Touching You, Touching Me Puns

He goes to the doctor to discuss his depression. When he arrives back home he has a huge smile on his face. He rushed past his wife and heads into the basement, where he immediately starts tinkering with a brand new invention.

His wife comes downstairs, gives the invention a once-over, then asks "What on earth is this thing, and how this supposed to help your depression?".

"Honey, the doctor told me working on this should have me feeling better in no time!" replies the man. He then proceeds to describe in detail how the machine cracks eggs, steams them, and flips them out onto a plate in under a minute, all at the touch of a button.

"But what on earth does this have to do with your depression? What did that quack doctor tell you to do?" asks the wife

The man replies: "He told me to work on my self egg-steam".

EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.

( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )

Hey everybody,

The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.

Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.

You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.

That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.

So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.

Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:

• You live in a very different timezone to Syd, AU - GMT+10
• You have a good sense of humour
• You're not in this purely to grow your 'net rep
• You're interested in being fair, and maintaining fairness
• You maintain civility in yourself and your responses at all times
• You have a bit of time every day to go through reports, spam, and post comments
• You understand that your moderatorship will initially be a trial, and can be revoked at any time if you aren't being magical and rad
• Some general CSS/subreddit formatting knowledge wouldn't go astray, but is not required

Here's what I am not looking for:

• Strong, cemented opinions about what constitutes a dad joke and what doesn't - everybody's dad and humour is different
• An overzealous post remover - I am not looking for an enforcer, the title moderator implies moderation
• A(nother) dictator - it is my preference that this subreddit be gently guided, and not forcibly ruled, we let the community find itself and we listen to what they say

If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int

W: Stop touching me with your foot, your sock is scratchy!

Me: Which one, this one? (Proceeds to rub her leg with foot)

W: Both of them they're the same ones!

Me: No I have different socks on.

W: No you don't!

Me: Yeah I do, ones on the left and ones on the right.

Background: Where I live, we have these little plastic cards instead of tickets to get on trains. You load it up with money electronically and then "touch on" at the train station and "touch off" when you get off at your destination. The other day I touched on at the station. Shortly after arriving, the meeting I had been going to got postponed. So I touched off. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't been charged for sitting in the station for five minutes so I went up to the ticketing booth.

Me: Is there anyway for me to check the balance of this online or something?

Conductor: Oh, no need. I can do that for you!

He takes the card, places it on the end of his finger, and holds it up to his eyes.

Conductor: Yep, perfectly balanced!

I think he was surprised by how funny I found this.

Little brother touching some chains:

Sister: Stop touching those, Jack

Me: Yeah, chain on you!

Brother: That might have been the worst joke I've ever heard...

I'm not a dad but right there I felt like one

My Dad was the worst. And by that, I mean the best. He had a Dad Joke for everything.

I accidently left my wallet in my pants and they went through the wash?

"Don't you know it's illegal to launder money?" He would crack.

We would drive by the cemetery and he would always remark.

"That place is so popular, people are dying to get in"

Many groans were had.

I would ask him, "Dad, where do you get all these awful jokes?" and he looked square in the eye and said.

"Son, on the day you were born - your Grandfather - my father gave me a book. '1001 Dad Jokes' and that where I get them from"

And life continued. Any opportunity to crack wise he would take it. Even when I moved out and got my own place it didn't stop. I had my Dad over to help me repaint the walls from cream to white.

"Boy" He whistled. "This wall sure pales in comparison to that one"

My eyes rolled and he just shrugged. "It's the book!"

He couldn't even help himself at my wedding and broke out a Dad Joke during the toast.

"If this is the toast, where are the eggs?"

"Sorry son, it's the book!" He said with a devilish grin.

So months pass and my wife is in labor at the hospital with our first child. I'm sitting in the waiting room with my dad for support. Suddenly, a nurse comes out beaming with glee.

"Congratulations, sir! It's a girl!"

Me and my dad jump up and whoop for joy, hugging. I can't wait to go in and see my wife and child.

"Wait son" My dad says and pulls a little book out of his jacket pocket. "This is for you"

I look at the little book and sure enough, it's "1001 Dad Jokes"

I tear up instantly.

"I...I.." I stammer.."I'm touched.."

My dad gets the world's biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

"Hi touched...." He pauses for effect.

"I'm Dad"

Walked in on my roommate listening to All of Me by John Legend whole touching his stomach with each piano note.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm playing my organs with the song," he said.

A massive groan ensued.

There was a zoo employee holding a polar bear foot for children to touch. As he pushed the stroller past, my husband paused, leaned towards him, and said, "aren't you chilly? You have bear feet!"

Then he grinned and laughed. I wasn't quite close enough to hear the setup, so he even got to repeat the joke for me.

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

EDIT: I somehow JUST saw the Mod Sticky post from last week, where a lot of users have expressed similar sentiments to these. I apologize to the mods if this is not appropriate and respect your decision if you want to delete it. I just wanted to see if people were thinking the same kind of thing. Still, read it if ya like.

It used to be that /r/dadjokes was a place to post actual stories of real dad humor. 'My dad pulled out this groaner at dinner.' 'Just became a dad...I think I get it now!' These are the things that warm my heart and tickle my corny bone. And I don't think I'm alone.

Now, we're arrogant enough to think we know the formula for dad humor, so we can post anything reminiscent of it, and it counts as a dad joke. It's as if we think we own dad humor now, and we can bend it and shape it at will.

Let me tell you, folks. WE DO NOT OWN DAD HUMOR.

Even the dads among us don't own it. I think the universe just channels it through them in brilliant, glorious, involuntary sneezes. Some are more deft than others, and are seen by the universe as more worthy outlets. But they do not own it.

We can get close to elusive heart of dad humor, we can approach it, we can dance around it...but we can never touch it. This is where I take issue with posts like this one, which currently has over 4000 upvotes and 2000 net karma. Is it reminiscent of dad-like punly-ness? Would a dad chortle heartily at reading it? Yes, almost certainly yes. But does that make it a dad joke? No...I would argue not.

Dad jokes are also not just about the jokes themselves. They're about the response--that he manages to be surprised at his own genius, even on the eightieth repetition. They're about the face-palms and straight stares of family members. What is a dad joke without context?

My proposed solution: ban link/image posts. I wish it wouldn't have to come to that, but I can't see another way to get back on track to the real goal here. I have hover zoom--I understand the desire for instant gratification. I've skipped over interesting looking videos because they required a click.

But that's not why I come here.

I understand that there are legitimate dad jokes transmitted via text, or perhaps requiring a bit of visual context. At this point, though, I think they are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause. They can always be transcribed into text, or included in a self-post. Maybe it seems a bit extreme, especially in the face

Yesterday, I was running back from the school bus after asking the driver to give me a moment because my disabled son had had an accident and I was about finished cleaning him up. It was raining and muddy and I was in my bare feet, but this is the norm out here.

On the way back I managed to get my big toenail ripped up off the nailbed down to about halfway to the cuticle. Never done that before in 31 years, and oh my, I have to say it was a whole different level of exquisite agony when I finally noticed it. Funny how you never notice things like that until you see all the blood and how it doesn't even hurt until you touch it.

Sparing you the details of tracking in blood for five minutes before I even noticed I'd done it, the husband cringed quite a bit when he got home from work and saw it.

Fast forward to today--my period started and I had one hell of a headache all day long. He gets home from work and asks, "you ok, babe?" Because I'm usually pretty cheerful when he walks in the door, but today I was cranky as fuck.

"Eh, period started. Headache. Glad you're home, I can take a pain pill and you can watch the kids."

"Oh." He looked me up and down slowly and grinned. "So... now you're hurting from head... to toe?"

Motherfucker.

Daughter: pushes away her plate Daddy, I'm done with my supper. Me: No, you're not. You haven't even touched your pork. Daughter: reaches out with one finger and taps on her pork chop, then looks up at me and smiles

So I just realized that my "epic" theatre joke is also a dadjoke.

Now this requires some explaining before I get to the joke. I just completed my 55th theatre production - mostly community theatre; most designing and running sound, but I get on stage sometimes. A decade or so ago, I came up with a terrible pun. Told it, got groans, and promptly forgot about it.

A production or two later, someone said - "Hey, aren't you going to tell your joke?" It took a little prompting to remind me of it. Once I was reminded, I told the joke - to more groans.

I enjoyed the groans so much - and was touched that someone remembered the joke that I'd forgotten. So I did decide it was going to forevermore be: THE JOKE.

So the NEXT production, I started warning people that "The Joke" was coming. One or two remembered the previous time I'd told it, and reacted - "Oh god. Please no."

So now it has truly become a thing. Every production I'm in, I start reminding people that The Joke is coming, and the reactions from those who know the joke really help set up the anticipation.

So finally it happens. Most theatre productions I've been in run Fri-Sat-Sun performances. And thus, as I explain, I can only tell The Joke after the last Friday night's performance ends, and before the last Saturday's performance begins. It shifts if the days are different because The Joke depends on the number of remaining shows.

So, finally that time period comes, and I explain that I can only tell the joke during that time period, only the once per production - from auditions to strike - and that we're in that period of time.... which is known as.... the "cancer period". AND would you like to know WHY this period of time is known as the "cancer period"?

(at which point the tension for the punchline is usually quite palpable)

"Because we have...... TUMOR!" (as I hold up two fingers).

This is usually followed by shouts to "GET OUT!" and threats of violence against my person. hehehe

And the NEXT time, when I start warning that "The Joke" is coming, most of these groan "Oh god... no...." and helps set it up for the next poor bunch of folks who haven't yet heard it. :)

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

Hungry boyfriend: i want ribs. Me: (touches his ribcage) but you already have some!

So today in my physiology lecture we were talking about muscles and we touched on connective tissue and our prof said something about "broad bands of connective tissue" and I turned to my friend next to me and go "If there's broad bands of connective tissue do you think there's Wi-Fi of connective tissue?". He just sighed and told me he was going to punch me before going back to writing his notes with a look of pure hatred on his face.

(I tried to contain my laughter to his reaction and ended up snorting really loudly like a minute later when I heard him snicker)

I had just left a client's office that about 2 hours from my home. My wife calls me and asks about the driving conditions (it's snowing lightly here) and also tells me that she is headed back to her hair dresser. Apparently the hair dresser missed a section last week when my wife got her regular dye job and needs to be touched up. The conversation ended this way: Mrs BMQ: "Drive safe Honey" Me: "Thank you Dear. Die safe"
Mrs BMQ: "huh? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!?!" thinking I had just told her to go kill herself ---- Safely ---- Me: "Dye Safe - don't get any in your eyes!" Mrs BMQ: "oooohhhhh" groan

We're learning about all the gauges you can use on the touch panels. There's quite a few on the screen. The guy next to me said, "I guess you could say that page is very engaging." Everyone groaned I told him he's going on Reddit.

I was sitting in his seat talking to my mother/grandparents for a bit when an idea hit me. So after some brief set up, I went searching for dad.

Me: I really like the small touches they added, like the personalised messages on the table placements

Dad: What?

Me: You know, the name tag to show where people are sitting

Dad: Yeah, I know what you're talking about, but there's no message on them.

Me: Yes there is! It's on the inside of them, just have to flip them over to read it

Dad: I'm telling you, there's no message on them!

Me: I absolutely guarantee that there is a personalised message written on your name tag!!

So, determined to prove me wrong we go inside to his table and he flips over his name tag to find, in my handwriting, "told you so".

We are laying down, and she told me how we never actually touch because there's always an atom between us. She then said, "it's crazy how everything is made up of atoms," to which I replied "I'm made of atoms, you're made of susans."

My dad (57) and I (17) were washing our hands after taking care of business in the public restroom of our local grocery store. The sinks were automatic, the kind you don't have to touch. After wetting my hands and getting some soap, my sink shut off and his kept running. I could not get mine to turn back on as he rinsed his mitts. As I struggle to get it back on by waving my hands my dad grabs some paper towel and looks at me with the most serious expression and he says "Ever feel like you're... Invisible?" Then giggles like a schoolgirl out the door.

I was doing some wood-burning/pyrography this evening, and my husband was taking a look at the tool I use...

Him: ..So you've got different tips for that?

Me: Yep! The first one is don't touch the hot part.

Friends and family seeing my new hair cut for the first time have all asked me the same question:

"Oh, you cut your hair off?"

"No", I respond. I let them struggle with an internal dilemma, doubting reality, wondering if they were losing touch life, until I finally respond, "My hairdresser cut it off."

Dad was telling me about all of his research he's doing before they make their purchase. He reads reviews and watches videos and asks friends, the whole nine yards. He said that some of the highest rated cars he's seen, such as from Consumer Report, are just really ugly to him. The following conversation ensued:

Me: What's so ugly about them? Can you put your finger on it?

Dad: Well, your mom and I are going to visit a dealership next week, so then I'll be able to put my finger on it. Get it? Because I'll be able to touch-

Me: Yeah, I get it.

Me: Who is our nurse tonight? Wifey: I think it's Mida. New dad: You know what they say, trust the Mida's touch. Both wifeys:groans

I think he will do just fine

One summer my dad who was a jack of all trades construction worker type, my cousin that's an electrician and my dad's uncle who had Parkinson's disease were all working on an electrical project at my Uncles house. Replacing a power meter is pretty dangerous if the power is not shut off and if you touch the wrong thing, it could very easily kill you.

So here these three men are. My electrician cousin says "Okay, don't friggin touch me. I gotta slide this washer on here and if I touch the sides, I'll fry." So as he's doing this, he's shaking because he's nervous. Eventually he stops to take a breather and my uncle says "Give me that thing." To which my dad responds "Are you crazy? This is not a job for Parkinson's"

My uncle gets kinda bummed and says something about not being able to do anything anymore and my dad tries to cheer him up by saying "Oh come on, there are plenty jobs you can have, Rick".

My uncle says "Yea, like what?"

My dad responds "I dunno... Sifting."

My uncle laughed harder than I had seen him laugh in a long time.

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.

I looked in the fridge to start helping my mom bake pies for family dinner.

Me: "Dad, when did you start drinking alcoholic root beer?"

Dad: "It's not mine."

Mom: "He got that for you, because it's not your father's root beer."

Dad: "The Dad's root beer is mine though, so don't touch it."

Me: "Did you notice that I touched your boobs last night while you were sleeping? They were nice."

Her: "What? Did they say please and thank you?"

Wife: I've been shocking things all day, every time I touch something I get a shock.

Me: I don't know why it's shocking, you should expect it by now.

Ever since I can remember, every time my dad and I walked next to each other and our hands accidentally touched, he would say, "You're going to have to buy me dinner first".

I was on the phone with my dad, and he told me he'd put me in touch with a friend of his about finding a job. I asked who, but just then my dad sneezed into the phone.

Me: "Thanks! What's his name? I'll give him a call."

Dad: loud, noisy sneeze

Me: "Huh, I don't think we've met. How do you spell that?"

Dad: "Not funny. I need a tissue."

They were sitting next to each other at the dinner table.

His Aunt: Hey, can you reach that butter for me?

Dad: reaches over and touches butter Yes I can!^ha^ha^ha^ha

Sent my dad a text to wish him Happy Father's Day. ( My Dad loves texting so that's why I did it in a text ) He mentioned that he was part of the Elks Serving Club. I asked what he did in the club and here was the exchange.

Dad: No song singing here!! We raise money for small charities, etc... Have the odd drink!! lol

Me: The odd drink, eh?

Dad: Yep, don't touch the even ones.

Me: Ha ha

Dad: We have the 1st, 3rd, 5th, 7th, etc...

Me: I get it. What do you do with the even ones?

Dad: Don't count them!!!

MURDER AT COSTCO STORE

Tired of constantly being broke and stuck in an unhappy marriage, a young husband decided to solve both problems by taking out a large insurance policy on his wife with himself as the beneficiary and then arranging to have her killed.

A 'friend of a friend' put him in touch with a nefarious dark-side underworld figure who went by the name of 'Artie.' Artie explained to the husband that his going price for snuffing out a spouse was $10,000.

The Husband said he was willing to pay that amount but that he wouldn't have any cash on hand until he could collect his wife's insurance money. Artie insisted on being paid at least something up front, so the man opened his wallet, displaying the single dollar that rested inside. Artie sighed, rolled his eyes and reluctantly agreed to accept the dollar as down payment for the dirty deed.

A few days later, Artie followed the man's wife to the local Costco supermarket. There, he surprised her in the produce department and proceeded to strangle her with his gloved hands. As the poor unsuspecting woman drew her last breath and slumped to the floor, the manager of the produce department stumbled unexpectedly onto the murder scene. Unwilling to leave any living witnesses behind, Artie had no choice but to strangle the produce manager as well.

However, unknown to Artie, the entire proceedings were captured by the hidden security cameras and observed by the shop's security guard, who immediately called the police. Artie was caught and arrested before he could even leave the premises.

Under intense questioning at the police station, Artie revealed the whole sordid plan, including his unusual financial arrangements with the hapless husband who was also quickly arrested.

The next day in the newspaper, the headline declared...

(You're going to hate me for this.........)

'ARTIE CHOKES 2 for $1.00 Costco