The Injury Puns

That's their back story.

I told him “tread lightly”.

I went to the seafood disco last week but I came back early because....

I pulled a muscle.

Everyone will try to pick up where they left off.

Krakatoa

Turns out he tore N aCl

I suppose you could say he got to play because Drew bled so.

The others escaped with minor injuries.

It really confused me when HR told me it was a STD.

(This actually happened to me. HR emailed my insurance company telling them that I have a STD injury. Now I use the joke all of the time)

First off, not many people were buying tires, as they were driving less. Then the warehouse got robbed. To add insult to injury, the place caught on fire. For them it really hasn’t been a Goodyear.

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 of years ago, one night, I was about to propose to my girlfriend when my roommate Joseph barged into the porch out of nowhere, tripped and fell over, breaking a glass table with his face. Totally ruined the mood. Now, I didn't know Joseph THAT well, don't even remember where he was from, but let' just say I put my plans on hold to help him through his injuries.

Joseph had gotten big glass shard in his eye, making him completely blind in that eye. He was walking around with one of those cotton pads on his eye for a couple of months. Then suddenly, he disappeared, along with my girlfriend

Apparently they'd bonded during the time after his injuries, and eloped together , left me behind without as much as a note. I tried to track them down, but never could.

In conclusion, if it hadn't been for cotton eye Joe, I'd have been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, cotton eye Joe?

Dad pointed to a red area near the top of my knee that was obviously the injury and said “where does it hurt? Is it your high knee, (then he points much lower) or your low knee?”

I respond, “it’s my high knee.”

Dad says, “it’s your heinie??! I thought you hurt your knee!”

I remember being furious. I have now pulled this one on my five year old, and I can’t wait until my one year old is old enough to be on the receiving end of it as well.

One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge of me and my brother who is four years older than I am. I was maybe 1 and a half years old and had just recovered from an accident in which my arm had been broken among other injuries.

Someone had given me a little 'tea set' as a get-well gift and it was one of my favorite toys. Daddy was in the living room engrossed in the evening news and my brother was playing nearby in the living room when I brought Daddy a little cup of 'tea', which was just water. After several cups of tea and lots of praise for such yummy tea, my Mom came home. My Dad made her wait in the living room to watch me bring him a cup of tea, because it was 'just the cutest thing!!' My Mom waited, and sure enough, here I come down the hall with a cup of tea for Daddy and she watches him drink it up, then says, 'Did it ever occur to you that the only place that baby can reach to get water is the toilet??'

At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.

One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.

The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.

The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.

In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.

A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.

The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.

After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.

The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."

Luckily the injuries are only super fish oil.

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

Ok, but I'd rather you hop real slow. Bathroom falls account for the majority of home injuries.

She enters a ward full of patients, and notices that they’re all dressed in street clothes and have no obvious sign of injury or illness. The Queen approaches a patient and greets him. The patient replies:

“My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart’s in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer.”

The Queen is confused, but smiles and moves on to greet the next patient. The patient responds:

“Some hae meat an’ canna eat, And some wad eat tha’ want it, But we hae meat an’ we can eat, so let the Lord be thankit.”

Even more confused, and smiling even more broadly, the Queen moves on to the next patient who immediately begins to chant:

“My love is like a red, red rose that’s newly sprung in June; My love is like the melody that’s sweetly played in tune.”

Now very confused, the Queen turns to the accompanying doctor and asks, “Is this a psychiatric ward?”

“No, Your Majesty,” replies the doctor. “This is the serious Burns unit.”

A guy had a metal skid dropped on his foot, severing all his toes. To add insult to injury, while he was recovering in the hospital, he was served divorce papers by his wife's lawyer. No one was really all that surprised, though; she's lactose intolerant.

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

Made an account just to share this. My dad is paraplegic--he broke his neck at a college wrestling tournament when he was 19. There's a story my mom always tells about him that just sums up how he can be so lighthearted even in the darkest of circumstances.

During his long stay at the hospital immediately after his injury, a nurse checks in on him, making sure his condition hasn't gotten any worse.

She asks, "Can you hear okay?"

He says, totally deadpan, "No, I can see fine."

Even then, lying in a hospital bed after a life-altering injury, my dad couldn't give up an opportunity to make someone laugh.

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!”

I hurt my knee very badly the other day, and I'm sitting on the couch when my father comes home and sees my injury. After I explained what happened, he nods and pats my head. "Let me know if you need anything."

We were reviewing different forms of traumatic injuries in my EMT class such as traffic collisions, gun shot wounds, and resulting effects and treatments for the injuries when my teacher pulls this one on us:

Teacher: "So what would come after falls then?"

Student: "Spinal immobilization?"

Teacher: "Winters."

Edit: some words

I work in a hospital. I was working with a patient who had a few injuries on only the left side of his body. Just before I left his room, the sentence "You know, if we just cut off the left side of your body, you'll be all right." slipped out of my mouth. The nurses all looked at me with disappointment.

My Dad had a brain injury resulting from a fall and was in a nursing home for a year till he passed away. One of the things we both loved were "Dad jokes" and puns. When I visited him in the nursing home it was often a one way conversation. I would just ramble on not sure if he could hear me or understand me, but it didn't matter. One day I arrived and sat with him while he stared into the distance and I said, "Gees Dad you should see the weather outside it's raining cats and dogs and I damn near stepped in a poodle." He turned to me slowly and grinned and said, "That's an ollllllld joke", then he turned away and disappeared again. But for a few seconds he was there.....all of him. The power of Dad jokes. I miss him.

I went to the doctor with a hand injury from playing football (in the British sense). I hyper extended my thumb and I have a weird lump on the side. He said there's not much to be done about it. I asked how long the pain might last. He said...

"About two or three months... As a rule of thumb"

Bravo!

I had some pain in my side, so i figured i'd rather be safe than sorry, so I went to the ER. The physician was doing an ultrasound to check for internal injuries, and he was like, "so that's your spleen, we check for this black line right there. This here is your kidney, which looks fine." and I replied "You gotta be kiddin-ney."

my mom thought it was funny as hell.

Doctor, to my partner about her injury: Do you have any other fingers?

Me: Well, she's got nine others, but it's only the one that's bothering her.

Hickory Dickory Dock

Three mice ran up the clock,

The clock struck one,

And the other two got away with minor injuries.

ISN'T THAT HILARIOUS

Dad: So a Doc walks into a bar and asks for a Daiquiri. The bartender serves him and the doc says "this is terrible! It tastes like hickory!" The Bartender replies, "Yeah, it's a Hickory Daiquiri Doc!" (like the children's rhyme)

Me: groans

Dad: What was the actual words of it again? I forget.

Me: Hickory Dickory Dock, the mice ran up the clock.

Dad: Oh yeah. Hickory Dickory Dock, the mice ran up the clock. The clock struck one... and the other two escaped with minor injuries.

Giles was quite sickly and prone to injury, but that did not stop him from studying the scriptures diligently and preparing his mind and body for an ascetic lifestyle. Eventually, he travelled to Rome and got admitted into a monastery, fulfilling his lifelong dream.

He now goes by Fra Giles.

This happened earlier today. The class was on the topic of crash costs and financial responsibilities.

Teacher: If a crash is determined to be your fault, then you are responsible for paying for injuries sustained by others, and damage to property. But there are some places that have an exception, like in the state of Florida, it's considered a "no fault state".

Me: Couldn't you consider California a pretty faulty state?

Whole classroom: -laudable groans-

I lead the worship team at church and I'm the only one with a key to the instrument room. I went to get the key and when I came back, my keyboardist was banging his head on the door over and over.

I said, "were you just gonna try breaking it down like that? I do have a key."

He replied, "well, I thought I was making good headway."

He may have a head injury. Also, he's in his fifties.

My sister and I were playing Mario Kart on the Wii U, and after her squeezing the Wiimote for 4 races, the imprint of the "2" button started to show on her finger.

Her: "Ow. It looks like I have a wii injury"

Me: "It looks pretty big to me"

At least I came in first.

So I was working at the summer camp my school district puts on today, and one of the students had an injury which involved an ice pack for treatment. She was sitting with her sister, who then stole the ice pack in an attempt to keep cool. I walk up to her, and I say, "Stealing an ice pack from your injured sister? That's cold."

Cue groaning

We had just finished reading True Grit, where (spoiler alert!!!) the protagonist loses her arm. She fell down a hole, broke it, and got bitten by a rattlesnake, so it couldn't be saved and had to be amputated.

I said that the doctor deserved a hand for being able to save her life despite the injuries, and one of my students asked if I plan these jokes ahead of time. "Nope," I replied, "they're off the cuff!"

The clock struck one.....the others escaped with minor injuries.

...and the other two escaped with minor injuries.