The Final Year Puns

that way I always start the new year off on the right foot

See you next year (from California)!

Long time fan, first time poster.

It was about thyme.

It was like a Brother to me.

But I was able to e-merge.

It produces a greenish flame and it looks really cool while I'm lighting up my cigarette.

But then, this morning, I walked into the laundry room again and saw the Tides had turned.

Towels.

So I tend to tell bad dad jokes as a nerd and father they fit well and my wife has grown tired but today she got me.

My eldest is away on a trip and the dishwasher is normally his chore, backstory over..

My wife is sorting the dishwasher and on completion states that we will have to unload the dishwasher in the morning or this evening and then we can put a cleaner in it..... she may protest but I’m sure we can make her fit... she then continued to laugh at her own dad joke for some time..

Achievement unlocked..

There are more ducks on that side.

I feel like a weight has been lifted.

He calls it The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth.

So help me Gauze.

...he did his thyme after all.

I did some yardwork yesterday and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer. The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking. My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing, and I said, "Nothing." The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying "just thinking" is because she then would have asked, "About what?" At that point I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions. Finally I pondered an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts? Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer, and some more heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby, and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion: A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, "It might be nice to have another child." But you never hear a guy say, "You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts." I rest my case. Time for another beer.

I'm not sure if it works or not.

It's about time.

Apparently, it's a series of bark codes.

Friends and family seeing my new hair cut for the first time have all asked me the same question:

"Oh, you cut your hair off?"

"No", I respond. I let them struggle with an internal dilemma, doubting reality, wondering if they were losing touch life, until I finally respond, "My hairdresser cut it off."

Rüdoff was one of the best fighters in his village and a terrifying opponent on the battlefield. He would often return from battle, so drenched in his opponent's blood that he became known as "Rüdoff det røde", meaning "the red".

After years of wars, and regular battles, Rüdoff finally grew old, and decided that his fighting days were behind him. He became the best farmer that his village had ever known and people would travel from.far away to ask him about his crops and to predict the weather, as he was quite proficient at it.

One morning he wokeup, and looked out the window, the skys were clear and the sun was shining, but Rüdoff could feel the pressure in his old bones and battle scars

"It will Rain soon", he said to his wife while she made breakfast. She glanced outside and told him he was nuts, it was bright and sunny.

He simply hiked up his pants and reminded her:

Rüdoff The Red knows rain, dear.

He scored a home run every single at bat, and always the exact same way. Way over right field, too high for anyone to reach, and it always landed in exactly the 17th row of the stands, give or take a couple feet.

He earned the nickname “the machine” for how consistently he hit the exact same spot every time. Right field, 17th row, every single time. He did this for 20 years before he retired. Tickets to the 2-3 seats that the ball always landed on sold for over $2k a pop by the time he retired because you were guaranteed at least a couple home run balls.

And the day he retired a reporter asked him “How does it feel to be retiring as the greatest hitter of all time?”

Hugh just looked at the reporter puzzled. “What do you mean?” He said.

The reporter clarified “literally over 5,000 times you went to the plate and hit a home run to right field, 17th row of the stands!”

Hugh looked dejected and disappointed “yeah, my greatest failure...”

“What do you mean?” Said the reporter incredulously.

Hugh let’s out a long sigh, and looked down at the ground quietly for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’ve been aiming left this whole time”

A number of years ago I was in a rock band. We were hugely successful, playing some of the biggest venues and entertaining swarms of fans.

The last shoes we ever played were on our world tour. We played the Americas and then flew over to Europe. We played our way through Russia and even a couple of gigs in China, before selling out our final show in Japan.

It was a hell of a Journey, but it was time for me to hang up my guitar. I retired from the rock star life and got an office job in Tokyo.

I made a few friends at work, and grew close with one in particular, Narada-san. One day Narada had the day off for a funeral, but that wasn't enough; he needed more time. He was torn between his obligation to return to work and his desire to have more time at home. He asked me what he should do.

The answer was simple. I picked up my guitar and played a Japanese version of our biggest hit from 1981:

Don't Stop Bereaving

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

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

A little boy named Tom was approaching his 3rd birthday, and absolutely adored the show "Tractor Tom", partially because of his name being spoken, and partially because he loved tractors.

As the day drew nearer, his parents decided to buy him a toy tractor as a gift. The rest of his toys were gone with the wind at this point, as Tom spent all his waking hours playing with this one tractor toy.

Fast forward a few years, and Tom's now approaching his 10th birthday, with his love for tractors intact and intensified. His parents discuss what to get for him, and decide that a ride-on tractor to replace his bike is the best gift they can give him.

Tom absolutely loves the gift, and spends all of his time out of school riding around the neighbourhood while his bike collects dust in the garage.

We come forward a few more years, as Tom approaches his 18th birthday, with an only intensified adoration of tractors. His father pulls him aside on the morning of his birthday, saying "Now son, I know that we've promised you a car, but we know what you really want."

He leads him outside, to a brand new tractor with a bow on it, saying that this is his welcome to adulthood.

Tom is beyond excited, and spends the next few months going everywhere in his tractor - grocery trips, bars, classes, friends' houses.....

Again, a few years later, Tom is driving down a back country road, in the middle of nowhere, with his tractor, in the middle of a storm. The tractor breaks down, and with no air conditioning or any form of modern comforts, Tom is in a miserable mood until someone finally comes past for him to flag down for help. After this, Tom realises that although tractors are fun, maybe they're not the best transport method out there.

Tom ages through a few more years, and finds himself driving down another road in the middle of nowhere in his car, and sees a house on fire just off the road. Being a good samaritan, he pulls over and heads up the driveway to a woman running out of the house screaming "Please, help, help! My baby is trapped in there! Go and call 911, please!"

Tom turns around, then, before leaving, has a brainwave.

He turns back and walks towards the flames, saying "Don't worry, ma'am, I've got this."

He takes a deep breath in, and the fire disappears into nothingness. As you'd expect, the woman is in awe, and asks, "Oh my God, how did you do that?!"

Tom simply responds, "Well you see ma'am, I'm an extractor fan."

This actually happened a couple years ago, but I've decided to finally come out if lurking to share it here.

I was on a trip with some friends and we had stopped for lunch. We weren't very busy so my buddy and I shared a plate of wings and a couple pitchers of beer. When it came to pay, the bill was $20.01 (I don't remember how much it actually was, but it was an odd number) and we just split the bill down the middle. When we got our checks, his had the extra penny. We joked about him paying so much more, and so I said I would add an extra penny to my tip, plus one more penny to one up him.

Afterwards when we were walking out my buddy turned to me and said "do you think she'll she even notice?" I said "I like to think that she will notice and maybe chuckle at it. Besides pennies can add up and make a difference, but that's just my 2 cents"

I am not a dad yet. But I definitely feel the fatherly humor running through my veins.

At job interview at restaurant there were three aplicants a man, a women and Bob. The interviewer asked the man,

"Why do you deserve this position"

The man replied "I have worked at three 5 star restayrants and have been in this field for 8 years"

The interviewer asked the same question to the women and she replied "I have been working in this field for 15 years and have managed many famous restaurants around the world"

It was finally Bob's turn and the interviewer asked him the same question,

"Why do you deserve this position"

Bob said "You could say i bring a lot to the table"

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

[from NPR-- this sub doesn't allow link posts]

The annual turkey pardon is a silly tradition, and President Obama knows it. On Wednesday, before pardoning turkeys named Tater and Tot, Obama summed up his feelings about this particular duty.

"It is my great privilege — well, it's my privilege — actually, let's just say it's my job to grant them clemency this afternoon," Obama said.

Not in attendance for the president's final turkey pardoning ceremony were first daughters Sasha and Malia Obama, who gamely laughed alongside their father last year. So instead, the president's nephews Austin and Aaron Robinson stood by for what Obama called his "corny-copia of dad jokes about turkeys."

And thus began a pun-fest for the ages. Here's a list of President Obama's groaners from this year's pardoning ceremony:

"Actually [Sasha and Malia] just couldn't take my jokes anymore. They were fed up."

"What I haven't told them yet is we are going to do this every year from now on. No cameras, just us, every year. No way I'm cutting this habit cold turkey."

"Tater is here in a backup role just in case Tot can't fulfill his duties. So he's sort of like the vice turkey. We're working on getting him a pair of aviator glasses."

"I want to take a moment to recognize the brave turkeys who weren't so lucky. Who didn't get to ride the gravy train to freedom. Who met their fate with courage and sacrifice and proved that they weren't chicken."

[After touting positive economic indicators and the low uninsured rate] "That's worth gobbling about."

"We should also make sure everyone has something to eat on Thanksgiving. Of course, except the turkeys, because they're already stuffed."

"When somebody at your table tells you that you've been hogging all of the side dishes, you can't have any more, I hope that you respond with a creed that sums up the spirit of a hungry people: 'Yes, we cran.' "

"Look, I know there are some bad ones in here, but this is the last time I'm doing this, so we're not leaving any room for leftovers."

"And now from the Rose Garden, Tater and Tot will go to their new home at Virginia Tech, which is admittedly a bit hokey." (The Hokies are the Virginia Tech mascot.)

"And so let's get on with the pardoning. Because it's Wednesday afternoon and everyone knows that Thanksgiving traffic can put people in a foul mood."

[from NPR -- http://www.npr.org/2016/11/23/503178220/president-obamas-2016-turkey-pardon-dad-jokes-the-definitive-list?utm_source=facebook.com

There were three medieval kingdoms on the shores of a lake. There was an island in the middle of the lake, over which the kingdoms had been fighting for years. Finally, the three kings decided that they would send their knights out to do battle, and the winner would take the island. The night before the battle, the knights and their squires pitched camp and readied themselves for the fight. The first kingdom had 12 knights, and each knight had five squires, all of whom were busily polishing armor, brushing horses, and cooking food. The second kingdom had twenty knights, and each knight had 10 squires. Everyone at that camp was also busy preparing for battle. At the camp of the third kingdom, there was only one knight, with his squire. This squire took a large pot and hung it from a looped rope in a tall tree. He busied himself preparing the meal, while the knight polished his own armor. When the hour of the battle came, the three kingdoms sent their squires out to fight (this was too trivial a matter for the knights to join in). The battle raged, and when the dust had cleared, the only person left was the lone squire from the third kingdom, having defeated the squires from the other two kingdoms, thus proving that the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.

He invited me to go explore a cave with him, but it seemed dangerous so I declined. Months later he planned another caving expedition and invited me again, but again I said no. Half a year later, he planned another trip, but he insisted that I join him. He spent a great deal of time explaining the safety equipment and measures used, and I reluctantly changed my mind and agreed to go with him. I finally caved

The year is 2045, space travel has finally gotten started.

As major companies scramble to come up with ways to capitalize on this new venture, Nissan decides to end its most popular light truck.

As the last one rolls off the line, they announce: "This is it, folks. This is the Final Frontier."

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

To celebrate the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin, the scientific community joined together for a party. As is common at such gatherings, the Biologists began to argue about what species was the most suited to its environment. Finally after much heated debate, a group of scientists pledged to spend the rest of the year exhaustively researching the Biological record to once and for all determine which creature was the ultimate example of adaptivity and proficiency ever to live.

Yesterday, the results were announced at the National Academy of Sciences. The creature identified as the most adaptive and proficient in Earth's history was a previously unknown animal from the Mesozoic era, a water dwelling insect that thrived for a hundred million years.

It was ... a FishAnt

The year is 1541 and the French have just begun colonization in North America. Young Jean-Luc is in his newly crafted home when suddenly his friend Jean-Pierre bursts through his front door. 'Jean Luc!' he exclaims. 'You weel nevar believe! I 'ave 'eard word of a bacon tree!'. Jean-Luc looks confused and scoffs 'Imposseeble! You cannot grow BaycON on a tree!'. 'Come! And I weel show you ze bacon tree!'. So Jean-Luc & Jean-Pierre set off down the river, with Jean-pierre providing direction to the enigmatic 'bacon tree'. Finally, they pulled over onto a small beach that lead to a large forest. 'Stay 'ere and watch ze canoe, and I weel bring ze bacon back from ze bacon tree!' said John-Pierre. Hours go by and John-Pierre hasn't returned. As night falls, and Jean-Luc is about to enter the forest to look for his friend, he hears a rustling in the nearby brush, to which Jean-Pierre stumbles out, bloody and with arrows through his legs and arms. 'Jean-Pierre! What 'appened!!' exclaimed Jean-luc. 'Turns out it was not a bacOn tree.....it was an 'AMBUSH!!!'

I've been making dad jokes for years but my wife and I are expecting our first child and I've finally been making dad jokes while actually being a dad.

When we were in the hospital I got my wife a blanket. What was awesome was they were kept in this machine that was specifially made to heat blankets. I laid the blanket over my wife and siad. "do you think they keep these at womb temperature?" I heard a nurse laugh for a solid 3 minutes.

This is my legacy.

There are many tales that have come from Viking lore but few are as lost as the tale of Bran Rudolph the Red.

It was said that he was blessed by God's with a keen ability to predict the weather. Due to this magical gift, he became a renowned seaman. Feared by his enemies, and respected by his bannermen. After years of successful raids and conquests, one of his shield maidens finally plucked up the courage and asked him how he does it.

"Bran, how do you always predict the weather? How have you always, managed to avoid every storm the sea throws at you". All his men laughed and looked up at their leader. Before he could respond, his right-hand man stood up and with a smile on his face and retorted, " It's simple. Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear."

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

Jeff went to his local train station and begged for the job. He got a job, as a janitor. Every day he swept the train car floors. To make his job easier, he added certain style to his sweeping technique. He used a 3 level system for how powerful he wanted to sweep. He had a small sweep for small piles of dust. Medium sweeps for leftover chip bags and plactic bottles. And the Super Mega Large sweeps for when there were spider webs as big as the train.

Jeff was a master sweeper, so he got Promoted!.. To hobo kicking. Nowadays he comes to the train station early in the morning, finds the nearest hobo, and kicks him out. However, Jeff's legs hurt after several strong kicks, so he used his 3 level system in hobo kicking. He had a small kick for tiny, bite sized hobos. Medium kicks for your average sized hobo. And his Super Mega Powerful kick for 300 pound hobos.

Jeff was sooooo good at kicking hobos and he was Promoted!.. to coal shoveling. Jeff arrives 20 minutes before his train departure, loads up with the conductor, and shovels coal. likewise with his legs, Jeff's arms got tired after several large piles of shoveled coal, so he used his 3 level system to rest Jeff's weak arms. Jeff dumps small piles of coal in the incinerator to send the train at a slow pace. He dumps a Medium pile for a somewhat fast pace. But when the train station's 30 miles away and he's scheduled to arrive in 7 minutes, Jeff uses his Big Gargantuan Humongous shoveling strength to send the train at super sonic speed!

After all of Jeff's many years of working for this train station, they finally promote him to Train Conductor! Jeff shows up to work 30 minutes early on his first day, conducts the train for his first time ever, and crashes the train. He injures 30 and kills 13 more. Jeff is sentenced to Death.

The day of Jeff's execution, he's asked for his last meal. Jeff tells the guard that he wants a 13 foot stack of pancakes and a 40 ounce jug of green Kool-Aid. Jeff takes exactly 34 minutes to eat with it all. 26 Mintues later, Jeff is taken to the electric chair.

Jeff sits down in the electric chair, and is strapped in by a nearby guard. After all the safety precautions, they turn on the electric chair.

BZZZZZZ

Nothin happened. The guard is confused and Jeff is confused. The guard trys it again.

BZZZZZZ

Nothing. Jeff doesn't even move a muscle. The guard decides to let Jeff go since he can't kill him. Before Jeff leaves, the guard has one question.

Guard : "Excuse me um, J

Throughout his whole life he was just fascinated with trains. Specifically passenger cars. He would enjoy going on trips with his family.

Demitri grew up and decided to make it his career. Unfortunately the difficult life he had from bullies pushed him towards the bottle and turned him to an alcoholic.

One late night in his shift he wrecked the train killing 10 people. When the courts found out he was drunk while operating they charged him with murder and sentenced him to the electric chair. For his last meal he only requested a simple ripe banana. When his time came the executioner strapped him to chair and asked for any last words. He simply said, "No." The pulled the lever and to everyone's amazement he was unharmed. The government saw this as an act of God and released him.

Couple of years later Dimitri got another job operating locomotives again. Unfortunately bad habits are not easy to quit and he was still an alcoholic. These trains were his only happiness. Unfortunately it happened again. He was drunk and crashed the train this time killing 8 people. He was again sentenced to death by the electric chair. He once again requested a banana. This time executioner really soaked the sponge to not risk a repeat. When the lever was pulled Dimitri was again left unharmed. Once again it was concluded to be another act of God and he was given his freedom.

Dimitri turned to the bottle even more especially having 18 lives gone because of him. He somehow managed to get another job doing what he loved most. It happened again though. This time, 23 people. The courts angry sentenced him one more time to death by electric chair.

When the time for his final meal came he requested another banana. The guards being very visibly upset over the situation denied his request and he was left no last meal. As the time approached and he was strapped to the chair. The executioner had a large grin ready to take this murderous man off Earth. When he pulled the lever however he was still left unharmed.

Furious the executioner cried, "How are you still alive?! You did not eat the banana!"

Dimitri shook his head and simply said, "Oh no officer the banana is not why I'm still alive. It's because I'm a terrible conductor."

In my AP European History Class, we have to a Long Essay Question. For our final, we are allowed to pick from two different questions. We had done a lot of preparing in class for the Long Essay Question. It was most commonly abbreviated as LEQ. (ELL IEH KIYU). So on the day of my test:

Me: Hey Mr. [teacher], do you know my friend Ellie? She was in your class last year.

Teacher: Uhh, last name?

Me: Q

Teacher: That was awful

Me: Do I get extra credit for that?

Teacher: No.

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. ♬

Mum was out shopping and calling Dad excitedly at some new bedding she'd found. "It's so us, it will help your back, and it looks so so so comfortable. Come on, we've not had new bedding in years. I've chosen this amazing bed, sheets that go perfectly with our room. There's a deal where they throw in extras, like a U shaped pillow and then......."

Dad cut her off mid-flow and shouted "OK! Do it! Let's get it!"

He relayed the conversation back to us and said he was really excited.

Weeks later when the bed finally arrived he stood watching her unwrap the parts. I was just outside the room. He waited for his cue and when she opened the U shaped pillow - boom - he hit it,

"It looks nothing like me!" He shouted.

He turned to me and winked "totally worth it" he grinned at me.

..............…

I was confused.

................

He said "when I heard about the U shaped pillow I was so sold on the joke I had to let her buy it all".

Yeah... Nice one dad........