the owner of the first shop asked the friars to close their shop. They refused. Some time passed, and the first shop was on the verge of bankruptcy. Desperate, the owner begged the friars to close their shop. They refused again. Then, the owner of the first shop used the last of his money to hire a hit man named Hugh Williams to beat up the friars and trash their shop. He did, and when he was done, he told the friars he’d be back if they didn’t close down. Scared for their lives, the friars agreed, proving that Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent Florist Friars.
Her: "Nothing"
Me: "We're all out of Nothing would you like something else?"
Her: "Banana"
DAD JOKES SAVE LIVES
Dad: OK......Sorry Taxi, was there something else?
Every time he needs something done, he goes and gets someone else to do it for him!
A boy was in love with a girl. Madly in love. He told his older brother, who suggested he ask her to the upcoming prom. So, that night, he went to her house with some flowers and chocolates and asked the girl to the prom.
She was overjoyed. She took the flowers and hugged him around the neck. When he went home, his brother told him he had to get ready. Prom was in only a week!
The next day, he traveled to a suit store. He picked out the perfect one. It would go perfectly with his date’s dress. He picked his up and went to check out. Unfortunately, it seems a lot of people were buying suits, as the line nearly went out of the store. He groaned, but anything for his love. After two long hours, he finally got his suit.
A couple days later, his brother suggested that he rent a limo. He and his brother went to rent one that evening. When they arrived, they discovered that there were nearly 50 people waiting to rent a vehicle. They waited for nearly three hours, but they were finally able to rent a limo for the big day.
The afternoon before the dance, he went to buy some flowers for his date. Unfortunately, the store seemed to be having a sale, and the checkout lines extended into the parking lot. He stomped his foot. “Why is it that every time I go to buy something, everyone else wants to buy it too?!” He begrudgingly waited for nearly four hour before walking out with a bouquet of roses.
That night, he rode in the limo to his date’s house. She got in, and they talked the entire trip. He presented her with the flowers, which she adored. Her dress was stunning, and went perfectly with his suit.
They arrived at the school and got out, arms linked. They walked inside, said hi to a couple of friends, and began dancing and enjoying the night.
About halfway through the dance, the boy was parched. He told his girl that he was going to get a drink. He walked over to the snack table and discovered that there was no punch line.
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡Here: https://www.reddit.com/r/dadjokes/comments/btsq5u/my_dad_will_be_telling_dad_jokes_till_the_end/
Well, I remembered something else he said once that I find hilarious (now) that you may also.
When I was a kid my chore was to do the dishes, by hand, after every meal bar holidays when I had help and the week of my birthday. One particular time, I must have been about 15 when I asked my Dad, Why don't we use the dishwasher, its easier and it's right next to me?
In the proud tradition of Dads before him he answered, We are using the dishwasher, now hurry up and quit complaining.
I laugh now in hindsight, and for some reason really enjoy doing dishes by hand.
This year, I will try to beat that but, I usually get bored and end up turning over to watch something else...
Dad: [Comments on something pointless]
Me: No one cares, dad.
Dad: I care.
Me: No one else does.
Dad: Obamacare.
I was explaining something to a client and a real estate agent when I am interrupted by a Train whistle. I pause waiting for it to end.
I then continue my explanation. Only to get interrupted again for a good 15 seconds.
After it ends.
Me: Long pause.... I'm sorry I've lost my train of thought.
The agent chuckled. But I could hear everyone else rolling their eyes.
Or else something seriously suspicious happened in the delivery room.
(This is more parody/satire than a pun, but I tried to make sure it had puns.)
No more than half the people attending can wear trucker hats.
The fences must be measured and spaced using meters. It doesn't matter if you're putting them in someone's yard.
If you pull up a fence post, you cannot reuse it. In fact, you cannot use recycled posts from other people's yards.
Don't keep up with the Jones'. But if you can't avoid this, make sure you give the Jones' the credit due for coming up with it first.
You can bring lunch as sort of a potluck affair, but do not bring canned meat products from Hormel.
If you bring a fence post, it must look like a fence post. If it might be confused with something else, make sure the box or protective wrapping calls it a fence post.
When announcing the event, you are not allowed to make references to punch or people getting in line for punch. Just like Fight Club...
For now, we have no rule about promoting one stock car event over another as you work, or discussing other controversial matters. That won't change as long as you don't abuse this. Please keep your fence posts in good taste and suitable for all audiences. But if you do bring risque fence posts, make sure to cover them with a shroud labeled adult only, and I won't pull them up, provided the other rules are followed.
The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the village tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you." Yes, she says, "I remember it well."
OK, he says, "How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time's sake?"
"Oh Jim, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!" A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I've got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them so there's no trouble. So he follows them.
The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks. Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in.. Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground.
The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn't know.
After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on. The policeman, is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing, I've got to ask them what their secret is.
So, as the couple passes, he says to them, "Excuse me, but that was something else. You must've had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?"
Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply,"Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."
My wife: "That's what I was thinking in my head."
Me, opening my mouth to say someth-
My wife: "Shhhh."
She knew I was going to say, "Where else would you think it?"
I never listen.
Something else...
I don't listen to her and something else she was rattling on about.
I don't listen. And something else.
If you take something else, that’s another thing
I don't listen...and something else.
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