Three Way Puns

So, we're driving up a tree-lined street where people often have wedding/family photos taken. It's lined with live oaks and is pretty beautiful. That prompted this conversation.

12 y/o daughter: Why do people sometimes get their wedding photos taken on train tracks? That doesn't make sense.

Me: Because they choo-choose to? [with a debt to Ralphie Wiggam]

6 y/o daughter (Loud groan): Papi, that's a terrible joke.

Me: So you think you could engineer a better one if I train you?

12 y/o: Dad why do you always make these awful jokes?

Me: Because I've got loco motives!

At that point I started laughing so hard I couldn't come up with anymore.

a Ménage à CAAW!

My mom was worried that we had a feral animal of some kind on the loose in the neighborhood. She said to my dad, "How close were they?" My dad's response was, "Well I don't know what kind of relationship they had, honey."

At first he took one step and then stopped. Then he took three steps and then stopped. He kept increasing his steps this way along the sidewalk when I thought to myself, “That’s an odd way of walking.”

The teacher asks the class, “ there are five birds on a power line, and you shoot two of them, how many are left?”

Johnny replies, “ none the rest flew away when they heard the shot.”

The teacher says, “ no three are left but I like the way you think.”

So then Johnny says, “ let me ask you a question. There are three women eating ice cream, one licking it, one sucking it, and one biting it, which ones married?”

The teacher says, “ the one sucking?”

Johnny says, “ no the one with the wedding ring but I like the way you think.”

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

This has been my favourite joke for at least a couple years now.

A man drives train in Bulgaria. One day, he falls asleep driving, and runs over someone walking on the tracks. Well, his case goes to court, and he gets the death sentence for murder. So, he's on death row and the executioner approaches him.

"What would you like for your last meal?"

"I would like a banana please."

The executioner thinks it's weird, but shrugs and gives him a banana. The guy eats his banana, waits awhile, and gets strapped into the electric chair. When the flip the switch, nothing happens! In Bulgaria, an act of divine intervention means you get released.

A few months go by, and the train driver has been working for a new company. Well, old habits die hard, and he falls asleep again, killing 2 people this time. The court has no patience for recklessness, so he ends up on death row again. After awhile, the same executioner from last time approaches him.

"You again? Shit. What do you want this time?"

"Two bananas please."

The executioner shrugs and hands him two bananas. A bit weird, but whatever. There's no way he can cheat death twice! But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again. The train driver walks a second time.

Some time passes, and the executioner is very busy. After another few months, the same dude shows up, apparently having run over 3 people with a train. Exacberated, the executioner approaches him for the third time.

"Let me guess. Three bananas?"

"Actually yes! How did you know?"

"Top bad! This has gone on long enough. No more bananas! Today you fry."

So, the train driver gets strapped into the chair with no last meal. But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again.

"I dont get it," says the executioner. "I didnt let you eat any bananas!"

"Its not the bananas. I'm a bad conductor."

Edit: Thanks for the Gold stranger! Edit: And Silver!

The bartender replies, "I'm sorry, but you're a rope. I can't serve you, and I'm not even sure how I could. Please leave."

A short time later, the rope comes back into the bar and asks for a beer.

The bartender, a bit annoyed at the situation, says, "Look, I told you I can't serve you. Just go away."

A few hours later, the rope comes back in again.

The bartender is getting mad now. "Look, I told you twice that I can't serve alcohol to a rope! Now get out and STAY OUT!"

Dejectedly, the rope leaves the bar and sits at the curb until a gentleman passes by. Suddenly, the piece of rope has an idea.

"Excuse me", says the rope, "but could you do me a favor?"

"Um... me?" says the puzzled gentleman. "Uh... I guess so..."

"Great! I just need you to tie a big ol' knot right in my middle."

"Well," says the gentleman. "I just so happens I was a former Eagle Scout. Here you go," and ties a perfect knot in the rope. "Will that be all?"

The rope pauses for a second and says, "Actually, could you pull apart my ends and unravel them for a bit?"

The gentleman obliges and goes on his merry way. The piece of rope, satisfied at its new appearance, heads back into the bar.

Furious, the bartender shouts, "HEY! Aren't you that same piece of rope I kicked out three times already?!?"

"No, I'm a frayed knot."

This happened today.

I'm at park/playground with my kid. He's playing, I'm throwing a ball for my dog.

Three little girls, maybe around 10 years old, run up. "Can we pet your dog?"

Me, "Sure, would you like to throw the ball for her?"

One of the girls takes the thrower and chucks the ball. It goes a long way.

Me: "Wow, great throw!"

Girl: "I've got my dad's arms."

Me (already laughing on the inside): "Really? What does he use?"

They stare at me.

Sigh.

Three older ladies were discussing the travails of getting older. One said, “Sometimes I catch myself with a jar of mayonnaise in my hand in front of the refrigerator and can’t remember whether I need to put it away, or start making a sandwich.”

The second lady chimed in, “Yes, some times I find myself on the landing of the stairs and can’t remember whether I was on my way up or on my way down.”

The third one responded, ” Well, I’m glad I don’t have that problem; knock on wood,” as she rapped her knuckles on the table, then told them “That must be the door, I’ll get it!” Reply

The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.

Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.

Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.

And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.

The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.

The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.

The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.

"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.

"Why not?"

"He's a cycle path".

This weekend there was more wind than usual and my husband's friend exclaimed "Wow! Where did this wind come from?"

I pointed in the direction it was coming from. "That way. It came from that way."

I could not contain my giggles for the rest of the days over that one. It was so simple, yet made me feel invincible. I'm still laughing at myself three days later.

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

We're currently planning our wedding (by this, I mean she and her mother are).

She sent me a text earlier this morning saying "picking flowers for the wedding is hard :-("

I responded "Don't pick them yet, our wedding isn't for another three months, there's no way they'll stay fresh that long."

Anyways, I think the flowers are pink or something.

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

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

Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.

To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.

I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.

Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.

You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.

The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.

The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.

Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.

Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.

But so far, I've quit cold turkey.

This happened last night. I laughed way too hard after it so figured I’d share. Driving with my three sons playing Simon says in the backseat.

Oldest son: “Simon says place your hand on someone else’s head” Me angrily interrupting: “NO we’re keeping our hands to ourselves” Oldest son: “awe cmon dad but we’re playing Simon says we’re not gonna fight” Me: “fine......Simon says keep your hands to yourself”

When we began discussing what to dine on this evening, she says to me, "How about we have something for dinner that starts with a 'p' and ends with an 'a' and isn't pasta?"

I roll my eyes and groan animatedly.

"There is no way a single pea is going to feed all three of us!"

^^She ^^laughed ^^harder ^^at ^^that ^^than ^^any ^^of ^^my ^^previous ^^corny ^^jibes, ^^so ^^I ^^thought ^^I'd ^^share...

Three college students (Jim, Tom, and Steve) decided to stay overnight in an abandoned house that was supposedly haunted, all to prove that there was nothing supernatural there. They decided to sleep in separate rooms to increase chances of scary things happening. Each room was connected to one long hallway which lead to some stairs. After a while, the three called it a night and went to their separate rooms.

At midnight, Jim woke up to the sound of a scream coming from one of the rooms. He ran out into the hall where he met Steve, who also had just woken up. They walked into Tom’s room, and he was nowhere to be found. “Surely this must be a prank” thought Jim, and he and Steve decided to go back to bed. He slept for almost an hour when Jim woke up to another scream coming from a different room. He ran into the hall, and this time Steve did not join him. He walked into Steve’s room, and noticed that Steve had completely vanished. Still in the mindset that this was a prank by his two friends two, Jim went back to bed.

An hour later, Jim woke up to the sound of thumping in the hallway. He went out of his room and saw a giant coffin with chainsaws attached to where arms would be. The coffin was also blocking the exit, meaning that the only way to go was the stairs! Jim immediately ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, then heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started running again! He ran into another set of stairs going up, so he ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, when once again, he heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started to run. Eventually, he reached a dead end in a bathroom. He turned around to see the coffin at the doorway. Frantically, Jim scavenged the cabinets for anything he could use to fight it. All he could find was some cough drops. Using all the strength he had, he threw the cough drops at the coffin. Upon impact, the coffin suddenly started to dissolve! Before long nothing remained of it. Jim was astonished! The cough drops had stopped his coffin.

Funniest horse puns and jokes

A white horse walks into a pub and asks for a whisky. The landlord says: “Hey, we’ve got a whisky named after you.” The horse replies: “What, George?”

A horse trudges slowly into a pub and orders a drink. “Evenin’” says the barman, “why the long face?”

A horse walks into a smart cocktail bar. The doorman says: “Wait you can’t come in here without a tie.”The horse goes out to his car, looks in the boot and gets a set of jump leads, which he ties around his neck.He goes back in and says to the barman: “This alright?” The barman says: “Hmm, ok… but don’t be starting anything.”

A poorly-looking horse limps into a bar with a bandage round his head. He orders a glass of champagne, a vintage brandy and two pints of Guinness. He downs the lot and says to the barman: “I shouldn’t really be drinking this with what I’ve got?” “Why, what have you got?” “About £2 and a carrot.”

Which side of a horse has more hair? The outside What’s a horse’s favourite TV show? Neighbours

A racehorse owner takes his horse to the vet. “Will I be able to race this horse again?,” he asks The vet replies: “Of course you will, and you’ll probably win!”

Did you hear about the depressed horse? He told a tale of whoa!

A dead horse walks into a bar and orders a whisky.

“I’m sorry, sir,” says the barman. “We don’t serve spirits..

A talking horse walks into a bar and approaches the manager. “Excuse me, good sir,” the horse says, “are you hiring?” The manager looks the horse up and down and says, “Sorry, pal. Why don’t you try the circus?” The horse nickers. “Why would the circus need a bartender?”

Did you hear about the man who was hospitalized with six plastic horses inside him? The doctor described his condition as stable.

What did the horse say when it fell? “I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!”

Q. What does it mean if you find a horseshoe? A. Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

A man rode his horse to town on Friday. The next day he rode back on Friday. How is this possible? The horse’s name was Friday.

Why did the pony have to gargle? Because it was a little horse!

What did the horse say when it fell? I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!

What did the teacher say when the horse walked into the class? Why the long face?

What do you call a horse that lives next door? A neigh-bo

And on the way back, my son and I tortillaed through three bags of family size Doritos.

We would have pointed fingers at one another, but they were already in our mouths. Sucky situation, I know.

I turned the car around and said, "Son, now our mission is snackfued."

Salty from our spell of bad luck, we licked our lips and hightailed it back to Walgreens. I sent a MSG to my wife to tell her about the crunch we were in.

Many of our guests had already arrived when we finally returned, holding up our carb-earned trophies.

It was then that my son's friend complimented our modest country estate: "Cool Ranch!"

What you need to know: We have a grocery store called Dominick's.

Artie and Dominick grew up in the same neighborhood and were best friends. But after highschool, they parted ways.

20 years later, they bump into each other on the street and the friends have a happy reunion. They talk about their lives after they left their old neighborhood. Dominick is a very wealthy lawyer and Artie is a mobster. Artie turns to Dominick and says "If you need anything at all, I'll get it for ya. Just ask."

Dominick :Well there is one thing... Artie: Anything. Dominick: Well I can't stand my wife. Could you get rid of her? Artie: Of course! Dominick: Wait! You're my friend, I gotta pay you for this. Artie: I can't take your money. Dominick: I have to give you something! Artie: Fine, give me a dollar.

So Dominick hands him a dollar and tells Artie when he'll be at work. The next day, Artie slips into the house and strangles the wife but as soon as her body hits the ground, the maid walks in. So Artie strangles her too, but as soon as her body hits the ground, the butler walks in. Artie strangles the butler and then the police burst in.

The next day in the papers, the head line reads: "Artie Chokes Three for a Dollar at Dominick's"

The end. My dad was saying the other day he won't be able to tell that joke anymore because Dominick's (the store) is closing where we live.

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

The other night, my wife and I went to this corporate outing at Medieval Times with work. For those who don't know, it's a pretend jousting tournament with a bunch of food and no silverware unless you ask for it. The Knights also ride around on horseback and try to keep everyone involved and have a good time.

So one of the things they do, is give a 'favor' to to people in the audience. Typically, pretty ladies and little girls. My wife got such a favor (carnation). Gave her some mock jealousy, and our evening continued.

So on and our way home, I asked:

"So, how was your night? "

" It was pretty good. "

" Good. How about your evening? "

She's still glaring at me, three days later.

Backstory: Many years ago I was living on my own about 45 minutes away from my parents. I had a stable job but didn't make much money and was broke most of the time. I had an old beat up car that was my only form of transportation. I would always have mechanical issues with the car and finally one morning it decided it wouldn't start no matter what.

I sheepishly had to call in to work and explain the situation and let them know that I would have to take a sick day but would figure some way to get to work the next day. I called my dad and he offered to come pick the car up on his trailer and take it back to his garage to work on it and get it in shape to trade it in.

He drives to my apartment, we get the car on the trailer and we are headed back to his house. The whole ride there I'm pretty pissed off and depressed about the whole situation. I'm worried about finding a new car and how I'm going to afford it and what I'm gonna do if I can't get it running again.

Dad senses my mood and pretty much keeps quiet the whole time. We get about three blocks away from his house and he utters this gem.

"Man, this car won't get off my ass. He's been tailgating me for 45 minutes now."

This was the perfect thing to snap me out of my funk and break the tension. I absolutely lost it. Only a Dad Joke could make me realize how trivial the whole thing was. I have told this joke to others who didn't really think it was that funny, but to me at the time it was the greatest thing ever.

Thanks Dad.

Three bulls one large, one medium, and one small are out of grass in their pasture. The large bull looks over next to their pasture and sees another pasture with beautiful and lush grass, so he takes a few steps back and charges straight into the fence and breaks it! The large bull started eating.

The two smaller bulls come in too and start eating the new grass.

"Hey!" said the large bull, "I put in the effort to eat this grass, go find your own!"

So the medium bull finds another pasture right next to the ones they're in, then he charges at the fence and breaks it and starts eating in that pasture. So the small bull comes in and starts eating.

"Hey!" exclaimed the medium bull, who then continued on to give the same spiel that the large bull gave the two smaller bulls.

Then the small bull looks around, but doesn't see any new grass fields. However, he spots a fence that led to a road. So the small bull opens the gate and walks and walks and walks to find that pasture.

Wanna know the moral of the story? A little bull comes a long way.

My fiancée asked the appraiser if he took the train into work and he said "no way, the train takes me. I'd have to eat a whole bunch of Wheaties before I could haul something that big."

He also had three daughters. A diamond dad joke.

Not from my father, from me, as a father of three. I've kept a large plastic frog in the freezer. He's large, inconvenient and gets in the way every time I stock the freezer. But, I've kept him there for 15 years for a Dad Joke that still makes me laugh every time.

Someone: Why do you keep a frog in the freezer? Me: Because if I kept him in the oven he'd melt.

Meet Freezer Frog: http://imgur.com/gallery/YSzX1HK/

Grandpa: Did you know I was born with three knees?

7 year old me: No way grandpa, that's impossible!

Grandpa: Sure I was, I have a right knee, a left knee, and a weenie!

It's better when spoken, but still my favorite joke.

An old-slow snail decides one day that he has had enough of the townsfolk belittling him for his pace. He spends about three-days making his way over to the Car-Dealership so that he can buy himself a sports car.

While at the dealership he asks the salesman if they will customize his Corvette for him. The Salesman replies, "Sure! What can we do for you!?"

The snail replies, "I would like you to paint a big, red "S" on the side of my car?"

The salesman says, confused, "Of course we can."

The customization is done and the Salesman turns to the Snail and says, "We're all finished, but I have to ask---While looking through your information I couldn't find any reason why you would want an 'S' on your car---Your first or last name doesn't start with 'S', So--Why the heck did you want that 'S' on your car?!"

The Snail turns to him and replies gently- " For years I have been tormented by the people of my town, and now I'll get to fly by them in my fancy sports-car, and they'll all say: 'Wow! Look at that 'S' Car go!"

On our way to Connecticut, my s/o and I saw this sign.

I couldn't help myself.

 

I laughed about it again 4 hours later.

     

         

I told three other people about it the next day.

I just texted my dad, "can i call you when i get out of work?" (Nothing serious) I'm at work right now and the way we file prospect students in the admissions office i work at is by the last three letters of their last name and the first letter of their first name. Before my dad could answer in dad-ways, i read the next file and it said "KAN U". I rolled my eyes when i heard my dad say "I don't know, can you?" In my mind.

The message had already been sent and dad's were uniting.

You guessed it, he replied in exactly that manner.

If you don't understand English grammar, which most people don't, I should have said "may I?"

When I was in high school, I babysat 2 boys (who at the time of this story, were aged 7 and 10) for some extra cash. One day I was eating dinner with the family when the younger brother said that he couldn't wait to be in the fourth grade like his older brother.

"It's not that great," said the older one. "Once you're in the fourth grade, you have to read a bunch of books for a summer reading log and write a report on one." (In my county, there are mandatory summer assignments, the most common ones are English assignments.)

Their dad said, "Summer projects are good! They help stimulate your brain over the summer! If you don't brush up on your education for those three months, you could lose all of your smartness and never get it back!"

Older brother: "Yeah right. And how did you find that out?"

Me: "Well, they do say that firsthand experience is the best way to learn."

An Aussie blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates. 'I'm sorry,' St Peter said; 'but Heaven is suffering from an overload of godly souls and we have been forced to put up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden of Heavenly Arrivals.'

'That's cool' said the blonde, 'What does the entrance exam consist of?'

'Just three questions' said St Peter.

'Which are?' asked the blonde.

'The first,' said St Peter, 'is, which two days of the week start with the letter 'T'? The second is 'How many seconds are there in a year'?

The third is 'What was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?''

'Now,' said St Peter, 'Go away and think about those questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to have those answers for me.'

So the blonde went away and gave those three questions some considerable thought (I expect you to do the same).

The following morning, St Peter called upon the blonde and asked if she had considered the questions, to which she replied, 'I have.'

'Well then,' said St Peter, 'Which two days of the week start with the letter T?'

The blonde said, 'Today and Tomorrow.'

St Peter pondered this answer for some time and decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the question.

'Well then, could I have your answer to the second of the three questions' St Peter went on, 'how many seconds in a year?' The blonde replied, 'Twelve!' 'Only twelve' exclaimed St Peter, 'How did you arrive at that figure?' 'Easy,' said the blonde, 'there's the second of January, the second of February, right through to the second of December, giving a total of twelve seconds.'

St Peter looked at the blonde and said, 'I need some time to consider your answer before I can give you a decision.' He walked away shaking his head.

A short time later, St Peter returned to the blonde. 'I'll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?'

The blonde replied: 'Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer.' 'Really!' exclaimed St Peter, 'and what is the answer?' 'It's Andy.' 'Andy??' 'Yes, Andy,' said the blonde. This totally floored St Peter and he paced this way and that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand the suspense any longer and turning to the blonde, asked 'How in God's name did you arrive at

This has been my favorite joke for at least a couple years now.

A man drives train in Bulgaria. One day, he falls asleep driving, and runs over someone walking on the tracks. Well, his case goes to court, and he gets the death sentence for murder. So, he's on death row and the executioner approaches him.

"What would you like for your last meal?"

"I would like a banana please."

The executioner thinks it's weird, but shrugs and gives him a banana. The guy eats his banana, waits awhile, and gets strapped into the electric chair. When the flip the switch, nothing happens! In Bulgaria, an act of divine intervention means you get released.

A few months go by, and the train driver has been working for a new company. Well, old habits die hard, and he falls asleep again, killing 2 people this time. The court has no patience for recklessness, so he ends up on death row again. After awhile, the same executioner from last time approaches him.

"You again? Shit. What do you want this time?"

"Two bananas please."

The executioner shrugs and hands him two bananas. A bit weird, but whatever. There's no way he can cheat death twice! But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again. The train driver walks a second time.

Some time passes, and the executioner is very busy. After another few months, the same dude shows up, apparently having run over 3 people with a train. Exacerbated, the executioner approaches him for the third time.

"Let me guess. Three bananas?"

"Actually yes! How did you know?"

"Top bad! This has gone on long enough. No more bananas! Today you fry."

So, the train driver gets strapped into the chair with no last meal. But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again.

"I don't get it," says the executioner. "I didn't let you eat any bananas!"

"Its not the bananas. I'm a bad conductor."

Edit 1: Thanks for my first gold /u/Lhjnhnas!!!

Three older ladies were discussing the travails of getting older. One said, “Sometimes I catch myself with a jar of mayonnaise in my hand in front of the refrigerator and can’t remember whether I need to put it away, or start making a sandwich.”

The second lady chimed in, “Yes, some times I find myself on the landing of the stairs and can’t remember whether I was on my way up or on my way down.”

The third one responded, ” Well, I’m glad I don’t have that problem; knock on wood,” as she rapped her knuckles on the table, then told them “That must be the door, I’ll get it!”

Okay, so this has been my favorite joke for at least a couple years now.

A man drives train in Bulgaria. One day, he falls asleep driving, and runs over someone walking on the tracks. Well, his case goes to court, and he gets the death sentence for murder. So, he's on death row and the executioner approaches him.

"What would you like for your last meal?"

"I would like a banana please."

The executioner thinks it's weird, but shrugs and gives him a banana. The guy eats his banana, waits awhile, and gets strapped into the electric chair. When the flip the switch, nothing happens! In Bulgaria, an act of divine intervention means you get released.

A few months go by, and the train driver has been working for a new company. Well, old habits die hard, and he falls asleep again, killing 2 people this time. The court has no patience for recklessness, so he ends up on death row again. After awhile, the same executioner from last time approaches him.

"You again? Shit. What do you want this time?"

"Two bananas please."

The executioner shrugs and hands him two bananas. A bit weird, but whatever. There's no way he can cheat death twice! But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again. The train driver walks a second time.

Some time passes, and the executioner is very busy. After another few months, the same dude shows up, apparently having run over 3 people with a train. Exacerbated, the executioner approaches him for the third time.

"Let me guess. Three bananas?"

"Actually yes! How did you know?"

"Top bad! This has gone on long enough. No more bananas! Today you fry."

So, the train driver gets strapped into the chair with no last meal. But, when they flip the switch, nothing happens again.

"I don't get it," says the executioner. "I didn't let you eat any bananas!"

"Its not the bananas. I'm a bad conductor."