A list of puns related to "The Way He Looks"
There was, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.
“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”
“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.
“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”
“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”
His students registered dismay and anguish.
“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.
“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.
“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”
Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi
... keep reading on reddit ➡They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡... 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.
So I'm proud to say I made my first dad joke not even 5 min after my son way born.
After he came out, the doctor weighed my son. Doctor said "wow look at the size of those hands!".
Which I had to reply instantly " you know what they say about babys with big hands eh?!?" .... "big gloves" !!
To whole room cracked up and my women just sighed and said. "Really.."
She grabs a cup of hot cocoa and watches through the window as he fills the bucket up with water and races from the back of the house all the way out to the front yard and out of sight. She bundles up and goes outside to get a closer look and sees that he’s cleared the snow from the sidewalk. She watches as he takes his bucket of water and pours it out on the cold concrete. She’s puzzled for a second and then says:
Icy, what you did there.
Bump…
Bump…
Bump…
Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home. The casket still bouncing quickly behind him.
Faster…
Faster…
FASTER…
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
He runs up to his door, fumbles with the keys, opens the door, rushes in and slams and locks the door behind him.
Rushing up the stairs to his bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding. His head is reeling. His breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him.
The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is cough syrup!
Desperate, he throws the cough syrup as the casket!
And…
The coffin stops….
My oldest this morning as he brushed by me on the way to the bathroom:
“I have to take a pee”
Me:
“Why don’t you leave one instead?”
The look I got: “🤨”
He scored a home run every single at bat, and always the exact same way. Way over right field, too high for anyone to reach, and it always landed in exactly the 17th row of the stands, give or take a couple feet.
He earned the nickname “the machine” for how consistently he hit the exact same spot every time. Right field, 17th row, every single time. He did this for 20 years before he retired. Tickets to the 2-3 seats that the ball always landed on sold for over $2k a pop by the time he retired because you were guaranteed at least a couple home run balls.
And the day he retired a reporter asked him “How does it feel to be retiring as the greatest hitter of all time?”
Hugh just looked at the reporter puzzled. “What do you mean?” He said.
The reporter clarified “literally over 5,000 times you went to the plate and hit a home run to right field, 17th row of the stands!”
Hugh looked dejected and disappointed “yeah, my greatest failure...”
“What do you mean?” Said the reporter incredulously.
Hugh let’s out a long sigh, and looked down at the ground quietly for a moment before finally speaking.
“I’ve been aiming left this whole time”
A man named Dave comes home very drunk late at night...
So this guy has been drinking with his buddies all night and he's as drunk as a skunk, gets home, falls up the stairs, undresses and goes to bed next to his wife. He falls asleep and next thing he knows, bang, he dies and finds himself waiting at the pearly gates.
The guy refuses to believe this is happening, he says to St. Peter: "This can't be possible, I'm a healthy man! This is not the way I die. You have to let me return down there!"
The guy can see St. Peter looks like he's feeling sorry for him, but he tells him that unfortunately, there's no policy for allowing people back on Earth. The guy insists: "But come on, there's got to be something you can do! I'll put up with anything, really, as long as you let me go back down."
So St. Peters tells him: "Well really, there's just this one possibility: you can go back, but only as a hen. That's the only thing we can allow." The guy guesses that this really is his only chance, so he agrees reluctantly.
So he's back on Earth in this beautiful chicken coop, the sun is shining, there's green grass everywhere, this is hen paradise. The other hens greet him with delight and he tells them his story, everything goes nicely. But then he feels kind of unwell, there's something wrong with his stomach. He asks this old hen: "Tell me, I've got this weird feeling in my belly, I'm not too well. What is happening to me?"
The old hen: "Well dearie, we hens lay eggs, you know. I bet you've never laid a nice egg before... You need to push it out now, and you'll feel much better after!"
So the guy pushes and pushes, and wham, out pops his first egg. The old hen congratulates him and he feels much better. But not 5 minutes later, his pain comes back. He returns to the old hen for advice.
"Well dearie, it's quite special but it happens that you need to lay TWO eggs, so go back there and keep pushing!"
So he goes back to his nest and pushes, and nothing comes, and he pushes harder, and wham, out comes his second egg! He feels much better, but not 2 minutes later, you guessed it, he's back in terrible pain and goes to see the old hen.
"What's this bullshit here, and don't tell me I've got a third egg to lay!" The old hen can't make head or tail of it and just tells him that when in doubt, he should be pushing. So the guy goes back to work and then, wham, his wife wakes him up with this smashing slap in the face and yells: "*Dave! Dave wake up you’re
... keep reading on reddit ➡It was ruled by a fair king who joyfully ruled his land. Unfortunately, the kingdom was also home to a wicked thief who loved nothing more than causing mayhem for all the inhabitants of the land.
However, the thief was not your ordinary thief. He only stole bells. Any kind of bell, whether a tiny bell from a kitten’s collar, all the way up to the bell from the king’s royal bell tower.
When the king awoke one morning, the bell tower’s bell was missing. The king, being brave and noble, decided to follow the thief back to his lair. He chose four of his most loyal soldiers, mounted his horse, and rode off into the snowy woods, following the footprints left behind on the ground.
Soon, he and his soldiers arrived to a clearing in the woods. In front of them was a large, bell-shaped building. They found the thief’s lair!Pointing to the recent tracks left in the snow by the thief, the king announced to the soldiers,
“Look! The Fresh Prints to Bell Lair!”
My dad worked in construction for most of his life, and because he worked with his hands, he sacrificed many watches. But if you don't have a watch, how are you to tell time? My dad has a great sense of humor and is always thinking of new ways to do things to make them more practical or thinking of ways to change things to make them work better for him. So after spending way too much money on a heavy duty watch that inevitably broke on him, he came up with a better solution.
He used the working part of a clock and stuck it on the inside rim of his hat, so if he wanted to know what the time was, he just had to look up. Simple. And the way his hat was, you couldn't see the clock when looking at him unless you were underneath him and looking up.
And then came the funny part. Every time he was asked what time it was, he would look up at the sun, scan the horizon, pretend to do a math equation in his head, and tell them the exact time down to the minute. I've witnessed him doing this a few times but never gave it away. The look of surprise and confusion this gave people was priceless.
My dad had done other funny things like this, but this was by far the funniest.
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡The poster reads:
"Must be able to type. Must be able to program. And must be bilingual. We are an equal opportunity employer."
The dog takes the poster in his mouth, and walks in. The manager spots the dog, and decides to humour it, pulling up a chair and a computer with a word processor. "Alright, if you want to work here, you need to first write a letter," and leaves the room.
30 minutes later, he comes back in, and the dog has typed out a completely error-free letter.
"Well, I'll be. This is a smart dog. But can he program?" he asks himself.
20 minutes pass, and the dog has made a perfectly running website for the store.
He looks, shocked, at the dog, and finally speaks. "Look, I know you have the qualifications, but, well... you're a dog."
The dog nudges the words "We are an equal opportunity employer." on the poster, and the manager sighs.
"There's no way you're bilingual."
The dog looks him in the eyes, and says, "Meow."
A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a 'handy-woman' and started canvassing a nearby well-to-do neighborhood. She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any odd jobs for her to do.
"Well, you can paint my porch," he said, "how much will you charge me?"
The blonde, after looking about, responded, "How about $50?"
The man agreed and told her that the paint and other materials that she might need were in the garage.
The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around the house?"
The man replied, "She should; she was standing on it. Do you think she's dumb?"
"No", replied the wife. "I guess I'm guilty of being influenced by all those 'dumb blonde' jokes."
A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.
"You're finished already?" the husband asked.
"Yes," the blonde replied, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats."
Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50.00 and handed it to her.
"And by the way," the blonde added, "it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."
"Hey, barkeep!" he says, struggling to keep control of his quarry. "Any room for me and my friends?"
The bartender smiles and sets down some plastic cups. The man plops his friends inside, but the cups are too small.
"Um...barkeep?" the man says, pulling them out again. The bartender reaches for some larger mugs, but as he places them next to the cups, it becomes obvious that even these will be too small for the pigs.
Seeing the man struggle to continue holding them, the bartender runs to the kitchen for help.
A cook emerges, holding several large measuring cups. "Sorry, I just used these to make a batch of cheese dip, but they're all yours!"
The man carefully plops each pig into its respective gooey yellow cup.
Arms exhausted, breathing heavily, he drops into a stool at the end of the bar, between his tiny friends and a beautiful girl.
He glances her way, gasping coyly. "Hey...I'm...Tom."
She smiles, having watched the whole ordeal. "Hi Tom, I'm Liz. And if you don't mind me asking..." she laughs, looking over his shoulder, "what was that all about?"
He glances back at the bar. "Yeah...sorry," he pants. "I wanted...to impress you, but...it turned out to be...a pretty cheesy...pig-cup line."
You saw-dust. (There were exaggerated winks after. And a elbow to the ribs. It was glorious)
Edit: thanks for the love: My kid asked me if I was gonna share it on Facebook. I don’t use Facebook so I said I’d share it here. He’s practicing his jokes, he said, so he can be a good big brother. He’s got a corny sense of humor and loves a good dad joke.
For the couple of you who think I pimped his joke for Karma, look outward to that speck of light in your dark life. That light is your asshole. Go that way to remove your head from from it.
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”!
This is about a school janitor who murders children at the school he works at, and I’m looking for either a pun about cleaning or a pun that can somehow tie in murder/violence with cleaning in some way. Strange request, I know.
He asks her out, and he needs to plan, so first, he needs his tuxedo.
So he goes to the tuxedo shop, and there's a huge line of people there, so he waits for 30 minutes, then an hour, and he finally gets his tuxedo.
Then, he needs to rent a limo, to look nice and formal and everything, so he walks into the limo rental shop, and again, there's a huge line, so he waits for 30 minutes and then an hour goes by, then 2, and he finally gets his limo.
On the night of the prom, he pulls up to her house with the limo, and she gets in, and on their way to the prom building, a huge traffic jam happens! So they wait, and then 30 minutes goes by, then an hour, and they finally arrive at the building!
So they walk in, take some pictures, and dance for a bit, and after a while, the girl asks, "hey can you get us some punch?"
So the boy walks over to the punch bowl and guess what?
There's no punchline.
A cyclist is struggling up a long steep hill on his bike, when he is met by a good Samaritan in a car. The guy offers him a long rope to tow him up the hill and the cyclist gratefully accepts. By the time they get to the top of the hill, the guy driving forgets he is towing the cyclist and heads on to the highway, with the poor cyclist ringing his bell in vain. In the meantime, a couple see them drive past their car on the highway and the wife turns to her husband:
"Wow, that car's going pretty fast, isn't it?" The husband replies, "the car?! Look at the cyclist behind him! He's going so fast he's ringing the bell to get the car to move out of the way!"
She insists they stop by at a store to look at all the toiletries. On their way home, the woman stops to go to the bathroom because her stomach feels unsettled. When she returns from the bathroom, she tells her husband that nothing came out.
To that, he replies, “You must really like shampoos.”
Surrounded by his son, his twin daughters and a haggard-looking nurse who looked about ready to end it all if only she could find the bloody switch, he was finally breathing his last.
His son, who loved him dearly and wasn't at all sure if he had been cut out of the will or not, burst into tears at the plight of a man who would look more at home in a red woolly outfit than he ever could in drab, white linen.
"I do not wish to die today, Anthony", he intoned fixing his gaze slightly above his son's left shoulder, "there is something you must do to save me."
"Tell me what to do dad, I can't bear to look at you this way", cried Anthony.
"There is a land, not far from here, where no one ever dies. It is not for dying you see. That is where I must go."
"Where is this place father? Tell me, and I shall take you to it."
"Take me there now", he said faintly as if in great pain, "Take me to, The Living Room."
Snail slides into a Tesla dealership after seeing Elon Musk on TV. Inches his way up to a salesperson. Snail asks to go on a test drive, the sales person shrugs, says sure, why not. It's been a slow day.
After it's over, snail is impressed. "I gotta get one of these!
Saleswoman asks if he can afford it. He is, after all, a snail. Snail retreats into his shell comes out with a wad of cash, the exact amount for the car.
"Yeah lady, I can pay! Can I get it customized?"
The woman says of course, but it'll cost more. Snail whips out more dough.
Snail says "Paint it with pink S's all over the vehicle!"
The saleswoman says sure and asks why.
The snail says "When I'm driving around, I want people to say 'WOW! Look at that fast, pink electric S-car go!'"
At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.
One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.
The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.
The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.
In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.
A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.
The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.
After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.
The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."
[from NPR-- this sub doesn't allow link posts]
The annual turkey pardon is a silly tradition, and President Obama knows it. On Wednesday, before pardoning turkeys named Tater and Tot, Obama summed up his feelings about this particular duty.
"It is my great privilege — well, it's my privilege — actually, let's just say it's my job to grant them clemency this afternoon," Obama said.
Not in attendance for the president's final turkey pardoning ceremony were first daughters Sasha and Malia Obama, who gamely laughed alongside their father last year. So instead, the president's nephews Austin and Aaron Robinson stood by for what Obama called his "corny-copia of dad jokes about turkeys."
And thus began a pun-fest for the ages. Here's a list of President Obama's groaners from this year's pardoning ceremony:
"Actually [Sasha and Malia] just couldn't take my jokes anymore. They were fed up."
"What I haven't told them yet is we are going to do this every year from now on. No cameras, just us, every year. No way I'm cutting this habit cold turkey."
"Tater is here in a backup role just in case Tot can't fulfill his duties. So he's sort of like the vice turkey. We're working on getting him a pair of aviator glasses."
"I want to take a moment to recognize the brave turkeys who weren't so lucky. Who didn't get to ride the gravy train to freedom. Who met their fate with courage and sacrifice and proved that they weren't chicken."
[After touting positive economic indicators and the low uninsured rate] "That's worth gobbling about."
"We should also make sure everyone has something to eat on Thanksgiving. Of course, except the turkeys, because they're already stuffed."
"When somebody at your table tells you that you've been hogging all of the side dishes, you can't have any more, I hope that you respond with a creed that sums up the spirit of a hungry people: 'Yes, we cran.' "
"Look, I know there are some bad ones in here, but this is the last time I'm doing this, so we're not leaving any room for leftovers."
"And now from the Rose Garden, Tater and Tot will go to their new home at Virginia Tech, which is admittedly a bit hokey." (The Hokies are the Virginia Tech mascot.)
"And so let's get on with the pardoning. Because it's Wednesday afternoon and everyone knows that Thanksgiving traffic can put people in a foul mood."
[from NPR -- http://www.npr.org/2016/11/23/503178220/president-obamas-2016-turkey-pardon-dad-jokes-the-definitive-list?utm_source=facebook.com
... keep reading on reddit ➡I once had a job in a t-shirt factory. Every day, t-shirts would come down the line, and using this big rubber stamp, I’d apply a handful of dots to them, at random, to just given them a general design that wasn’t blank t-shirt. It was soul sucking, but it paid the bills.
However, I kept running into a problem. I wasn’t applying the dots fast enough. It was a mental thing - I’d get hung up on where should I apply the next dot so it doesn’t look bad, etc. But one of the guys who’d been there longer than I had gave me a piece of advice. He told me to cross to my eyes. That way, I could just kinda zone out and hit the t-shirt a few times randomly without paying much attention to where exactly I was applying the dots. It worked like magic.
Well eventually I was getting ready to leave the factory and they had me train my replacement. It only took one day. I left him with one piece of advice. I told him not to get too hung up on the specific details but just to make sure he dotted his tees and crossed his eyes.
With a large, painful lump under his armpit. In a slight panic, the man asks the doctor if there's any way he can help by informing him of what the massive growth is.
The doctor looks carefully and slightly questioning his diagnosis says, "A cyst?"
"Right", says the man, "I'd love to know what the hell this thing is and if you can help me with it".
There was a man cleaning a tank but all you could see was his hand. My dad leans to me and says "look! It's a rare hand fish."
The dad next to us with his two kids said "look everyone? Do you see the hand fish? That ones my favorite."
As we walked a way another family walked up and I heard their dad say "here we have the hand fish."
Edit: I told my dad about the response this is getting, to which he replied "Wow. Is it going viral? Should I call my doctor?" (Keep in mind he doesn't know how the internet works.)
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡On his way to the bartender he hears someone say “Nice shoes” he looks around and cant see anyone... He continues walking and hears “Nice Shirt” again he looks around and there is no one in sight.
He finally makes his way to the bartender and says “Mate I have to tell you this bar is extremely nice, but am I hearing voices? I keep hearing someone saying nice shoes, nice shirt but there is no one around?”
The bartender said “oh dont worry about that, its just the peanuts, they are complimentary”
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡He's someone who has been very creative in his ways when he delivers his jokes to his victims, I'm a bit ashamed I didn't see this one coming
He called me on the phone, saying he needed help with doing something, sounding fairly serious on phone. He said "soljakwinever I need your help with something on amazon. I keep searching for lighters and it's not working right. Can you open it on your phone for me" Recently he's been asking me for help with some computer stuff, I built it for him lately and it's got nothing problems, blue screens over stuff, he's very smart but I wouldn't say he's anywhere near 'tech-literate'. But his is getting issues like I've never seen. So I assumed he needed help with something like that. I answered "Sure Bryan. Let my just open the app." Pulling Amazon up on my phone. "So what did you need help with? Something about lighters" I ask. He replies still sounding serious "I keep searching for lighters and the app keeps showing me matches. Can you try it and see if that happens to me too." I type 'Lighter' into the search bar, submit the search and looking at my results, seeing product listings for lighters. "Looks normal to me. I'm seeing nothing but lighters" He responds starting to crack "Yeah! Nothing but matches!"
I got played.
EDIT: Wording fix
One of the classic Abbott and Costello routines, where Bud Abbott takes advantage of a common math mistake that we all make to fleece his pal, Lou Costello, out of all of his money. The skit ends with a simple ‘read my mind’ routine that takes Lou’s last remaining bill. This routine was done many times, both in the movies and their radio show.
Bud Abbott: Do me a favor, loan me $50.
Lou Costello: Bud, I can’t. I can’t loan you $50.
Bud Abbott: Oh, yes, ya can.
Lou Costello: No, I can’t. All I got is $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, give me the $40 and you’ll owe me 10
Lou Costello: Ok, I’ll owe you 10.
Bud Abbott: That’s right.
Lou Costello: How come I owe you 10?
Bud Abbott: How much did I ask for?
Lou Costello: 50
Bud Abbott: How much did you give me?
Lou Costello: 40.
Bud Abbott: So you owe me $10.
Lou Costello: That’s right. [Pause] But you owe me 40.
Bud Abbott: Don’t change the subject.
Lou Costello: I’m not changing the subject; you’re trying to change my finances. Come on, Abbott give me my $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, there’s your $40, now give me the 10 you owe me.
Lou Costello: I’m paying you on account.
Bud Abbott: On account?
Lou Costello: On account I don’t know how I owe it to ya.
Bud Abbott: That’s the way you feel about it, that’s the last time I ask you for a loan of $50.
Lou Costello: But how can I loan ya $50, now. All I got is 30.
Bud Abbott: Well, give me the 30 and you’ll owe me 20.
Lou Costello: Ok. This is getting worse all the time. (Look at audience) First I owe him 10, now I owe him 20.
Bud Abbott: Well, why do you run yourself into debt?
Lou Costello: I’m not running in, you’re pushing me!1
Bud Abbott: I can’t help it if you can’t handle your finances. I do all right with my money.
Lou Costello: And you do all right with my money too.
Bud Abbott: Now I asked you for a loan of $50. You gave me 30, so you owe me 20. 20 and 30 is 50.
Lou Costello: No. No. No. 25 and 25 is 50.
Bud Abbott: All right, here’s your $30, now give me the 20 you owe me. Fine guy, won’t loan a pal $50.
If your onion sang hip-hop, would that be a rapscallion?
I used to be an astronaut, but I got tired of eating out of satellite dishes. I wasn't allowed to eat the Milky Way, even though I had to look at it every day. The worst thing was, I never got to visit The Space Bar. Then, when I was visiting the dark side of the moon, I was bitten by a parasite. Now, you might think it's crazy, but the doctor who removed it called it a lunar-tick.
If "womb" is pronounced "woom" and "tomb" is pronounced "toom", shouldn't "bomb" be pronounced "boom"?
China recently tested a new steroid. It basically turns you into The Hulk. The side effect is it could turn you into a crazed zombie that tends to rip the upper extremities from people. People are saying that this could be the zombie apocalypse. In my opinion, lips have nothing to do with it. I call it ARMageddon. The only way to stay safe now is to not let anyone close enough to disarm you.
I recently was going to join the railroad union. I decided against it because it's complicated. If I received instruction on driving the locomotive, would they call it engineering, or training?
I got a sad story about a flower. I don't know who the heck she pissed off, but damn, now she's a Black-Eyed Susan.
I finally figured out what makes leaves angry. Fall. They get so mad they change color. Some are yellow. They're just afraid and run from their problems. The other ones usually just leave.
I went parachuting with my military buddies once. We landed on a department store. I told him I think we're at the wrong coordinates. He said: "Nope. We're right on Target"
I asked a psychologist if Native Americans have strong emotions. He said "Oh yeah, they're intense".
If a psychotic person thought something made sense, would that thought be psychological?
If Matt Damon were searching for a secondhand store, would he be Goodwill Hunting?
My friend is a Marksman for the military. One day, he went to the armory and asked for 3 snipers. They gave him a candy bar. It was a 3 Musketeers.
I want to be there if Dwayne Johnson ever uses a pizza stone. That way I can smell what "The Rock" is cookin'.
Christopher bought a lemon, and the car broke down. Now Christopher Walken.
Have you heard about the latest bank battle on Wall Street? Capital One and Chase got in a fight and Capital One.
You know what a pirate says to his wenches when he sees the shoreline? "LAND HO!"
A man finds a lamp in the desert and dusts it off. Poof! A genie p
... keep reading on reddit ➡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
A woman walks into a bar and takes a seat. The bartender asks what she wants to drink and her name, "Falacy" she responds despondently.
"What's got you down, Falacy?" he asks.
"I had a terrible day, my dog threw up all over my shoes this morning, got fired from my job and my car broke down on the way home. To make matters worse as I trudged over to this bar it started pouring it down with rain."
The bartender looks her up and down pitifully.
"That's pathetic, Falacy"
As a professional children's entertainer, finding the dad jokes thread has been a real blessing. I work mainly with children between the ages of four and eight, and, for obvious reasons, I need to keep my jokes clean. In my business, a groan is just as good as the laugh because it usually is accompanied by a smile!
I'm afraid I don't know who started it, but the "this paper says otherwise" is easily one of my favorites. I took the liberty of having 500 business cards that say "otherwise" on them. I use them in my performances in a variety of ways. If I see a dad after my show who looks like the type who might enjoy a good pun, I will go up to him and ask him if he thought the show was good. Inevitably he will say yes, and I'll tell him that "Unfortunately this card says otherwise." I then leave the dad with the card to use at his own behest.
Just wanted to give a big shout out and a big thank you to the Dad jokes community for inspiration. People ask me what I do for a living and I tell them I'm the Jimmy Fallon to five-year-olds. Thanks so much for contributing all you guys do!
So this is a bit long, sorry about that.
Zorro and his best bud the Lone Ranger were riding through the desert one day, I forget where they were heading to or where they had come from, but we can safely assume shenanigans of some kind were the driving force.
They have been travelling for most of the day and are starting to get tired. There has been a discussion about making camp for the night, but as things are they have agreed to continue riding for a while longer, till the sun starts to set. Away and off to the west the Lone Ranger spies a plant that seems to have large pink flowers that hang in strips with white stripes running the length of them.
"Zorro, what's that over there?" he asks.
Zorro turns in his saddle and raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Ah, it looks like a bacon tree, quite common in these parts. Let's ride on, there is a good place an hour from now to set up camp."
The two friends ride on and as the sun is beginning to descend the have stopped and are making camp. As Zorro begins to make a fire he says to the Lone Ranger, "You know, I quite fancy some pork. You ride back to that bacon tree and get some for supper, and I'll finish setting up camp here."
"No problem Zorro, I won't be long" replies the Ranger, jumping back into the saddle and returning the way they came.
Time passes, and the sun begins to get low in the sky. 'Odd', thinks Zorro 'he should be back by now.' Another hour passes and the shadows are growing longer. 'I might have to go investigate, it's not like him to take his time.' More time passes, and, just as Zorro has decided that he must go search for his friend in the dwindling light, he hears the sound of Silver's hooves. Looking into the gathering gloom he sees his friend riding towards him. As the Lone Ranger nears Zorro can see the Lone Ranger is injured, there are cuts and bruises and he has an arrow through his hat.
"What on earth happened, Lone Ranger? Did you make it to the Bacon tree?"
The Lone Ranger dismounts and sighs heavily.
"That weren't no Bacon tree, Zorro. That was an Hambush."
I do maintenance on overnights at a department store. We're able to get away with quite a lot of joking around thankfully so it really isn't all that bad
Anyways, it's about 6 or 6:30 in the morning. The daytime employees are just making their way in for the day. Suddenly, I'm paged over the system by the old guy I work with on maintenance
"MetalHeadCrow, where are you?"
I love working with the old guy. He's a great worker and we really get along good. So, I run to the nearest phone, pick it up, and page for the whole store to hear:
"I'm right here, where are you?"
I was happy with myself
EDIT: I'm using my iPod to post so not sure how this will look. Also added a few words
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-
He said, "So I'll go first?"
I said sure.
I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.
He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.
He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.
Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.
After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.
I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"
He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."
(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)
I was 16 and at a rowing regatta I was competing in. It was middle of the day and very hot everyone was under these massive gazebo/tent structures with big guide wires and these huge rusty steel tent pegs sledgehammered into the dirt.
Anyways I was running late for my race and my crew were yelling at me so I started running. The shortest way was through the spectator area on a big downhill towards the water so at full pace I went that way.
About halfway the top of my barefoot trips on the rusted top of one of these steel pegs and I fall face first and tumble through the dirt with my foot and ankle split open.
People run from all directions, medical staff etc someone holds a towel over my head for shade and I see my dad. He's looking down at me but it's hard to see through the dirt in my eyes and people around.
He asks "bloody hell mate, what happened?".
In agony I manage a "I kicked a tent peg".
He knelt down beside me, looked me in the eye and said "how far did it go?"
It looked like foul play. The mason wasn’t a suspect. He had a concrete alibi. The night of the accident he said he was with his girlfriend. She confirmed this. There was a wall of evidence. Consequently his alibi was rock solid and not just a facade. There was damning evidence that it was the plumber. They figured his alibi, that he was at the casino, wouldn’t hold water. But cameras showed fluid betting all night. This, obviously, threw a wrench in the investigation. The investigators followed a lead to the electrician. He had a shocking secret. It seems the electrician had been charged with battery only months earlier. But it was a dead end. They looked at the HVAC installer, but his alibi was airtight. Next, they tried to nail the Roofer, as he had been spouting off about the victim the day of the accident. But the roofer had been hammered all day. There was no way they could paint him as the cunning mastermind.
Then they saw the writing on the wall: the painter had both motive and opportunity. He was seen canvassing the accident site a few strokes before midnight when the accident occurred. The victim fell off a faulty ladder that was covered in finger paint. It seems the victim and the painter had a few brush-ins before. And it wasn’t a pretty picture. The painter was indicted, but despite all the evidence, the charges didn’t stick and the jury let him roll off clean.
And so the string decides that he shall stop at his favorite Pub and treat himself to a pint before going home to the wife. But after a decent walk he arrives at the pub to find a new sign on the door that reads " No Strings Allowed".
The string becomes infuriated. "How dare they" he thinks to himself. After having been a loyal patron for 10 years he decides this injustice is not to be tolerated and comes up with a plan.
He takes a moment and steps into the back alley way to be discreet. While he is there he ties himself into a knot and frays the top. Content with his disguise he marches back around to the front, enters the bar and has a seat when requests a pint of beer.
The bartender being a little suspicious looks at him a little uneasily but just can't seem to peg what the problem is. He serves him the beer regardless while keeping a close eye on the suspicious character. A little while later the string decides that the week at work has been so long that he is deserving of two pints of beer before going home to retire for the weekend.
It is just at that point when the bartender is serving him his second pint that he pauses and looks at the string and says "Hold on one minute! Aren't you a string?"
To which the string replied, "Sorry, I'm a frayed knot".
When behind him he hears:
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
Walking faster, he looks back and makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.
FASTER
FASTER
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, and slams it shut and locks it behind him.
However, the casket crashes through the door, with the lid of the casket clacking
Clapity-BUMP...
Clapity-BUMP...
Clapity-BUMP...
on his heels, the terrified man runs.
Rushing upstairs in the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him
A man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the bottle of cough syrup at the casket and...
The coffin stops.
A man is walking home alone one foggy evening, when behind him he faintly hears:
thump...
thump...
thump...
Senses tingling, he begins walking faster only to look back and make out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.
THUMP...
THUMP...
THUMP...
Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.
FASTER
FASTER
THUMP...
THUMP...
THUMP...
He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, slams it shut and locks it behind him.
However, the casket crashes through the door, and with the lid of the casket clacking on his heels, the terrified man runs.
Clappity-THUMP...
Clappity-THUMP...
Clappity-THUMP...
Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH! the casket breaks down the door. Thumping and clapping towards him, the man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws it at the casket and...
The coffin stops.
A dog sees a "Now hiring" poster outside of a computer store. The poster reads:
"Must be able to type. Must be able to program. And must be bilingual. We are an equal opportunity employer."
The dog takes the poster in his mouth, and walks in. The manager spots the dog, and decides to humour it, pulling up a chair and a computer with a word processor. "Alright, if you want to work here, you need to first write a letter," and leaves the room.
30 minutes later, he comes back in, and the dog has typed out a completely error-free letter.
"Well, I'll be. This is a smart dog. But can he program?" he asks himself.
20 minutes pass, and the dog has made a perfectly running "Hello, world" program.
He looks, shocked, at the dog, and finally speaks. "Look, I know you have the qualifications, but, well... you're a dog."
The dog nudges the words "We are an equal opportunity employer." on the poster, and the manager sighs.
"There's no way you're bilingual."
The dog looks him in the eyes, and says, "Meow."
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