One afternoon, a wealthy lawyer was riding in the back of his limousine

when he saw two pathetic-looking men by the side of the road, eating grass. He ordered his driver to stop and got out to investigate. He asked the men, "Why are you eating grass?"

"We don't have no money for food," the first man replied.

"Then you must come with me to my house," insisted the lawyer.

"But, sir, I got a wife and three kids here," said the man.

"Bring them along!" replied the lawyer.

The second man exclaimed, "I got a wife and six kids!"

"Bring them as well!", the lawyer proclaimed as he headed back to his limo.

They all climbed into the car, and once underway, one of the men expresses, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."

The lawyer replied, "I'm most happy to do it. You'll love my place. The grass is almost a foot tall."

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👤︎ u/kachow--
đź“…︎ Aug 11 2019
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The adventures of Max Dad, P.I.

The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.

The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.

Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and that’ll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.

“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.

“Please, call me Max”

“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”

“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”

đź‘Ť︎ 25
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👤︎ u/johnnyohnny
đź“…︎ Apr 18 2016
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Quasimodo's Replacement

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

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👤︎ u/Bygles
đź“…︎ May 21 2016
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Puns of Varying Quality on the Subject of Linguistics (created in a fit of procrastinative inspiration) some of which I thought someone, someday might appreciate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

... keep reading on reddit ➡

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👤︎ u/kieuk
đź“…︎ Nov 28 2011
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