The Truth Is... Puns

They are just a bunch of tomfoolery.

What, the actual Fuck.

I was told a long time ago your true friends will be honest with you, especially if it's not something that will hurt your feelings really bad.

So this life long joke of "kansaw" was only ever corrected by boyfriends, best friends, and family. Others were people thinking i meant "warsaw" in which i frantically said oh no no no!

I made a point to be say this one main line like "omg can a tornado in kansaw just suck me out of this"

"Maybe i should move to Kansaw where its just wind and tornadoe shelters"

I tried to make it come up organically as possible though.

But the other times where people said nothing, some of these people good friends, now have a joke behind my back but i had it behind their backs first....

Life is fun

It’s F=G(m1m2)/r^2

Son: I know Mum already told me. She also said that uncle Mike is the stork.

... and you still hate him now. But now he's an official resident of Florida and I may see him differently now. I've seen a lot of hate thrown his way, but this guy is a consistent winner and an overachiever. That's what the people who support him love about him. Yes, there have been some scandals. Yes, there have been some lies and maybe a few times he's twisted the truth to make himself look better. He's out there everyday proving those haters wrong time after time. Call it jealously, call it envy. Some people just can't handle how successful he is and how much money he has. They could even be jealous that he's got a hot, foreign model as his wife. You may not have wanted him in this role, but he's there now and there is nothing you or I can do about it. I know it'll possibly get worse over the next several days, but like him or not, Tom Brady is turning things around in Tampa Bay.

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

But the truth is, I've a terrible sense of direction.

I always get lost in my thoughts.

The truth is, it's genetic. I actually come from a long line of dads spanning many generations.

A woman and her 12-year-old son were riding in a taxi in Detroit. It was raining and all the prostitutes were standing under awnings.

"Mom," said the boy, "what are all those women doing?"

"They're waiting for their husbands to get off work," she replied.

The taxi driver turns around and says, "Geez lady, why don't you tell him the truth? They're hookers, boy! They have sex with men for money."

The little boy's eyes get wide and he says, "Is that true Mom?"

His mother, glaring hard at the driver, answers, "Yes."

After a few minutes the kid asks, "Mom, if those women have babies, what happens to them?"

She said, "Most of them become taxi drivers."

But the truth is, he puts the Steelers at risk of getting penalties all game long...

...Because on every play...

There's fowl on the field.

But the truth is, I can't stand it.

Link to post

But really, the truth is that it’s all in the delivery.

DEAR NEIGHBOUR: Hi, Fred, this is Richard, next door. I've got a confession to make. I've been riddled with guilt for a few months & have been trying to get up the courage to tell you face-to-face. At least I'm telling you in this text, & I can't live with myself a minute longer without your knowing about this. The truth is that, when you're not around, I've been sharing your wife, day & night. In fact, probably much more than you.
I haven't been getting it at home recently, & I know that that's no excuse. The temptation was just too great. I can't live with the guilt & hope you'll accept my sincere apology & forgive me. Please suggest a fee for usage, & I'll pay you. Regards, Richard

NEIGHBOUR'S RESPONSE: Fred, feeling very angry & betrayed, grabbed his gun, went next door, & shot Richard, killing him. He went back home, shot his wife, poured himself a stiff drink & sat down on the sofa and calmed down. Fred then looked at his phone & discovered a 2nd text message from Richard.

2ND TEXT MESSAGE: Hi, Fred.
Richard here again. Sorry about the typo on my last text. I expect you figured it out & noticed that the darned Auto-Correct had changed "wi-fi" to "wife".
Technology, huh? It'll be the death of us all.

But the truth is, bee comedians make a pheromone of money.

My wife and I welcomed our new daughter this week. The wife wanted some classic rock while she was pushing. We were all there, the doctor, the main nurse (with whom we were joking all day long) and a few other nurses. This was the moment of truth.

Suddenly, the Scorpions' "Rock you like a hurricane" comes on, and my wife exclaims: "This is exactly what I need to pump me up!! She is going to be a Scorpion!"

To which I replied "Actually, she'll be a Sagittarius"

The nurse looked at me surprised, cracked up, the wife rolled her eyes, and a few breaths later my daughter was born.

I have never been prouder to be a dad.

So I had to pack up a bowl at work today and while i was doing so i annoyed my coworkers with every bowl based pun i could think of

"Hey guys, if we put doritos in here would they have a BOWLder flavor"

"If i lost all my hair would I have gone BOWLD"

"we could fill this with rocks and call this a BOWLder"

"I really like the music of David BOWLie"

"we can slide this at some pins and call it BOWLing"

"what if we were sending this back to BOWLing green Kentucky"

"we can fill it with air and call it a BOWLoon"

"I'm just trying to fit in guys, all i wanna do is BOWLong"

"Of course i think you're telling the truth, i guess you can say I BOWLieve you"

I came home from work the other night and as I walk in Better Man by Pearl Jam is on the stereo, and my wife is setting out a nice juicy steak for me.

I looked her right in the eye's and told her truthfully that "It doesn't get Eddie Veder than this"

She punched my shoulder...

EDIT: I somehow JUST saw the Mod Sticky post from last week, where a lot of users have expressed similar sentiments to these. I apologize to the mods if this is not appropriate and respect your decision if you want to delete it. I just wanted to see if people were thinking the same kind of thing. Still, read it if ya like.

It used to be that /r/dadjokes was a place to post actual stories of real dad humor. 'My dad pulled out this groaner at dinner.' 'Just became a dad...I think I get it now!' These are the things that warm my heart and tickle my corny bone. And I don't think I'm alone.

Now, we're arrogant enough to think we know the formula for dad humor, so we can post anything reminiscent of it, and it counts as a dad joke. It's as if we think we own dad humor now, and we can bend it and shape it at will.

Let me tell you, folks. WE DO NOT OWN DAD HUMOR.

Even the dads among us don't own it. I think the universe just channels it through them in brilliant, glorious, involuntary sneezes. Some are more deft than others, and are seen by the universe as more worthy outlets. But they do not own it.

We can get close to elusive heart of dad humor, we can approach it, we can dance around it...but we can never touch it. This is where I take issue with posts like this one, which currently has over 4000 upvotes and 2000 net karma. Is it reminiscent of dad-like punly-ness? Would a dad chortle heartily at reading it? Yes, almost certainly yes. But does that make it a dad joke? No...I would argue not.

Dad jokes are also not just about the jokes themselves. They're about the response--that he manages to be surprised at his own genius, even on the eightieth repetition. They're about the face-palms and straight stares of family members. What is a dad joke without context?

My proposed solution: ban link/image posts. I wish it wouldn't have to come to that, but I can't see another way to get back on track to the real goal here. I have hover zoom--I understand the desire for instant gratification. I've skipped over interesting looking videos because they required a click.

But that's not why I come here.

I understand that there are legitimate dad jokes transmitted via text, or perhaps requiring a bit of visual context. At this point, though, I think they are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause. They can always be transcribed into text, or included in a self-post. Maybe it seems a bit extreme, especially in the face

I was 16 and had found a small cyst (marble sized) in my scrotum. My regular Doc. had referred me to a Urologist, my dad came along "for support"

Dr: Hello, I'm Dr. so and so, what brings you in to see me?

Dad: Well it's my son here, apparently he has grown a third testicle.

Dr: I see, if that's case, the truth is you don't need me, you need to get your son an agent!

In the tarot bowl. A threatening bovine on one of these cards is the terror bull. The cards are made out of paper, so they're tearable. When you take the cards out of the bowl, the bowl is now tare-able. But truth be told, this long pun is terrible.

First off, I'm new here. I've only been a dad for a few years but, I'm not sure i'll ever be able to top this and the circumstances of the set up were so chance and specific, I will never be able to use this again. This is what inspired me to seek you out and tell my story.

So, like most thanksgivings, we went to a relatives house and had very large but unusually early dinner. We went home and by nine or ten o'clock we had the little one off to sleep and my wife and I were getting hungry and wanted something simple. She asked for fast food and I was willing to oblige.

I drove to Taco Bell and it was closed. I called my wife, "sorry Taco Bell is closed. What do you want from BK?". I then drove to BK and discovered it was also closed. Called the wife "Sorry honey, BK is closed. What do you want from McDonald's?". You might see were this is going and, if you haven't already guessed it, Micky D's was closed too."Ok, I'm just going to the gas station. What do you want?" She asked for cheddar fries and I was willing to oblige. Got in side, no cheddar fries! I grab her funyuns. She like funyuns, it will be fine. As a joke (not the one we are leading up to) I called her on my way home and told her the gas station was closed too.

I got home, told her the truth about the gas station and gave her the back up back up back up back up back up plan bag of funyuns. She joked around about the number of times I had failed her in one outing (keep in mind, I had been giving her a hard time through this whole event) and then asked me for a soda from the fridge. So is This when the magic happened. I was opening the fridge when the gravity of the situation and what was at stake here suddenly struck me. I closed the fridge, got out a glass and filled it with water. I brought it back to her in the living room. She says "why did you bring me water?"

THE FRIDGE WAS CLOSED!

My parents visited me last weekend. Short on ideas, we decided to hit up a widely-respected art museum. They had some new exhibitions, some of which were a little outside our personal tastes and expectations.

We walked into a photography exhibit and saw, along one wall, a sheet of green. This sheet of green was a little higher and taller than the average door, and stretched all the way down that bit of wall plus a few feet onto the floor.

"Oh," I said, "a green screen. That's kind of a neat little thing to have here. Sort of an homage to that style of film, I guess?"

Little did I know. In hindsight, I don't know why I expected anything different.

My father and I approached the plaque beside it. There we learned the truth: This was not a green screen. No. No, this was a specially printed photograph.

A photograph... of a green screen.

There we stood, astonished at the audacity of the thing before us. "My God," I said aloud, "This, right here, this is something else. This is just plain genius. Can you imagine getting money for something like this? Why didn't we come up with this? This is gold!"

To which my dad simply responded, "No, son...

... it's green."

• Knock Knock!
• Who's there?
• Hike!
• Hike Who?
• "No one at the door. The grisly truth is out now: You are all alone."

As I stare at the cheese aisle, I'm trying to decide what looks Gouda for my Munster appetite— each cheese goating me to choose it. The truth is, I don't know Jack about cheese selection. But then I realize I Havarti made my choice. I'll go with cheddar, because it has Provolone-standing favorite of mine. Now I better stop this Brie-fore it gets too cheesy.

True story—happened today. Hardy har harlsberg.

Dog is sitting patiently in the kitchen, waiting for me to drop some ham for him.

Wife: No dog, you don't get any ham.

Me: Yeah I tried hiding it from him but unfortunately... he nose the truth!

I tap my nose with a shit-eating grin... wife rolls her eyes and walks away