The Little Hours Puns

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 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."

When he got to old man Johnson’s house the old man said “My yard doesn’t need any work, but my porch is in need of a coat of paint. I’ll pay you 50 bucks, and if you finish by sundown I’ll throw in a 50 dollar bonus”.

With a confused look on his face little Johnny accepted the offer and got to work.

Less than an hour later little Johnny knocked on old man Johnson’s door to collect his hundred dollars.

“All finished, that’ll be one hundred dollars”!

Noticing there wasn’t a single drop of paint on the porch the old man started quizzing little Johnnys integrity.

“Now little Johnny, are you absolutely positively one hundred percent sure you finished painting my porch”?

“I sure am! Oh and by the way that’s not a porch, it’s a Ferrari”!

Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.

So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.

He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.

As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.

She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.

This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.

When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.

This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.

The two couldn't be happier!

They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.

One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.

She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.

She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.

A shallot, if you will.

A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.

They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.

The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.

Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.

Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.

He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.

One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.

The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.

She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to

Okay, so this is my first post, so be gentle there. It s more a funny thing my dad did to mess with us than a dad joke. Our parents explained it to us , so i don t have the dialogues here. When we were little, my brother and I of course asked my parents how do we make babies, because we wanted a little bro or sis and they did not wanted us to get one. So we asked them how babies are made. They explained to us that you need 3 things ; a mother's belly , dad's seeds and a little bit of love. That was cute, they said that daddy had to put his seeds in mummy 's belly with the love. When we asked how, they told us to guess -this is why we thought babies were made by the bellybutton, they did really had fun with us- and then, finally, we asked them why they would not make us a little brother then. My father, had this brilliant idea to mess with us, which we sometimes did not notice, as we were little. He basically told us with a huge smile accros his face :" You know what ? If you find the good seeds, we'll make you one". My mother laughed but we took it seriously. We have apparently searched for hours even going in the basement, searching in mom's gardening seeds, ripping of the labels and bringing them to the parents to ask if these were the good ones . We eventually got fed up, and never asked my parents to have a sibling again.

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

Hi! My dad had a heart attack last week, then went home, less than 12 hours later was back in with a one in a million fluke chance that he'd have complication. He's been in for a week now and was told he is nothing short of a miracle. I'm pregnant and can't really go see him often in ICU because of the very very sick people, but I wanted to do something special and thought i'd ask here. He is pretty down about the whole thing, usually pretty active guy keeping himself busy but I would love to create a little book for him to cheer him up. Nothing crazy but maybe some great jokes to keep him on the cheery side I might include a little art for him too with the joke. Thanks everyone.

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

He wemt to his mum, who was doing work, and asked, "mum, whats the first letter of the alphabet?"

Mum: Shut up and go away!

Kid goes to his dad, who just got a perfect score in darts, and says: Dad, whats the second letter of the alphabet?

Dad: 180!!

Walks to older brother who was playing batman video games: whats the third letter of the alphabet?

Brother: na na na na na na na na BATMAN!

Walks up to younger brother playing with toys: whats the 4th letter of the alphabet?

Brother: driving my little red car.

Kid rolls up to school, ready to recite the first 4 letters of the alphabet.

Teacher: whats the first letter?

Kid: Shut up and go away!!

Teacher: HOW MANY HOURS OF DETENTION DO YOU WANT

Kid: 180!!

Teacher: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Kid: na na na na na na na na BATMAN

Teacher: HOW DO YKU THINK YOULL GET AWAY WITH THIS?!?

Kid: Driving my little red car

My dad called me out of my room, asked me what I was doing and I told him I was revising (insert quote marks around that for yourself if you'd like). He asks me to look in the car and there's a whole crate full of packets of salt that are all leaking. That sounds weird, and to be honest it is, but my dad works at a supermarket and gets to take home faulty merchandise so I though nothing of it. He asks me to move it all into the garage, so I do so.

Then he tells me: "Actually, put it in the shed". Now I'm confused since we don't have a shed, and so I asked him what he meant. He tells me, "The one in the old house". We own two houses - our first one, and our new one, so I thought alright that's enough; the house is a half-hour walk and I honestly cannot be bothered for him asking me to walk that half an hour whilst I could be revising so I get a bit mad and just tell him straight.

He gives me a little smile and just says "Don't get salty and start shedding tears, I'll do it then". He gives me a little smile and just walks off. I'm honestly so glad I'm moving away for uni next year.

The little shit slept for over 10 hours, what's he need another nap for?

When my Mum and her sisters were younger, in an attempt to keep them quiet for half an hour, he told them to sit down next to each other so he could do their portrait. Every now and again he would stop, look up and to ensure he had the correct scale, held out his thumb and squinted a little, then continued.

After half an hour they got restless and said "Are you done yet, let's see".

He turned the drawing pad around to show...a simple sketch of a thumb.

Not a Dad yet, but thankful to have this trick up my sleeve for when I am.

My aunt recently had a baby, and she was telling us about the experience the other day at a family get-together. How beautiful her little girl is, how amazing the experience was, yadda yadda. Then she told us about my uncle's reaction, which she was less than thrilled about.

When my uncle saw his daughter for the first time after my aunt had just labored for hours, he said:

"Damn, it's 2013, you'd think they'd have started making these things cordless by now."

Right after a large chicken dinner, my wife and I were sitting on the couch letting everything digest. A little flirting commenced, but we knew it wasn't going anywhere immediately b/c we were stuffed.

Wife: maybe a little later. Me: oh, is there a 2 hour wait between chicken and pork?

The groan was deafening. I regret nothing.

An old beekeeper had been raising bees for years. He'd had many bees he gave names to, like Buzz or Stripe or Sting. He got a kick out of naming them and he would spend hours with them crawling on his hands, looking at them, holding them gently and humming little songs.

One year, the hive had a new queen, and she was the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen. He usually gave them clever names like Honey, but this one was just too gorgeous for that. He named her Beauty, and he would hum to her everyday as the sun went down.

One day, during a particularly beautiful sunset, the old man was watching his queen as she peddled around in the palm of his hand, singing to her gently, when a gust of wind suddenly blew some debris toward his face. Without thinking, he reacted, moving his hands fast toward his face, and smashed the queen right into his own eye. And so I guess what they say is true, Beauty really is in the eye of the bee holder.

A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.

“Daddy, may I ask you a question ?”

“Yeah, sure, what is it ?” replied the man.

“Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?”

“That’s none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily.

“I just want to know.  Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?” pleaded the little boy.

“If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour.”

“Oh,” the little boy replied, head bowed.

Looking up, he said, “Daddy, may I borrow $9.00 please?”

The father was furious. “If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed.   Think about why you’re being so selfish.  I work long, hard hours every day and don’t have time for such childish games.”

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy’s questioning.  How dare he ask such questions only to get some money.

After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son.  May be there was something he really needed to buy with that $9.00 and he really didn’t ask for money very often.

The man went to the door of the little boy’s room and opened the door.  “Are you asleep son?” he asked.

“No daddy, I’m awake,” replied the boy.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier,” said the man.  “It’s been long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here’s that $9.00 you asked for.”

The little boy sat straight up, beaming.

“Oh, thank you daddy!” he yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills.  The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.

The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.

“Why did you want more money if you already had some?” the father grumbled.

“Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do,” the little boy replied.

“Daddy, I have $20.00 now.  Can I buy an hour of your time?”

The father looked upon his son with a smile as he walked towards the door and said "Overtime is double pay."

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!”

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

Sorry about being a little out of touch the past couple of months. My business partner bailed on me in January and I'm in the process of forming a new corporation with a couple of investors, hiring a new bookkeeper (my expartner's wife used to do that), arranging a storage facility, moving offices and re-organizing staff. It has been hectic.

Part of my business model is consulting. I recently had an experience that proves the value of consulting & demonstrates how consultants can make a difference in an organization. I was very impressed. I think this is a segment that I can develop with financial help.

Last week, I went out with some friends to a new restaurant (Steve's Bistro & Provisional Ales). I noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket. It seemed a little strange. When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I noticed that he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket. Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets. When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked about the spoon.

He told me that restaurant's owner had hired Andersen Consulting to revamp all of our processes. After several months of analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. Everyone started to carry a spoon & since the staff is better prepared now they reduced the number of trips back to the kitchen and are saving 15 man-hours per shift.

A few minutes later I dropped my spoon and & my waiter replaced it with his spare. (I think that he thought I was texting him). He said that he would get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right then. Pretty smart efficiency. These are the types of little changes I plan to make as we move forward.

As we finished dessert I noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter's fly. Looking around, I saw that all of the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. Before my waiter walked off, I asked the him, about the string. He lowered his voice & told me that not everyone is that observant. The consulting firm he had told me about also learned that the restaurant can save time on bathroom breaks. By tying the string to the tip of the penis, the male staff can pull the penis out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash their hands. This small change shortens the ti

I came home today to a dark house, quickly learned that the power had been out for hours. Walked into my roomate's bedroom, they're sitting on the bed.

Me: "So I hear you're feeling a little... powerless."

I swear on all things holy that at that very fucking moment the lights flickered on. We just sat there in disbelief for a moment. My puns are that god damned good. I must use the power well (stealth pun PSA: love the environment).

As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.

One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.

Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.

I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.

I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.

I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.

After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.

I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.

So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.

I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.

As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.

The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.

I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.

This joke has been told to me

I was using a ruler earlier in the day because I had to measure and cut something to very specific dimensions. It was a really tiny 6-inch ruler. A few hours later I was looking for it but couldn't find it at all and was starting to get pissed.

Me: Where the hell did it go? I had it two hours ago!

Mom: What are you looking for?

Me (shouting): the tiny little ruler!

From the other side of the house, my dad shouted: "Napoleon?"

Talking to a friend of mine who is at a marching band competition for her little brother.

>Me: Did you guys make it to the next round?

>Her: We find out in about an hour.

>Me: Yikes, that's stressful.

>Her: Yeah, and we have no idea where we stand.

>Me: Hopefully, on the field.

You're all invited to the baby shower.

Jim was working hard sawing wood. It was hot, his hands slippery with sweat and the saw slipped from his fingers and cut off all of his toes. No ambulences were available so he called a toe truck, but he got there too late. His toes could no longer be reattached. He could not walk right, so he could not work. He got workers comp but it wasn't enough. Worst of all, his wife was lack toes intolerant. She filed for separation. He looked online for solutions to his problems and found a post telling him where he may find an answer. It said "Go to the forest late at night and wait in the glade. There you will find the Great Toed. He is wise in these matters." Having nothing to lose he followed the instructions and reached the glade spoken of. There was a line drawn that said "wait here." And wait he did for over an hour, and just as he was about to leave, a many toed toad toed the other side of the line with a bag in tow. "Ask your question," it said in a raspy voice. So Jim related his tale of toe woes. After listening the many toed toad replied "Have you tried the supermarket?" Jim wondered how a supermarket would help but decided to give it a try. He went the next morning and walked down aisle after aisle and then he found it: The supermarket was giving away free toes. Elated, he grabbed as many bags of them as he could and checked each one. He found enough that fit, but needed to attach them. He went back to the glade for help getting the new toes attached, and the toad was happy to help. He helped attach the new toes and jim ran off (little did Jim know that the toad croaked soon after) He was able to walk normal again, his wife came back, he got his job back and everyone lived happily ever after.

Oh the punch line? It's over there by the table.

My mom, my dad, and I started our journey across the US together in a Uhaul today. My mom likes to freak out. While in traffic, this happened.

Mom: Oh my god, why are we stopping?

Dad: Just a little bit of congestion.

Me: cough

Dad: Very good.

Me: Thanks.

Moments like these make a 26 hour drive cramped in a Uhaul together worth it.

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

When I was little, my family and I (from Texas) went to Toronto for a visit. My mother told me we were going to go to the Eaton Centre. After about an hour there, I got frustrated and yelled "If this is the eatin' centre, when are we gonna eat?!"

We're on a road trip to visit my grandparents, from Texas to Tennesse (10 hours). We stopped in Little Rock for Chickfila. When we get out of the car, it's pretty cold. Dad says, "They should call it Antarkansas". Oh, Dad. :|

I recently joined a CSF - a community supported fishery. Once a week, I'll pick up a filet of freshly-caught salmon, a bag of shellfish, or other such delights from the Pacific Ocean and bring it home to my darling wife and children to much joy (or anguish, depending on who you're asking.)

You get to choose your pick-up spot, and I chose a location close to my office, so I could swing by on the way home; it's a nautical-themed bar, appropriate for such a business transaction. "Go to the bartender and ask for the fish", say the instructions; so I did, and he handed me the catch of the day. Gleaming white filets, glorious they were. Then I met a friend of mine, and after chatting for a little while, I went home.

"Jack," says my wife, "what took you so long? You should have been home an hour ago!"

"Sorry," I said. "I stopped by the bar, just for the halibut."

The other day I was working at a restaurant as a cook. Someone ordered a salad that typically has a sliced egg on it with extra egg salad on top. As I made it, I looked over to my coworker and said, "this is a little EGG-sessive."

We spent the next 2 hours making egg puns.

We were in the car when my little brother asks why the 405 freeway is called the 405. Dad replies,"It's called the 405 because it takes 405 hours to get anywhere!" Many a groan were had that day.

Whenever we're going somewhere that requires a substantial amount of driving time (at least two hours) my family stops at a McDonalds or something for food. My dad will always order a coffee and be a little unclear about his order so the server will have to ask if he wants sugar in his coffee to which he will reply "no thanks, I'm sweet enough".

I work in a kitchen and I had just pulled a freshly baked lasagna out of the oven when my coworker walks by:

Coworker: Did that lasagna just come out?

Me: Yes it did and it's a little shy around other lasagnas at the moment but if you give it some time I'm sure it will gain the confidence it needs.

I had a smirk on for at least the next hour after that.

A while ago I was sat down to dinner with my family, a delicious meal as it always is, ta very much Mum. Throughout dinner and the usual post-dinner chatter Dad had been muttering "My my myyyy Delilah..." to himself. Usually you can ignore a bit of a quiet singsong someone outside of a conversation is having to themselves but every 10-15 minutes he'd go "My my myyyy Delilah...". A good 2 hours after starting our dinner my sister feels the need to ask "Dad, why do you keep singing my my my delilah? Was there a song on the radio or something?". Dad gives a confused little look and goes "Hmmm? What? Oh dear oh dear oh dear... It's actually a medical problem. I went to the doctor about it recently" then raises his head trying to conceal that grin that we all know and dread. "He said I had Tom Jones Syndrome. I asked if it was common. He just shrugged and said it's not unusual". I gave him two thumbs up and a look of respect, most of the table gave a horrified groan. 2 Hours! the dedication on that man!

I asked this family where they had come from as I moved their luggage. They told me they had driven somewhere around 12 hours that day and were very ready to just go to bed.

But as they got to the door the Father stopped abruptly in front of all of us and said, "Oh no! We can't stay here. The sign says 'Service dogs only'."

To which his whole family died a little on the inside and I rolled on the ground laughing.

The bus ride to the station had been very stressful. I spent the entire time worrying if the bus even stopped at the train station. I ended up spending nearly an hour making two loops around the city before I finally realized that I had to hop off near the station. Public transport. Jesus.

I'd missed the train I wanted to catch due to my hour-long bus ride, so I had some time to kill before the next one arrived. It had been cold and raining when I left in the morning, but by lunch time it was warm and I was sweating, standing on the station in a big yellow hoodie and jeans.

I had overslept and skipped breakfast earlier, so I resolved not to let the loud farts coming from the old man next to me kill my appetite. I was desperate for a snack.

Initially the vending machine told me it would accept "EXACT CHANGE ONLY". Slightly annoying, but no real problem: I just fished out my change, inserted some alternative coins and punched in the number. I watched the object of my desire inch forwards, ready to drop into the bottom where I could collect it. For some reason I was terrified that it might get stuck. Robbed by a robot, how embarrassing. Luckily the packet fell into the tray. Finally something was going my way.

As I reached into the bottom of the machine and pushed open the metal door, it suddenly stuck. It was wedged in place and the gap was too small for my snack to fit through. "Motherfucker..." I whispered under my breath.

But I was too invested to give up now. Determined not to be beaten by a bloody machine, I pulled hard and the packet burst, spilling chips into the tray. I managed to salvage about half of the crisps and ate them greedily. Partially crushed, but still deliciously cheesy.

At this point it occurred to me that perhaps I should tell the station operator that the vending machine was broken. I walked up to the ticket office and saw a bored, tired looking man in his forties. "I just thought I'd let you know the vending machine is jammed," I announced.

The attendant got up, walked over over to the vending machine and gave it a solid kick, dislodging the little metal door which had foiled me. When he turned to me again his expression had changed from boredom to amusement. "So what flavour was it then? Strawberry?"

I groaned, but couldn't resist a smile.

I knew it was going to be a good day.