The Admirer Puns

Ceiling fans

Then it dawned on me.

The man replied, “Why thank you kind sir, but my name’s not Frost.”

“It’s junk”

It was a perch.

The way he’d cast a net.

The belly button

He's become a real role model for me

but her naval base was full of discharged seamen.

A man sees a celebrity he admires on the street and runs over to him but doesn’t take the hint that the celebrity wants to be alone and is irritable. After about 10 minutes of following him and shouting at him the man yells, “I love this guy, he’s the shit!” The celebrity finally has enough and punches the man in the face... And that’s when the shit hit the fan

To celebrate, we invited all the family and friends we could to my parents' house and then made the big announcement. Everyone was ecstatic and my father in particular was driven to tears. At a certain point during the night he pulled me aside and led me into his study, which I had never really been inside until this point. He opened a safe and produced cigars a bottle of whiskey and a large, beautifully bound book.

"I could never have asked for a better son," my father said, lighting the cigars and pouring the whiskey. "I hope you think I was a good enough father to deserve you."

"Of course, Dad," I said, "You were all I could've asked for and I wish my son admires me even half as much as I admire you."

"Now I've shared with you nearly everything I know," he said, "But not this one thing. This is the Big Book of Dad Jokes. There are many like it but this one is special. My father gave it to me when your mother and I first found out she was pregnant with you, and I studied it and studied it, learning all the dad jokes I could and mastering book's secrets. I hope it serves you as well as it served me in being a father... No... I know it will serve you well. I love you, my son."

"Dad... I don't know what to say... I'm honoured..."

"Hi Honoured, I'm Dad."

I would walk into every room while giving tours with my arms outstretched, head tilted slightly upwards, eyes shining, just admiring the beauty of the space and then spin around slowly and proudly state, "And this? THIS is where the magic happens!"

Me: it's satis-FACTORY

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

It's a fleeting moment.

Two rednecks were looking at a Sears catalog and admiring the models.

One says to the other, 'Have you seen the beautiful girls in this catalog?'

The second one replies, 'Yes, they are very beautiful. And look at the price!'

The first one says, with wide eyes, 'Wow, they aren't very expensive. At this price, I'm buying one.'

The second one smiles and pats him on the back. 'Good idea! Order one and if she's as beautiful as she is in the catalog, I will get one too.'

Three weeks later, the youngest redneck asks his friend, 'Did you ever receive the girl you ordered from the Sears catalog?'

The second redneck replies, 'No, but it shouldn't be long now. I got her clothes yesterday!'

They start to admire the holiday homes that are near the beach

"How heavy do you think this house is?" His son suddenly asks, pointing at one of them.

"I don't think it'll be that heavy," the dad replied, "since it's a lighthouse."

I was sitting at a moderately crowded bar last night enjoying dinner when an older couple came up and sat next to me. We exchanged hellos and I continued eating my jambalaya. After a bit, the husband finally knew what he wanted to drink.

Husband: "Do you have (so and so) beer?"

Bartender: "Hang on a sec, I'll check."

As the bartender walked away, the husband held both of his arms in the air, closing his hands into fists right above his head, a la Steve Holt. After about 30 seconds, and you could tell she really didn't want to, the wife asks what he's doing.

Wife: "Honey, why are your arms in the air?"

Husband: "I'm hanging on."

The wife rolls her eyes and I laugh inappropriately loudly. He grins.

So at this point, the joke has been made. It's over. But no! He's in it for the long haul. He kept his arms in the air for a solid 3 more minutes, just so the bartender could get in on the joke. She returns with his bottle of beer.

Husband: "Can I stop hanging on now?"

Bartender groans.

Wife: "Yes, please."

I admire his dedication. And his taste in beer.

Ok now that all the r/PunPatrol people are gone I am willing to be a spy for your organization. I have currently achieved the rank of supreme admiral punsniffer and have solid evidence on r/PunPatrol's next targets.

I'm here today to tell you all a horrible story, so that none of you have to go through the same experience as my friend.

My friend, Hugh, is a very religious man, who is also involved in our community. 2 weeks ago, our local church burned down and Hugh believed it was his Christian duty to help them get back on their feet. Hugh allowed the friars of the church to set up a cart in his mall to sell their flowers. Every day, the friars came in at 7:00 in the morning with a bushel of beautiful flowers and began to work diligently to arrange them into bouquets. All was going well, the mall was generating more revenue and the church was making more money than they were by selling the flowers in front of the church on Sunday. Everyone was happy; until that first weekend.

Our town is kinda tourist-y, so we get some out-of-towners on the weekends. A gay couple came to the mall the first weekend that the friars had taken up shop (Typically, our town is pretty progressive, but the friars tended to be uber-conservative). The couple came over to the cart and admired the flowers; they tried to purchase a bouquet, but the friars refused to sell to them. The couple was outraged and went to see Hugh directly. They complained to him that the friars were being discriminatory, so Hugh promised to have a talk with the friars. When Hugh confronted the friars, they refused to sell to the couple on the grounds that “they were committing an atrocity in the eyes of the lord.” The couple stormed off and promised to boycott the cart.

This past weekend, the couple came back with a large group and a letter from the mayor, saying that the friars had to sell to them, regardless of sexual preference. The friars stood firm and refused to sell to them, so the group started a protest. They brought in signs and started chanting around the cart. The friars continued to sell their flowers and Hugh allowed them to remain, so eventually the protest began to boycott the mall, rather than just the cart.

By today, the mall had lost 50% of its normal weekend revenue. The group sent a letter to Hugh saying that they could forgive him if he shut down the flower cart within the week. Hugh was pretty broken up, but he had no choice. To maintain his livelihood, he would have to kick the friars out of his store. He talked with the friars this morning and revoked their previous agreement. The friars had their cart packed and left by 7:30, to huge cheers from the community. The mall has been pretty norm

A long time ago, a pirate, named Captain Bravado, was sailing the sea with his fellow pirate friends.

One day, as he was sailing the sea, an enemy ship approched. His crew was really nervous.

He said: "Bring me my red shirt!"

The first man who heard the order got him his red shirt. They went to war and killed all the enemy pirates. That night, his crew asked why he wanted a red shirt.

He said: "If I had been hit during the fight, you wouldn't have seen my blood."

All his men were looking at him with admiration. The next day, at dawn, 10 ships approched Captain Bravado's vessel. His men were horrified. They were waiting for his order.

He said: "Bring me my brown pants !"

In the late '60s the government was developing ARPANET and the developers were trying to find a way for users on the system to communicate with each other.

The scientists involved came up with an electronic messaging system that they called the Tickle.

Tickles could be used to send important code updates, meeting invitations, or even just little jokes all along the network.

The DOD heard about these Tickles and asked for a briefing to determine their military potential. At a high-level meeting of generals and admirals, the lead developer presented the Tickle concept.

The ranking General asked for a demonstration and the lead scientist said "Sure, I'll send you a test Tickle."

And that's how E-mail was born.

My wife and I went out for dinner with our 5 week old son. A group of grandparents (no relation) were expressing their admiration and asked my wife how old he is. "26" I answer, receiving a knowing smile from the grand dads and groans from everyone else.

The girl was wearing a firefighter's helmet.

The wagon was being pulled by her dog and cat.

"That sure is a nice fire truck!" the fireman said with admiration.

"Thanks!" the girl replied.

The fireman looked a little closer and noticed the girl had tied the wagon to her dog's collar and to the cat's testicles.

The fireman said, "I don't want to tell you how to run your rig, but if you were to tie that rope around the cat's collar, I think you could go faster."

The little girl replied thoughtfully, "You're probably right, but then I wouldn't have a siren."

My dad has this habit of pretending he didn't hear what you said, and then "repeating" it. Like if I said I was going to see an art show, he'll say, "You're going to a FART show? I had no idea you'd have any interest in that!" Lots of jokes along those lines, amongst others.

When I was younger I would laugh because he was kinda funny, and also to make him happy, but as I've gotten older I laugh not JUST because he's funny (in a corny way) but because the fact he still makes these jokes makes me so happy and really warms my heart. My mom is physically disabled, my dad has a bunch of health issues, we've all suffered terribly at times because of all this illness. And no matter how bad it gets, my dad is always there trying his hardest to put a smile on other people's faces and to lighten the mood a bit with his jokes. I've always been the type of girl to mope and be depressed when things are hard, but as I've gotten older I've tried to be more like my old man because I think it's something really special and admirable and selfless about stepping outside of your own negativity to give others something to laugh at or smile about. My dad is such a fuckin hero, I love him so much, and I can't imagine how unbearable this world would seem at times without him trying to make us all laugh.

So to all you dads telling your corny dad jokes, don't ever stop. Your kids and wife might groan or roll their eyes, but inside they love their corny old man and appreciate the goofy puns and fart jokes you tell!

I have written this book to sweep away all misunderstandings about the crafty art of punnery and to convince you that the pun is well worth celebrating.... After all, the pun is mightier than the sword, and these days you are much more likely to run into a pun than into a sword. [A pun is a witticism involving the playful use of a word in different senses, or of words which differ in meaning but sound alike.]

Scoffing at puns seems to be a conditioned reflex, and through the centuries a steady barrage of libel and slander has been aimed at the practice of punning. Nearly three hundred years ago John Dennis sneered, “A pun is the lowest form of wit,” a charge that has been butted and rebutted by a mighty line of pundits and punheads.

Henry Erskine, for example, has protested that if a pun is the lowest form of wit, “It is, therefore, the foundation of all wit.” Oscar Levant has added a tag line: “A pun is the lowest form of humor—when you don’t think of it first.” John Crosbie and Bob Davies have responded to Dennis with hot, cross puns: “...If someone complains that punning is the lowest form of humor you can tell them that poetry is verse.”

Samuel Johnson, the eighteenth century self-appointed custodian of the English language, once thundered, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the national till without remorse... ”

Joseph Addison pronounced that the seeds of punning are in the minds of all men, and tho’ they may be subdued by reason, reflection, and good sense, they will be very apt to shoot up in the greatest genius, that which is not broken and cultivated by the rules of art.

Far from being invertebrate, the inveterate punster is a brave entertainer. He or she loves to create a three-ring circus of words: words clowning, words teetering on tightropes, words swinging from tent tops, words thrusting their head into the mouths of lions. Punnery can be highly entertaining, but it is always a risky business. The humor can fall on its face, it can lose its balance and plunge into the sawdust, or it can be decapitated by the snapping shut of jaws. While circus performers often receive laughter or applause for their efforts, punsters often draw an obligatory groan for theirs. But the fact that most people groan at, rather than laugh at, puns doesn’t mean that the punnery isn’t fu

Receptionist at work had gone to get a glass of water from the bar. As she came around the corner stephen(the night Porter) was coming around at the same time. Startled, she said "oh jesus!" And without missing a beat he said "no, Stephen" and carried on walking. My admiration of the man rocketed.

Mum was admiring this dress that she bought in Vanuatu and said "Hmm, I really like that dress. Should have bought two." So of course my pun orientated mind naturally said, "Well you should have got...Vanua-two!" She spent the next 5 minutes saying "HA. HA. HA."