The Thumb Puns

I'm in glove with you!

They forgot the punchline

She said I would

I said that’s good I couldn’t play it before.

They were brothers in arm.

But thankfully it was just like riding a bike!

It’s quite well known that the Ancient Greeks championed Hummus Texturality

on the other hand, it might be on the right side.

Thumb thumb THUUUMB!

Said to my kids after showing them this:

https://www.theverge.com/circuitbreaker/2017/7/6/15927362/3d-printed-prosthetic-third-thumb-dani-clode

...which is just plain awesome regardless!

In other words, a consistent rule of thumb.

Let that sink in.

After she makes and edits her video she starts to take pictures of her hands. Her mom walks by seeing this and asks "Why are you taking so many pictures of your thumbs?". The blond girl replies " If you want people to watch your YouTube videos you gotta have great thumbnail pictures."

After discovering he'd been given a parking ticket, the giant exclaimed in disappointment as he approached his house. This startled a burglar inside, causing him to flee from the property but not before trapping his stubby digit in the door, causing him to leave blood at the scene. Thankfully, the giant's powerful nasal abilities allowed him to aid police as he was able to detected the exact nationality and gender of the robber in question. When interviewed, the giant simplified the story for us by saying,

"Fee, Fie, Foe, Thumb, I smell the blood of an English Man."

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

Wife: "Look, they used to treat pain with willow bark".

Me: "I'll give that one 3 stars".

Wife: "This one is about the invention of antibiotics".

Me: "I'll give it 8 out of 10".

Wife: "Apparently, they used give people cowpox to protect them from smallpox".

Me: "Definitely 2 thumbs up".

Wife: "Why do you keep doing that?".

Me: "I'm the curator of this museum"!

http://imgur.com/gallery/3GUE8

This was a group text from me to both of the kids. The younger was born exactly nine months from the Tuesday in question. The older one responded with a thumbs down.

Because the thumbs always oppose.

The Hulk, because he has a green thumb.

But the flag is a big plus.

Because they don't have thumbs to operate the bell.

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.

So I heard about a handsome thief who got caught recently. Yeah, they say he was pretty light-fingered, but he got caught redhanded trying to palm some seeds. Guess he had a bit of a green thumb. Anyway, he was a-wristed by the long arm of the law, with not a shoulder to cry on. I was shocked; his appearance was so disarming.

...until today when I caught him texting with both his thumbs.

Being the sarcastic smart are son of his, I asked " when did you learn to type with both thumbs?" he smiled and happily replied: "The day I learned I was Ambi'text'rous".

He laughed for about 5 minutes and proceeded on to tell mum and my brother about his funny pun

Good one dad.

It was the third annual Thumb Drive.

When I was 6-7, my dad would touch his thumb and index finger together in a circle and ask "can you poke your head through this hole?" I would honestly try to figure out a way to fit my head through the circle, or, at least how he managed to do it.

When I gave up, he'd put the circle up to his forehead and poke himself with his other hand's index finger.

I cut my finger open and didn't notice it.

Dad: "Hey, you cut your finger pretty bad there."

Me: "I did? Didn't notice. I lost feeling in that one a few years ago when I cut it open at the base."

Dad: "I lost sensation in my thumb after I did the same thing, so I know the feeling... Or do I?"

Driving to the store.

Me: "The tires feel kind of flat. Should probably stop at a gas station and increase the pressure."

Dad: "We have to be careful, though. Too much pressure and they'll get nervous."

Going to the Cheesecake Factory.

Me: "We have to take the bridge, right?"

Dad: "Yeah, but we're gonna have to give it back afterwards."

Goddammit, dad.

Dealing with a potentially sick four month old, trying to decide if he's got a cold or allergies.

Me: "Has his snot been clear or colored?"
Wife: "It hasn't been colored."
Me: "Well that's good, it's probably just allergies, then."
Wife: "Yeah, I guess you could say we're... in the clear."

I just looked at her in shock as she gave me the smuggest grin and a thumbs up.

My friends grandfather would always ask him the same joke for 30 years till he passed. Want to see me wiggle my ear? And then he would hold his hand up in a fist and wiggle his thumb. Then walk away laughing. WHAT IS THE JOKE?!!?!

Husband: Where are we going to put it? Me: In the house. Husband: Where in the house? Me: On the floor.

Then I gave him a super cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

For a little bit of background information, my dad suffers from multiple system atrophy and got a high fever, which turned out to be from a bad urinal tract infection. He has been at the hospital for almost 2 weeks now, and it is really hard on our family, but he is doing his best to get better and throws this small dad joke to lighten me and my brothers day.

A Speech Therapist comes every day to help him focus on his muscles in his face to help him swallow and speak clearer with simple gestures of noises and deep breathing. As she was done with his exercises, she said to him "Can you say goodbye, have a nice day! in a long sentence?" (As in one breath with no pauses). My dad then takes a look at me and my brother and says in his slurred voice "goodbye... have a nice day... in a long sentence".

The Speech Therapist just smiled and shook her head while we facepalmed...

Thumbs up Dad, I know you will come home soon!

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

I'm not usually one for bars, but since the smoking ban in Illinois, they're not so bad. I'm not much of a drinker either, but this one place in particular offers free soft drinks for designated drivers of groups of three or more. You have to get them from a location separate from the bartender. You declare yourself upon entering the place, then your hand is marked, and from that point, you're not allowed alcohol, but you get the free soft drinks.

Their specialty is their own brand of a mixed fruit drink that's really good. It's popular enough that you're usually standing behind six or seven people to wait your turn. So, Saturday night, while I'm waiting for mine, this cute blonde walks up behind me. I figured I'd try to be witty and asked her, "Can I buy you a drink?"

She scowled at me with, "Well aren't you the funny one?"

"What's with the attitude?" I asked her.

"Sorry," she said. "It's them." And she thumbed toward a table with (would you believe it?) a brunette and a redhead.

"Why?" I asked. "What'd they do?"

"I'm just getting sick of it," she said. "Every time we come here, it's always me in the punch line."

He asks the class, "what does this mean", while still holding the thumb tack above his head. We sit there puzzled for a moment until he says "It means I'm under a tack."

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!

So my wife is learning sign language in college and will come home excited about all the stuff she has learned and will try to teach me. The only thing I've retained so far is yes and no. So when I ask her something that she wants to say no to, she'll sign it (thumb, index, and middle finger spread out, and then closing, like squishing a bug). I'll reply to this with just the opposite, opening those three fingers. That is not the correct sign for yes, the correct sign is like knocking on a door. Well when she does that to correct me, I yell "Who's there?!"

She's going to divorce, I just know it.

A patient had broken her thumb and was complaining about difficulty using electronics. I said something to the effect of "I guess you'll have to learn how to be more ambidextrous"

And the doctor replied "I think they call that ambiTEXTrous"

I cringed, I laughed. Mostly cringed though.

Yesterday, my dad was talking to a colleague on the phone, and I heard him say "I can't find the footnote, it should say 'edited by [another colleague's name]'". So I got a marker, wrote the information on my foot, went up to him and said "I found the footnote" and showed him my foot. I got a thumbs up and a grin. Success.

Today at the local toys'r'us with my SO and the kids. We approach two teenagers restocking the shelves from a pallet full of cardboard boxes. I hear one of them ask the other if she has seen the knife. The other says no, an I notice they're searching for it. As we pass i ask if "they're looking for one of them retractable knifes?"

Her: "Yes"

Me: "I think i saw a kid running around with it over there" *points with thumb over my shoulder

Her:...-...! *face turns white

My SO: I'm sorry he's joking. Arrrg! 2rgeir can't I take you anywhere?

Me: *snickering

"The first day is meant to be the hardest, you stick out like a sore thumb"

On the other hand, it might be on the right