The Whole Story Puns

There's a lot to unpack

True story: the wife and I were walking in Target this evening. We were walking in the clothing section, behind an employee who was moving a mannequin. Out of nowhere the whole arm pops off, and the poor woman can’t bend to pick it up because… ya know… she’s holding the rest of the mannequin. So I walk up, grab the limb while she’s looking around for another employee to help, hold it out to her and say…

“Here, let me give you a hand”

She took it. No laughter. My wife? Nothing. So I am posting here in the hopes that my genius will be appreciated. Keep getting those dad jokes in the wild, folks.

After standing in line for a moment he comes up to a teller with the name tag Patrica Wack who asked him what he was looking for.

The frog takes a moment and says, “I’d like a loan of a million dollars.”

Patrica look at him in utter shock and says, “But you’re a frog… what is your collateral? How are you going to pay it back?”

The frog waits for her to stop speaking then states simply, “My father is Mick Jagger.”

“How can you prove it?“ Patrica instantly responded.

Responding to her incredulity, the frog pulls out a small porcelain porcupine and places it in front of her, allowing a moment of inspection. Soon she asks, “What does this mean?” Looking to the frog for an explanation.

“Ask your boss,” He says. “he’ll know.”

Then, without waiting even a moment he turned on his heels and walked out of the bank. Patrica, dumbfounded by the strange interaction put the small porcupine to the side of her desk and waited for the end of the day…

—————————

At the end of the day Patrica went to her boss and recounted the whole strange story about the frog and handed her boss the porcupine, asking, “So what is it anyway?”

Her boss looked at the small porcupine for a moment then looked back up at her before responding,

“That’s a knickknack Patty Wack, give that frog a loan, his old man’s a rolling stone.”

P.S. While it may not exactly be a dad joke as expected, I did hear it from my father, who put great emphasis into the importance of the story. Hope y’all enjoyed.

I’d tell you the whole story, but it all happened so fast

He goes online, trying to find some local up-and-coming bands. He finds a couple of okay options: some country, some rap, some metal… Nothing really sticks out as the next big thing to him though. He keeps at it for an entire weekend, struggling to find something he really likes.

He then stumbles upon this video of an old man, playing the acoustic guitar on his front porch: a beautiful rendition of ‘’Stairway to Heaven’’. Gentle, touching, absolutely gorgeous. The bar owner can’t help but cry. He immediately knows this is the man he wants for his bar, and gets in contact with him.

The musician, over the phone, thank him over and over again for the amazing opportunity. He explains that he’s a retired judge who was pressured to go into law by his parents, over 50 years ago. In his heart, he’s always dreamed of being a musician and to perform in front of a real audience. This is the first time he’ll ever get to do it.

The bar owner is even more touched by his story, and decides to immediately sign him on for 10 night shows. The old judge is over the moon, this is everything he’s ever dreamed of! The two men leave the call, happy and content.

That night, the bar owner hypes all of the regulars, telling them about this amazing new act that they’ll get to see tomorrow. He tells them to bring some friends, bring some family, no one has ever heard music like that before. The patrons are excited and promise to bring everyone they know.

The night arrives, and the old judge gets on stage. The bar is absolutely packed, people give him a standing ovation before he’s even started. Beaming with joy and trying his best not to cry, he calms the audience down. ‘’Thank you, thank you so much, everyone. Thank you to Jim, the owner, for believing in me. I know he loved my cover of ‘Stairway to Heaven’, but tonight, I figured I’d do some original compositions. I hope you like them.’’ He sits down and starts playing.

He slams down on his guitar and lets out a piercing screech. Everyone in the room freezes

For the next half hour, without ever stopping, he plays dozens of discordant chords while yelling incoherent words like ‘’pineapple sauce!’’ and ‘’love and hate are second cousins!’’. He screams then whispers, playing notes that don’t make any sort of reasonable sense.

The audience is stunned. No one dares to say a word. The sweet old man seems so sincere in his rendition, yet it’s just… horrendous.

The owner has a million thoughts racing all at once. How could this h

I went to but some camouflage trousers but the whole story was empty.

This is an original "shaggy dog story" style Dad joke that I wrote recently. Enjoy. :)

The whale watching witch

Remember the story of the wicked witch from Hansel & Gretel? Reports of her death were greatly exaggerated. What actually happened is simply that she retired from being a wicked witch. Instead she decided to become a good witch and travel around the globe by boat. Being a witch, she wasn't very conventional, so she went on eBay and bought herself an ex-navy submarine to use for travelling the world.

One day she decided to go whale watching. Our repentant witch cruised into whale watching territory in the comfort of her refurbished submarine. She neatly surfaced, and manoeuvred her sub into a position alongside several boats that were offering whale watching cruises to rich tourists. Armed with her favourite binoculars, she stood on the conning tower, hoping to get a good view of the action. She soon found herself admiring some giant whales frolicking together in the ocean.

Suddenly, one of the whales headed right for her submarine. Instantly, our friend the witch realized that the whale thought that her vessel would make a good dinner, and was about to swallow it whole. At the last moment, she leapt overboard, just managing to escape, as the mouth of the whale closed over her submarine, swallowing it in one giant gulp.

Meanwhile, one of the tourists on a nearby whale watching cruise had been filming everything. "You'll never believe what I saw!" he cried, "But I got it all on video, and I'm pretty sure it will go viral. I just saw a whale eating a sub sans witch!"

Bear with me, it's a little story. So, I'm getting ready to take her to school this morning and I was about to hop in the shower when I felt the call of nature, didn't have enough time to poo and get to school on time so I say, "I'm just going to get dressed and I'm not going to shower" she asks me why and I said, "I have to poop and it's a whole process." She immediately replies... "A process of elimination". I start cackling immediately. I'm laughing and, as kids like to do, she keeps saying it thinking she's cool. I can't stop laughing but as she's repeating it, I wonder if she knows. So I ask her, do you know why that's funny? She says no, and my wife and I start cackling even more and I explain through the tears that pooping can be called elimination.

I'm sure it's not a new thing but it's new to us and we are going to have a new phrase for doing a deuce!

The first floor is done….. but the second floor, that’s a whole other story!

Recently, my brother came a-knocking upon my chamber door. At first, I ignored his knockings, as I was otherwise indisposed, but eventually I relented, arose from my recumbent pose upon my comparatively humble pallet, and went to my door, the lintel of which is obviously forsaken of and unornamented by a bust of Pallas, yet I am not Poe's somewhat well-to-do narrator, so....I digress. Let me just finally arrive at the whole point and punchline of this particular and peculiar yet picayune semi-autobiographical story: So, I flung wide open the door, but neither so suddenly nor violently as to so take my brother off his guard that said flinging door struck him full in the face, but with still such a show of force that he well knew that he had awakened to full furiousness the rather sporadically beastly person who dwelt behind it. At any rate, startled by my unoccluding of the door or not, the first thing out of his mouth was a query concerning my collection of tools, which is even humbler than my pallet. In short, he inquired of me as to whether or not I possessed a hammer, to which inquiry I replied only that I used to, and then made a brief, dumb show of gesturally looking for it. When my silly and simple search proved fruitless, I then said, upon seeing a stack of canned food that sat upon the splintered shelf in the marred and ancient armoire that formerly belonged to our deceased father, "What if you were to use this can? Or, if you like, this CANMER"? (And thus concludes my hardly lengthy nor revelatory tale. Lol)

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

That's the whole story. Verb ate'im.

My father is fond of jokes and pranks (even though I only pretend to laugh .-.) but there's this story that I always would genuinely laugh at whenever it is brought up. So here it goes...

We've always gone to Church every Sunday when we were kids and on one of those Sundays, my father decided to make my mother laugh by shaving only HALF of his beard. So while the other side has hair, the other is shaved. He casually walked up to my mother and asked if he looked good in his "new fashion style." My mother laughed so hard she couldn't breathe.

When that was over, we got ourselves ready and went to Church. While praying, there was a bunch of people looking at my father. He noticed that as soon as he looked at those people, they'd cover their face, bow their heads and walk away. He felt weird. So he got into this 'thinking position' where he had his hands to play with his beard. And that's when he realized...HE FORGOT TO SHAVE THE OTHER HALF AT HOME AND NO ONE NOTICED UNTIL WE GOT THERE. HAHAHHAHAHA He was so embarassed, he covered his whole face until mass was over.

That's all folks. Thank you for coming to my dad talks .

My personal favorite is: "Hey did you hear about the guy who got his whole left side cut off?" "Oh, don't worry. He's all right now."

It lets you add a lot of different flare, especially if you're looking at your phone and you make it sound like a news story or something.

So what's your favorite dad joke?

EDIT: Thank you everyone, I've gotten a good chuckle out of all of these! It's been a rough couple of days, but these all cheered me up. I'm going to be recycling them... My girlfriend eyes are gonna be rolling overtime tonight. I'd feel sorry, but my girlfriend probably doesn't want me feeling anyone but her.

Listen now to the story of the two brothers Hing and Ming. Each was devoted to the search for ultimate wisdom, but they differed greatly on how it was to be found. One day their pet chicken fell ill, began to molt, and soon lost all of its feathers! The brothers decided that this would be an ideal test case and agreed to each spend two months trying to cure the chicken. Hing immediately went back to the university. Having boned up on ornithology and traditional Chinese medicine, he decided that the answer was a prescription of gum-tree leaf tea. He gathered bushels of the tea leaves, brewed gallons of the tea, and poured it into the chicken for the two months.

Meanwhile, Ming traveled all around China, praying at the shrines of his ancestors. One night he had a dream. His ancestors appeared and told him to feed the chicken tea made from gum-tree leaves!!!

Ming, aware of his brother’s lack of success, decided that the problem was quantity. He gathered whole CARTLOADS of leaves, and brewed BARRELS of the tea, and poured them into the chicken for the two months. At the end of the time, the poor chicken was still as naked as a bowling ball.

Moral: All of Hing’s courses, and all of Ming’s kin; couldn’t make gum tea re-feather a hen!

My dad was a carpenter and would start to tell me a story in such an honest way I thought for sure he was serious;

"Ya know, this one time we were building this house, and this damn cat kept coming in and bothering us all day. So my buddy Jimmy put some gas in a cap and the cat drank the whole thing... Suddenly, it jumped up and ripped all over the room bouncing off walls and crashing into everything. Then, it just fell over....."

waits for you to say

"Did it die?"

"Nope. Ran outta gas."

I am currently in a intercultural communication class in college. Because its the beginning of the semester we always have to do some goofy activity and because the class is about culture everyone would tell something interesting about theirs. So this little Asian kid in class starts talking about customs growing up. He says how when he was little he remembers his father farting, and his dad asking why he is not clapping "in this culture you clap after your father farts." The whole time hes telling this I am thinking...no way...this dad is a savage. I kind of got a feeling he was starting to pick up on it, he started talking slow and thinking about it. Long story short: he clapped after his dad farted presumably for years, practicing their culture. What do you think?

Some of her/our friends came along too. One friend had an exchange student from Mexico with them.

The girl I'm interested in's dad, and the exchange student meet and introduce themselves, then it goes...

Her dad: "So what part of Mexico are you from?"

Student: "My family and I live in Monterrey."

Dad: "Oh wonderful! And what kind of drugs does your family sell?"

-Awkward pause, his daughter appalled, face in palms, completely embarrassed-

Dad: "Hahahah, I'm just kidding, welcome aboard!"

This is pretty much how the whole day went on the river, joke after joke, story after story, and his daughter was completely embarrassed. So great.

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!

So, let's start off with a fact about myself: I'm vegetarian. I've been one my whole life. Now, let's get to the story.

Basically, I was driving down to camp at a Battleship with my dad (for a Boy Scouts trip), and this was during my first 6 months of learning to drive. This was the most intense trip for me (so far), and I was already nervous about driving on the interstate, so I was doing my best to practice proper driver etiquette.

Now, here's where the story gets interesting. I'm cruising down the interstate, going approximately 70 mph in the middle lane, when all of a sudden, I see a deer emerge onto the road from the right. It's running to the left (aka, trying to cross this interstate). The car to the right of me slams on the brakes, so the deer kept running. I slammed on my breaks as hard as I could, BARELY missing the deer. The car to the left of me was unlucky. The deer smashes its head into the left car's headlight and it flips over to the right (over my car). Clearly, it's dead, and as it flipped over my car, a lot of its blood gets onto my windshield.

I'm horrified. I kept driving forward. Trying to make sure I didn't veer off or anything. I look to my dad, and my hands are slightly shaking while I'm continuing this trip. My dad looks over to me, smiles, and says, "Don't worry, my 'deer'. Keep driving."

I looked back at him with the most disgusted face, and he just started giggling. Good god, this was NOT the time for a dad joke, but nevertheless, my dad didn't fail to deliver.

I thought I'd hate him forever after this and people would agree with me, but now this joke gets one of the largest laughs from people at parties. <_<

tl;dr My dad's sense of humor appalls me.

I should preface this by saying this was on of the best dates I've ever been on, but the relationship also subsequently fell apart because of it.

Anyway, a few years ago, my girlfriend and I had been going out for a few months, and things were great. I met her through a mutual friend of mine at the hospital, weirdly enough. Our friend had gotten in a very bad accident and had to get a glass eye. He would always dab it with cotton to stop the bleeding at the beginning. Anyway, this is all relevant because my girlfriend (not girlfriend at the time) bonded over how disgusting our friends eye was. This got us to talking, and before you know it, we started going out. Things got pretty serious months and months down the line, and I was just laid off from my job. This meant that in general, we would go on cheaper dates. Nothing too drastic. Just like a movie and dinner instead of say the Opera and a fancy five star restaurant.

So, about a year and a half into the relationship, Joe, the mutual friend of ours, suggests a double date with us and his girlfriend. He knew the situation I was in and offered to pay for the whole thing. Great right? Well... no. I was actually planning on proposing to my girlfriend. Except Joe suggested the plans in front of my girlfriend too, so she accepted for both of us. I didn't want to propose to her on a double date, so I pulled her aside and told her to just skip the date and come over instead. Joe had bought us all tickets to a baseball game, and believe it or not, my girlfriend chose the baseball game instead of me. I stayed home alone as she went out with Joe and his girlfriend. Moral of the story is, if it hadn't been for Cotton Eyed Joe, I'd been married a long time ago.

I've heard my Pop tell this story so many times, I feel as though it's my duty to share it with this wonderful subreddit.

So, Pops is an air traffic controller. And a few years back, there was an initiative to boost workplace morale and get people to work together as a team.

Needless to say, the whole campaign was the butt of lots of jokes around the sector. Not that teamwork is a bad thing, of course. Just easy fodder for jokes, particularly in a group of middle-aged, dad-joke-loving men.

So one time, Pops is shooting the shit with another controller, and they're giving each other a hard time about one thing or another. And their supervisor walks up; real squirrelly guy who didn't cut it as an actually controller so they made him a supervisor (the FAA is silly that way). And he hears my Pops and the other guy razzing each other, and sticks his head in the sector and says, "Gentlemen, there's no 'I' in 'team'."

And Pops responds, "Yeah, but there's a 'U' in 'stupid'!"

Every time he tells that story, he just loses it. Cracks himself up. Even though I'm sure I've heard him tell it two dozen times.

There's a church in the country that is looking for a bell ringer for church on Sundays. A guy comes in for the job but he has no arms. The priest says "How are you going to ring the bell with no arms?"

"Come up in the bell tower with me and I'll show you."

The priest figures he'll humor him so when they get up there the backs all the way up to one side and runs full force into the side of the bell sending a "BONG" across the valley. The priest is so impressed he hires him. That Sunday the time comes and our bell ringer is all ready, backed into the corner. Runs full force and slips at the last minute falling to his death 100 feet below. A detective comes to investigate so the priest tells him the whole story. "We have to notify his next of kin, do you know his name?"

"No, but his face rings a bell."

The church now has to replace this guy so another guy comes in and coincidence of coincidences, he has no arms either. Same method of ringing the bell. Same accident. "Do you know his name?"

"No, but he's a dead ringer for the other guy."

My dad told me this the first time on Halloween night back when I was 9. He tells it to this day to any of my cousins, nephews, or any kids that happen to linger too long at the house when he's giving out candy. It's a long one but I have always enjoyed it.

Back when I was about your age, I went on a Halloween adventure. There was an old abandoned house on our street where a series of grisly axe murders had taken place years before. The house had never sold and was left vacant and was left to fall apart. There was a local legend that if you went into the house on Halloween night, you'd be confronted by the ghost of the murderer himself, still looking for more victims to add to his terrifying story.

My friend Tom and I decided to go through with it one year. Knowing everyone would be too terrified to go into the house, we snuck in easily on Halloween night. The place was falling apart inside, the carpet was wet and moldy and the wallpaper was peeling off everywhere. We headed down carefully to the basement down a set of creaky stairs.

At first we found nothing. Just an empty creepy old house. Suddenly we felt as if we were being watched. I was looking through one of the rooms in the large basement when I suddenly heard Tom shriek. I spun around and turned my flashlight and Tom was being chased by something, no someone. It looked like it was the murderer! A crazed man with an axe!

We turned and tried to run anywhere. We were in the basement but couldn't get up the stairs because we were blocked. We ran into the side room which looked like it might have been the laundry years ago. We locked the door and looked for a way out. The only thing we could find was a small window that opened onto ground level. As I climbed out I heard a pounding on the door. I managed to wriggle my way through the window and turned around to help my friend Tom. Panicking, he managed to get his top half through the window when I noticed the pounding stop.

Tom was stuck! I kept trying to pull him up but I couldn't. I pulled as hard as I could as Tom panicked and thrashed even more. I thought something had him caught, but it was even worse. The murderer had gotten behind him and was holding him back! He was too strong for me to overcome and he was pulling Tom's leg!

Just like I've been pulling yours this whole time.

Long story short, my dad bought a used truck and worked over every crevice to make sure he wasn't getting a lemon. Well he checked everywhere except the emergency car jack holder: the jack was gone.

So he asks for a jack for Christmas. Being a perfect son, I blew him off and promptly forgot about the whole deal until today, Christmas Day. I apologized and told him, "hey dad, don't worry, I'll get you a car jack later". He looked me dead in the eye and said, "John, why the hell would I want my car jacked?"

Context: We were discussing the Malaysian airline situation and it's coverage on major news networks. He says > "They're covering this story so much, you could say its becoming a plain story"

Whole class groaned

I was explaining to my dad how I won a match in a pool tournament the night before...

I had to play against the best player in the house but he had hurt his back earlier that day so he couldn't even walk straight. He won the opening lag to earn the right to break. I jokingly asked him "are you sure you want to break with that back injury?" He broke anyways and didn't make anything. My teammate and I proceeded to run the whole table, including the eight ball, to win the game as underdogs. Afterward my teammate said to the pro, "Hey, didn't /u/DetroitLarry warn you not to break?" At which point my dad interrupts my story to say...

"Now that's just adding insult to injury!"