The Next Three Days Puns

A chef entered his kitchen one day struggling with holding onto a large pumpkin. He noticed three male sheep standing next to his oven. One of them had a collar on him with the letter “A” written on it. The second had a collar with “B” and the third had “C.” The chef didn’t know what to do with the sheep, and they were standing in front of the only place he could put the pumpkin down. He put the pumpkin on the first sheep’s head and nothing happened. He then put it on the second sheep’s head and again, nothing happened. He then put it on the third sheep’s head, and immediately the sheep started cooking a gourmet meal and swearing at anyone who passed by him.

That’s what happens when you put a gourd on ram C in the kitchen.

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

It took him three days to make it to the closest town. To his dismay, nobody in that town had a horse for sale. So he started walking to the next town. After three days the man, exhausted, started asking around and looking for a horse for sale.Again, nobody could help him.He did,however,stumbled upon a place that sold horses but the man in charge was fresh out.

"Sold my last one just yesterday,"he said."I do, however, have a brother that sells horses. He's about a day's walk west.He owns a corral. He might have a horse to sell you."

So, once again, he sets foot West to the next town and finds the mans brother.

"I heard you might have a horse for sale, he asks."

"Well, I have one, but he don't look so good."he replies.

"I don't care. I've been walking for darn near a week and I'm tired and exhausted. I'll take him."

So after the man pays for the horse, he hops on him takes off and the horse hits a tree and stops.

"Hey,"the man says." I think you sold me a blind horse.Fact is, I'm sure of it!"

"Sir, I told you he don't look so good."the man fires back.

He goes to court and is sentenced to death by the electric chair. Before going to the chair he asks for a banana, it is given to him and he sits down in the chair, the operator presses the button and... The chair does nothing, so he is let free. The next day he runs over two people, he once again is sentenced to death but this time he asks for two bananas. He is given them, when the operator presses the button, the chair does nothing, so he is set free once more. The next day he runs over three people, he is sentenced to death a third time but the operator says to him, no more bananas, this time you will die. So he sits down on the electric chair and the operator presses the button, but nothing happens, so for the final time, he is set free. Later he tells his friend, "it wasn't about the bananas, I'm just a bad conductor"

A boy was in love with a girl. Madly in love. He told his older brother, who suggested he ask her to the upcoming prom. So, that night, he went to her house with some flowers and chocolates and asked the girl to the prom.

She was overjoyed. She took the flowers and hugged him around the neck. When he went home, his brother told him he had to get ready. Prom was in only a week!

The next day, he traveled to a suit store. He picked out the perfect one. It would go perfectly with his date’s dress. He picked his up and went to check out. Unfortunately, it seems a lot of people were buying suits, as the line nearly went out of the store. He groaned, but anything for his love. After two long hours, he finally got his suit.

A couple days later, his brother suggested that he rent a limo. He and his brother went to rent one that evening. When they arrived, they discovered that there were nearly 50 people waiting to rent a vehicle. They waited for nearly three hours, but they were finally able to rent a limo for the big day.

The afternoon before the dance, he went to buy some flowers for his date. Unfortunately, the store seemed to be having a sale, and the checkout lines extended into the parking lot. He stomped his foot. “Why is it that every time I go to buy something, everyone else wants to buy it too?!” He begrudgingly waited for nearly four hour before walking out with a bouquet of roses.

That night, he rode in the limo to his date’s house. She got in, and they talked the entire trip. He presented her with the flowers, which she adored. Her dress was stunning, and went perfectly with his suit.

They arrived at the school and got out, arms linked. They walked inside, said hi to a couple of friends, and began dancing and enjoying the night.

About halfway through the dance, the boy was parched. He told his girl that he was going to get a drink. He walked over to the snack table and discovered that there was no punch line.

Once upon a time there were three little pigs, Pork Chop, Hambone, and Bacon.

The boys lived at home with their mother. One day their mother said, “I no longer have enough food to feed you boys, you need to go out on your own and find your fortunes.”

Not wanting to upset their mother they left the house together to seek their fortunes.

Several miles into their journey Bacon, the little pig everyone liked best, said, “Let’s build our houses here! This seems like a great place to start making our fortunes.”

Pork Chop and Hambone agreed. So they all began building their houses.

Pork Chop, the laziest of the bunch, decided to build his house out of straw, which he apparently stole from a nearby field. It was not a very sturdy building material, but Pork Chop didn’t care. All he wanted to do was play all day, and he didn’t want to spend too much time building.

Hambone was willing to work a bit harder and he decided to build his house out of sticks which he procured by de-limbing every tree within a 300 meter radius of their homestead.

Hambone and Pork Chop were happy. Now all they had to do was to play and sleep the rest of the day.

Now Bacon was a hard worker. He knew that his brothers had used bad materials and shoddy construction methods and he wanted to build the best house he could. He found several tons of bricks stacked in neatly ordered pallets in the forest which he decided to use for his building material. It took him several days, but when he was done Bacon had the best house on the homestead.

The next day a wolf, Scott Howard, happened upon the pig brothers and their new homestead. He spied the straw house and smelled Pork Chop inside and began to think to himself that Pork Chop would make a mighty fine meal, so Scott went and knocked on the door.

Scott said, “Little Pig! Little Pig! Let me in!”

Pork Chop replied, “No way José! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!”

Scott, undeterred by the reply says, “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your crappy straw house to the ground!”

Scott began to huff and puff. He was evidently having some sort of asthma attack, but after a few tugs from his handy dandy rescue inhaler, he was able to muster enough wind to blow Pork Chops straw house to the ground.

Pork Chop narrowly escaped Scott’s massive jaws. Scared, and now homeless, Pork Chop ran for the nearest shelter he could see. Hambone’s house.

Scott, undeterred, chased Pork Chop to his new hiding place. Scott was very pleas

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

My unit had a drill weekend and we were in the woods with only open toilets (no walls or stalls, just three toilet seats next to either.) After the second day one of the officers asked, "Is there a private shiter around here?" I responded with, "I haven't seen him but I'll look for him."

Funniest horse puns and jokes

A white horse walks into a pub and asks for a whisky. The landlord says: “Hey, we’ve got a whisky named after you.” The horse replies: “What, George?”

A horse trudges slowly into a pub and orders a drink. “Evenin’” says the barman, “why the long face?”

A horse walks into a smart cocktail bar. The doorman says: “Wait you can’t come in here without a tie.”The horse goes out to his car, looks in the boot and gets a set of jump leads, which he ties around his neck.He goes back in and says to the barman: “This alright?” The barman says: “Hmm, ok… but don’t be starting anything.”

A poorly-looking horse limps into a bar with a bandage round his head. He orders a glass of champagne, a vintage brandy and two pints of Guinness. He downs the lot and says to the barman: “I shouldn’t really be drinking this with what I’ve got?” “Why, what have you got?” “About £2 and a carrot.”

Which side of a horse has more hair? The outside What’s a horse’s favourite TV show? Neighbours

A racehorse owner takes his horse to the vet. “Will I be able to race this horse again?,” he asks The vet replies: “Of course you will, and you’ll probably win!”

Did you hear about the depressed horse? He told a tale of whoa!

A dead horse walks into a bar and orders a whisky.

“I’m sorry, sir,” says the barman. “We don’t serve spirits..

A talking horse walks into a bar and approaches the manager. “Excuse me, good sir,” the horse says, “are you hiring?” The manager looks the horse up and down and says, “Sorry, pal. Why don’t you try the circus?” The horse nickers. “Why would the circus need a bartender?”

Did you hear about the man who was hospitalized with six plastic horses inside him? The doctor described his condition as stable.

What did the horse say when it fell? “I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!”

Q. What does it mean if you find a horseshoe? A. Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

A man rode his horse to town on Friday. The next day he rode back on Friday. How is this possible? The horse’s name was Friday.

Why did the pony have to gargle? Because it was a little horse!

What did the horse say when it fell? I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!

What did the teacher say when the horse walked into the class? Why the long face?

What do you call a horse that lives next door? A neigh-bo

What you need to know: We have a grocery store called Dominick's.

Artie and Dominick grew up in the same neighborhood and were best friends. But after highschool, they parted ways.

20 years later, they bump into each other on the street and the friends have a happy reunion. They talk about their lives after they left their old neighborhood. Dominick is a very wealthy lawyer and Artie is a mobster. Artie turns to Dominick and says "If you need anything at all, I'll get it for ya. Just ask."

Dominick :Well there is one thing... Artie: Anything. Dominick: Well I can't stand my wife. Could you get rid of her? Artie: Of course! Dominick: Wait! You're my friend, I gotta pay you for this. Artie: I can't take your money. Dominick: I have to give you something! Artie: Fine, give me a dollar.

So Dominick hands him a dollar and tells Artie when he'll be at work. The next day, Artie slips into the house and strangles the wife but as soon as her body hits the ground, the maid walks in. So Artie strangles her too, but as soon as her body hits the ground, the butler walks in. Artie strangles the butler and then the police burst in.

The next day in the papers, the head line reads: "Artie Chokes Three for a Dollar at Dominick's"

The end. My dad was saying the other day he won't be able to tell that joke anymore because Dominick's (the store) is closing where we live.

Once upon a time Quasimodo was growing old and wanted to retire. Before he could, he had to hire someone new to ring the bells of the Church of Notre Dame in his place. He placed an ad in the newspaper but only one man showed up for the interview. This man happened to have no arms. The man begged Quasimodo to give him a chance, and that despite his appearance he could indeed perform the duties of the job. Quasimodo eventually caved and gave him a chance. The next day at 1:00 sharp they met in the bell tower. The man with no arms takes a wide stance near the edge of the room and charges directly towards the bell at a dead sprint. He smacks the bell squarely with his head and it produces a wonderful sonorous ring. Pleased with the results, Quasimodo tells him that if he can continue to ring the bell for the rest of the day he has the job. 2:00 passes and the man with no arms headbuts the bell twice, at 3:00 three times, and on and on until at 12:00 he produces only 11 rings before he was so disoriented and concussed that he charges right past the bell, over the railing, and falls to his death. The next day when the police investigate the mysterious death of an unknown man with no arms Quasimodo was asked if he knew anything about the dead man. He told them " I don't know his name, but his face sure rings a bell"

Backstory: Many years ago I was living on my own about 45 minutes away from my parents. I had a stable job but didn't make much money and was broke most of the time. I had an old beat up car that was my only form of transportation. I would always have mechanical issues with the car and finally one morning it decided it wouldn't start no matter what.

I sheepishly had to call in to work and explain the situation and let them know that I would have to take a sick day but would figure some way to get to work the next day. I called my dad and he offered to come pick the car up on his trailer and take it back to his garage to work on it and get it in shape to trade it in.

He drives to my apartment, we get the car on the trailer and we are headed back to his house. The whole ride there I'm pretty pissed off and depressed about the whole situation. I'm worried about finding a new car and how I'm going to afford it and what I'm gonna do if I can't get it running again.

Dad senses my mood and pretty much keeps quiet the whole time. We get about three blocks away from his house and he utters this gem.

"Man, this car won't get off my ass. He's been tailgating me for 45 minutes now."

This was the perfect thing to snap me out of my funk and break the tension. I absolutely lost it. Only a Dad Joke could make me realize how trivial the whole thing was. I have told this joke to others who didn't really think it was that funny, but to me at the time it was the greatest thing ever.

Thanks Dad.

Just days after my dad made some tri-tip my family had another get together which my brother-in-law brought some ridiculously good tri-tip. Definitely blew the my dad's stuff out of the water.

Me: "I have to tell you, your tri-tip was good but Nick's (brother-in-law) is next level"

Dad: "Well that may be true but I helped him by giving him advice. In fact, I gave him three pieces of advice. Thats why they call it tri-tip!"

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten

Dad: So how many climbs do you do in a day?

Tour guy: Today I have three. We've never had a full 24hrs, come close to it though. One day I started at 3am, and finished the next morning at 1am, we then had another tour at 3am.

Dad: I guess you could say that you almost bridged the gap.

On our way to Connecticut, my s/o and I saw this sign.

I couldn't help myself.

 

I laughed about it again 4 hours later.

     

         

I told three other people about it the next day.