Tour Spiel Puns

I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.

Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

(Mild self-harm warning)

As Isaac continued to lead the tour with slightly more pep than before, I sat quietly, never leaving my seat nor speaking a single word. After helplessly witnessing a man get electrocuted to death only for everyone to laugh about his gruesome fate, my mind was largely numb, simply struggling to not replay the scene over and over on a loop. Even as Isaac shocked more unfortunate beasts into showing themselves while the tour progressed, I was a ghost among the jovial heathens, despite my heart thundering in my chest with each zap and subsequent cry of pain.

Additionally, Isaac’s satisfied grin as the rich man convulsed and cooked burned itself into my mind like a brand onto a heifer’s hide. No matter how desperately I tried to rid myself of it, the image was a scar among my self-numbing brain. I merely wished for the tour to conclude, so that I could leave Isaac’s side without offending him. I feared what he would do otherwise.

Finally, after a couple hours, we left the open safari area and entered an exhibition known as the ‘Curious Wonders.’ From feeding and my notes, I knew the creatures housed here were of either the most unique or the most ‘entertaining’ variety. Still, I had not seen them all, as a few had hidden themselves among their décor during breakfast, but I knew Isaac wouldn’t allow them to hide for the patrons’ presence. More would be blatantly electrocuted, and I would feel my stomach curl into tighter knots. Inevitably, I would feel the cold claws of helpless compassion grip my soul all over, again and again.

Blankly, I stared as Isaac quickly showcased a snake with two heads and spiked scales that glittered like solid gold. I did nothing while he talked about two furballs which comically rolled and jumped like cartoons. And even as he boasted about the cat-ape named Ginko I had read about upon my initial arrival, I barely looked at the beast. None of them phased me. None of the strange, unique creatures ripped my mind away from itself, until we came to the middle of the division.

Instinctively, my eyes landed on its visage as it moved in my periphery from behind its glass

Back when other folks were becoming Robber Barons, or at least homesteading good farmland, my people didn’t have the good sense to do anything that would set their descendants—namely, me—up for an easy life. Instead, they decided to homestead in the Current River Valley. Ain’t no one getting rich down here. Over the generations my family gathered up more and more cheap land, and then those bastards left it all to me.

If chert rocks were valuable, well, I’d have me a goddamn fortune. I’ve inherited 500 acres of rocks, ridgeland, and woods, along with enough river frontage to flood at inconvenient times. The timber that covers most of the place might be worth something, but good luck getting it out once you’ve cut it. There ain’t no easy way to get logs out of here other than to float them down the river, but nowadays there ain’t saw mills on the river like there used to be. It’s a lot of land, but it’s not land that’s going to generate an easy income. I probably would’ve sold the whole place years ago, but it won’t fetch that much, and then I’d have to find somewhere else to live. I’m kind of stuck here.

Fortunately, a few years back I finally figured out a way to make a little bit of money from the place: I became a wilderness guide. People from the city pay me a pretty penny to show them around my own little patch of Ozark wilderness. At first I offered my services for hunting and fishing, and I did okay with that. Then I found some web-forums where people post about the monsters and “cryptids” they think exist out here in the hills, and I recognized an opportunity when I saw one. I started advertising my services to guide people searching for Bigfoot and other such bullshit. Those nuts ate it up.

Then I found another internet forum where people love reading “Rules Stories,” where there’s these strange rules folks have to follow to avoid being eaten by the boogie man or something. I put two and two together and started advertising crypto-monster tours of the Ozarks where you had to promise to follow my very specific rules before I’d take your money and hike you around my place hunting for whatever the hell it is you think lives out here. I’ve tripled my prices and I still have as much business as I can stand.

Are my clients idiots? Yes, absolutely. Or at least, I used to think that they were idiots. I figured that anyone willing to pay me $1,200 a night to hike around in the woods searching for make-believe critters had something wrong with th

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

The little smudge of crimson among Isaac’s pure white teeth was plainly evident, no matter how much I wished it wasn’t. There was no mistaking it for anything else; I had seen blood plenty of times to know what it looked like. Of course, the case could have simply been that he had bitten his lip or tongue recently, or something else mundane, but the way Isaac smiled at me, I doubted it. Honestly, I think he wanted me to see it, to know it was blood, because he wasn’t simply grinning with underlying malice anymore. His smile was one of anticipation.

I wanted to say no. Every moral that I possessed in my body screamed at me to decline the job and not be part of the atrocity that was the zoo. However, I was certain by the way he looked at me that Isaac wanted me to decline, so that he finally had a reason to kill me. He was anticipating me to deny the offer so that he could satiated the raw bloodlust I saw absolutely swimming in his eyes – like a predator hunting its prey. He wanted to tear me apart. Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – fear won over morals. I signed the contract in front of the man and handed it over to him.

A flash of perceived disappointment crossed over his face for an instant, but then he smiled again, now more like a businessman who had just closed a good deal. Gladly, he took the contract, glanced over it a moment, then carefully tucked it away into his suit’s breast pocket. Content, he spoke with dark satisfaction. “Welcome to the island, Raven Holloway. It’s a pleasure to keep you.”

In that moment, I knew I would have lost no matter which route I had picked to travel. My only solace was that I was going to be provided with basic life necessities without struggle again, but I also optimistically speculated that maybe I could make a few minor changes to the zoo for its betterment. Maybe I could actually find a way to befriend Lester and make his existence a little

I run a monthly show at a brewery in a tiny town in Montana. Usually I have locals from bigger towns, sometimes we have touring acts from out of state. I advertise it as free and we get more tip jar money and a bigger audience than when we advertise for paid tickets.

On Saturday, we had a huge response to my social media ads, and I'd passed out flyers at the local "Christmas stroll" the week before, so I was hoping for a strong turnout. It was five minutes after the listed start time, and people were in line at the bar downstairs grabbing drinks and milling around; usually they come up once we start.

I got about a minute in to my host spiel - tip your waitresses, they'll bring you drinks, the bathrooms are downstairs - and an audience member reached the top of the staircase, turned around, and took a very Looney Tunes fall. I asked if she was okay, and she said she was; I asked everyone to clap, and they did.

She headed back down the stairs, got to the landing about halfway, and collapsed, which I found out when I finished my set and went to check on her. The people down at the bar were still down at the bar because they couldn't get past her. One guy just shrugged after a few minutes of waiting and stepped over her. Half a dozen people just left.

Eventually the ambulance came and verified that she was fine and she stood up and went home. The four people who had stayed went and watched the last two comics and tipped heavily.

Earlier last year, Independence day to be exact, my (25F) nfather had a public meltdown/rampage in front of many people and some of my family. Also I do not currently live with my nfather and haven't for around 4 years now but the story does start at his house.

In addition to being a mentally and emotionally abusive narcissist, he is also a physically abusive, explosive alcoholic (the kind that binge drinks and becomes a big loud problem for everybody present). Before this he would reserve the worst of the abuse for me and his significant others behind closed doors but this night he had more than just alcohol, if you catch my drift, resulting in a psychotic break. (or should I say he was so fucked up his mask fell off and he showed everyone there his true colors ) In short: He grabbed my aunt which resulted in him full blown trying to fight my uncle and his friends, he was screaming in a death metal voice for his wife until he found her, verbally abused her in front of everybody, claimed himself to be God, claimed everyone else to be demons and imposters, threw things at people, yelling obscenities', the whole 9 yards.

In that moment all I cared about was making sure his wife, my step mom, was safe. He had physically abused his previous fiancé multiple times in front of me and I was determined not to let that happen to her. I was in full hyper- vigilance mode, always aware of his and her location and maintaining the distance in between. If he did get close I was right there and made sure that he knew I was paying very close attention. I wasn't thinking about myself or how I was feeling very much in this situation or I might have had some choice words to say to him but I was fully immersed in the role of protector. My step mom asked me if I had seen him like this before. My response was "ohhhh yeah, lots, but he's never thought he was God before". When my aunt asked me I basically said the same thing and also added a recounting of his physical abuse towards his ex. I guess she already knew about some of the abuse but had said "I knew he was bad but not THIS bad".

Anyways after the night was heading to an end, my aunt and I convinced my step mom to take her son and leave even if it is just for the night. I am a firm believer that house would have been a crime scene, yellow tape and all, if she had stayed after everyone else left the party. I also tried to convince her to use her position as his wife to make him go to rehab. She never did. so I had to.

Do your worst!

I'm surprised it hasn't decade.

For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.

I said "hey look, an escaPEA"

No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!

Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂

It really does, I swear!

Because she wanted to see the task manager.

He calls me his masterpiece. 'From Man, the Machine.' That's what the plaque says. I can't see it, but he's told me that's my 'title'. All I can see is the screen and the onlookers on the other side of the glass. Looking at both is still disorienting. I'm not used to my eyes being so far apart and don't reckon I ever will be. Also, I miss blinking. A lot.

His name is Tobias Keinseele. There are two things you need to know about him. One, he's an artist. Two, he's completely fucking insane. You'd recognize him if you saw him straight away, that mirror-surfaced glass eye is hard to miss. Chances are you won't see him though, not unless you're down on your luck.

If you have already heard of him, and are alive to read this, then fuck you. Why? Because it means you're one of the oily leeches on the other side of the glass. One of the ones gawping at me, the ones rich and wealthy enough to know about Tobias Keinseele and his gallery of anatomical defiance. I've recognized dozens of them. So many of the faces I saw in the papers and on TV have seen me too.

I doubt they think of me as a 'me' anymore though, if they ever did see us dregs, drifters, and junkies as people that is. Hell, Tobias' gallery is probably the only time folk like that acknowledge folk like me exist at all.

That's how I met him, you see. I needed money for a fix. The ad in the paper was simple enough. "Artist looking for models with unusual histories, cash-in-hand, address below". Did I question the danger of that vagueness? No. My junk-focused mind only noticed those three little words: cash-in-hand.

It took me nearly an hour walking deep into the sprawling industrial district to find the place. By this point in my addict journey, I was used to walking until my feet bled to get a fix. I was already imagining the prick of the needle and rush of euphoria when my shaking finger pressed on the buzzer of the large, derelict warehouse. Normal people, people that don't wake up in gutters, would have been suspicious of the near-abandoned industrial estate. Folk like yourselves would probably have turned around and looked for safer ways to make some scratch. I'm not… I wasn't, folk like yourselves though. At the time this ominous cube of brick-and-mortar with its boarded windows and distance from the safety of civilization was no different from any building I woke up in.

The voice that answered the intercom also would have made you flee, I bet. Not me though. I'd spent too many decades

So, I'm trying to work with family to move out of Chicago. This Aldi in Dekalb was doing a hiring event. I had management exp so I gave it a shot.

First thing that happens is Lee the store manager gives a spiel about what its like. Apparently they're one of the the fastest, highest volume stores in Illinois, and each person does the work of three people... as though purposely short staffing is a selling point? Talked about how they need 5am reliable people to manage this hectic environment.

During the interview I mentioned, I've done warehouse work. I've already moved pallets and heavy boxes... and id be doing that on top of customer checkout.... I told him customer interaction is a net negative in a job. I could go back to the warehouse and make $20/hr and not deal with customers. He agreed this was true. Then said it'd be at least 1 year before a promotion was considered.

Then the tour by a lead. During this tour we wind up in the freezer. She's going on and on about the job. The person next to me is in a professional outfit with no coat. During a pause I ask if we can exit the freezer, its getting cold.

"well youd have to be in here for over an hour, so this is part of the interview process

We head to the front, about 10 more applicants are lined up, with Lee out front of them. He walks over to our group and asks us how it went. I say honestly Lee, the freezer part was pretty unprofessional, and it sounds like you're selling being short staffed as a positive. At this time I no longer wish to continue the app process. Hand shake and walk out.

No, no one clapped, but im pretty sure they all heard me. Two of the applicants we did the tour with said they wouldnt be back for round 2 so there's that.

Good luck y'all, know your worth.

Edit: "we're a family here" was thrown out as well.

They’re on standbi

Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas!

I’m extremely excited to share this, as it has been in the works for over two years now (with many changes of course)! And yes, it is sappy but that’s the point. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :) (Oh, this chapter is purely set-up. Forgive it).

December 25th, 2005

Growing up, Christmas was the only time of the year that my parents and I could all put aside our differences and just… be a family. Every year would always follow the same set of traditions: I would come downstairs to see my father sitting on the couch in front of the tree reading some old-looking book while he waited for me to wake up. My mother would be in the kitchen finishing up Christmas cards. She would always complain about not getting them out on time, but year after year she would always send them out no sooner than Christmas Day. Once I came downstairs, we would have a huge breakfast, and my mother would give a huge spiel on how much she had spent on gifts that year and how we better appreciate it. My father and I would always give each other knowing glances during these talks, but we never spoke up. Funny enough, it was one of the times I felt most connected to him.

Then we would move to the living room and open gifts with the fire crackling and Christmas music playing. Gifts were never really focused on, so I barely remember any specifics except for the same tie my father would give me every year even though he knew I would never wear it. Afterwards, we would go to church, and Zach and I would meet up and run off to sled in the church’s parking lot. Later Zach would come over and we’d drink hot chocolate and watch whatever hallmark movie was playing that year.

December 5th, 2005 was the first Christmas after my dad left.

He’d been gone for almost half a year, and the pain from his parting hadn’t even begun to wane. I still blamed myself, my mother still blamed me, and the idea of “family” barely seemed to exist.

That morning, I made my way downstairs just like every year before. There were no presents under the tree, and the cheery music had been replaced with a painful silence. I halfway expected to see my dad sitting on that couch like nothing had ever happened. I knew it was a stupid thought, but the disappointment I felt when I saw the empty space felt just as raw as it had when he first left.

My mom was hunched over the table with her hands intertwined, and she stared at her hands with a

Pilot on me!!

Nothing, he was gladiator.

Dad jokes are supposed to be jokes you can tell a kid and they will understand it and find it funny.

This sub is mostly just NSFW puns now.

If it needs a NSFW tag it's not a dad joke. There should just be a NSFW puns subreddit for that.

Edit* I'm not replying any longer and turning off notifications but to all those that say "no one cares", there sure are a lot of you arguing about it. Maybe I'm wrong but you people don't need to be rude about it. If you really don't care, don't comment.

BamBOO!

What did 0 say to 8 ?

" Nice Belt "

So What did 3 say to 8 ?

" Hey, you two stop making out "

I won't be doing that today!

[Removed]

When I got home, they were still there.