To Retire Puns

I corrected him by saying that is plenty of money to buy some new tires for your car.

The physical pain on his face was priceless.

He couldn't handle any more hare-racing adventures

Get a job at the tire shop.

It was too Boeing

I’ll call it my No Worries Atoll.

I just don’t have the patients...

He didn’t want to make a spectacle.

Because Jesus saves...

"don't quit your day job," I said

"They're so optimistic, even their flag is a big plus" Good one, Dad.

He replied, “I refuse to work with compost! It’s so degrading!”

No pinchin'

Iran.

He's the new temp. Seems like a cool guy.

Chris Cross Applesauce

It was a real Fonzi scheme.

Bob turns to him and says, "thank you, that means a lot".

Xbox-er

He said, “I just...want to live in the present.”

It seems he made a killing on the stalk market.

They couldn't find another man of his caliber.

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

I've got some really big shoes to fill!

He can’t seem to deal with the aftermath.

Long time no sea

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”

There was a race horse named Pat, who was one of the greatest race horses to ever live. He set records that were near impossible to beat. After a long time of racing, he retired to an old stable with some old friends. They were very happy that he retired there to stay with him, and congratulated him on all of his records that he set.

Once Pat retired, he started keeping track of all the up and coming horses that were winning a lot. There was a race horse named Charlie that was doing really great and winning all his races. Pat saw this horse and watched him race. Charlie started to break all of Pat’s records and Pat was a little upset with this.

After a while, Charlie decided to retire after an extremely successful career in racing. By chance, Charlie decided to retire at the same stable that Pat retired in. When Charlie entered the stable, everyone went up to him to congratulate him on his records and wins. Pat went up to Charlie and said, “Hey Charlie congratulations on all of your wins! You broke a lot of my records and I was very impressed.” Charlie responds, “go away old man, I’m better than you ever were.” Pat was blown away by his response. He galloped away from Charlie with defeat.

After a while of thinking, Pat decides to challenge Charlie to a race. Charlie agreed to it and wanted to race right away. He said “We will race to the tree over there and turn around and come back and whoever gets there first will be the winner.” Pat was still healthy but he needed a few weeks to get his legs back into shape for the race. Charlie gives Pat 2 weeks to get ready.

After 2 weeks pass, they are ready to race. “Hey Pat, before we race I want to warn you that I win my races by passing them by the end. So don’t get all cocky and think you are going to win.” Charlie says. Pat thanks him for the warning and they start getting set to race.

The gun sounds and they are off to race. Pat starts out in front, and nears the finish. Out of know where, Charlie zooms ahead of Pat and wins the race.

Pat was very disappointed in his loss, but congratulated Charlie anyways. A dog comes up to them and says, “Wow, that was a fantastic race! Neither of you should be upset with that. You both were so great!” Charlie looks to Pat and Pat looks to Charlie. They are astonished. Charlie says, “Say that again! Say it again!” The dog says a little confused, “Well I just said that you both were so great out there.” Pat says, “Charlie! It’s a talking dog!”

A guy sees a sign in front of a house:

"Talking Dog for Sale."

He rings the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees a black mutt just sitting there.

"You talk?" he asks.

"Yep," the mutt replies.

"So, what's your story?"

The mutt looks up and says, "Well, I discovered my gift of talking pretty young and I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA about my gift, and in no time they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies eight years running. The jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn't getting any younger and I wanted to settle down. So I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security work, mostly wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings there and was awarded a batch of medals. Had a wife, a mess of puppies, and now I'm just retired."

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

The owner says, "Ten dollars."

The guy says, "This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him, so cheap?"

The owner replies, "'Cause he's fucking liar. He didn't do any of that shit."

A number of years ago I was in a rock band. We were hugely successful, playing some of the biggest venues and entertaining swarms of fans.

The last shoes we ever played were on our world tour. We played the Americas and then flew over to Europe. We played our way through Russia and even a couple of gigs in China, before selling out our final show in Japan.

It was a hell of a Journey, but it was time for me to hang up my guitar. I retired from the rock star life and got an office job in Tokyo.

I made a few friends at work, and grew close with one in particular, Narada-san. One day Narada had the day off for a funeral, but that wasn't enough; he needed more time. He was torn between his obligation to return to work and his desire to have more time at home. He asked me what he should do.

The answer was simple. I picked up my guitar and played a Japanese version of our biggest hit from 1981:

Don't Stop Bereaving

After a good dinner and a bottle of wine, they retire for the night, and go to sleep. Some hours later, Holmes wakes up and nudges his faithful friend.

"Watson, look up at the sky and tell me what you see."

"I see millions and millions of stars, Holmes," replies Watson.

"And what do you deduce from that?"

Watson ponders for a minute.

"Well, astronomically, it tells me that there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Astrologically, I observe that Saturn is in Leo. Horologically, I deduce that the time is approximately a quarter past three. Meteorologically, I suspect that we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. Theologically, I can see that God is all powerful, and that we are a small and insignificant part of the universe. What does it tell you, Holmes?"

Holmes is silent for a moment. "Watson, you idiot!" he says. "Someone has stolen our tent!"

He calls it The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth.

So help me Gauze.

My butcher is going from five days a week to four days a week in order to ease himself into retirement. I don't think I can shop there anymore. It's just too odd having a butcher who can't do cold turkey.

"Hurry! Cane!"

Apparently one of them was assaulted.

They retired to their separate quarters‬

It meant very little to my retiring coworker.

RETIRED HUSBAND

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to WalMart. Unfortunately, like most men; I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter, from the local WalMart:

Dear Mrs. Harris:

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion, in our store.

We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to, ban both of you from the store.

Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Harris, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:

1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money. We don't have a Code 3.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a, 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while, loudly humming the, 'Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his, 'Madonna Look' using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed;

'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

15. Took a bo

In a village just outside Sherwood Forest lived Old Robinhood, he had lived a very exciting life with his band of merry men, and his cause of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and had a fantastic time doing it. He even had a sign outside his door that said, Robinhood, Bandit - but somehow the law never seemed to have noticed and he had lived in plain sight, doing good deeds, giving away money anonymously and living for the cause.

But now age had started to catch up and not being as nimble as he once was close escapes had started to get uncomfortably close. So he decided to retire and hand over the leadership of his band to his son.

So, Robin called his son over to him and said, ‘Son, I want you to take over from me as leader of the merry men. Steal and pillage all you want, but never forget the cause - we only take from the rich to give to the poor’.

‘Father, I will do as you say’ said Robin’s son whose name was Robinson, ‘but tell me one thing, why do you stay anonymous when giving money away?

Why not let people know of your good deeds - you have a sign outside that says bandit and you’ve never been caught, why not add the cause to the sign and say ‘Robinhood, Bandit, steals from the rich to give to the poor’?

‘Fool, screamed Robin, if you put the cause over the sign then you will get caught’

I was visiting my folks, and decided to take em out to dinner when Ma got home. We go for a feed, all is well. I'm standing up at the end of the table, leaning on its edge with me phone out as Ma was organising herself. Da came back from the loo, and asked me what I was doing on me phone.

"Checking me balance." I replied, showing him my bank app. I had just been paid and was moving money around to savings and such, after paying for dinner by phone NFC.

Without warning he gives me a good hip n shoulder, not hard enough to send me flying but enough to shift me a bit.

"Ya balance looks shit, boy."

He smirks at me as Ma groans audibly. Cheeky old bugger.

This is why he's going in a crooked retirement home you always see on the News.

A while ago, my daughter told me she was into fan fiction. I told her I used to be as well, but I changed to air conditioner fiction... because it was cooler.

She was not amused.

I have now created a subreddit called r/AirConditionerFiction

If you have the time and the desire, drop by and leave a short work of fiction regarding air conditioning. If this is successful, I will give my daughter a link and wait to see her facial expression. I will also prepare for being put in a less-then-stellar retirement home.

He couldn't handle any more hare-racing adventures