We All Sleep Alone Puns

Papa balloon, Muma balloon and Bubba balloon.

Bubba balloon was still sleeping with Papa and Muma balloon but he was starting to get too big.

Papa and Muma balloon got a bedroom setup for Bubba balloon so they can finally sleep alone. But every night he would come in crying to sleep with Papa and Muma balloon but they never let up.

But one night, Bubba balloon waited for the Papa and Muma balloon to be faaaast asleep. He tried to squeeze in between them but he couldn't quite fit. Very carefully, he started to let some air out of Papa balloon... It wasn't enough. Very carefully, he let some air out of Muma balloon... But it still wasn't enough. He didn't want to deflate his parents any more... So he slowly let some air out of himself. It was perfect. He snuggled in and slept soundly.

The next morning, you could imagine how disappointed Papa and Muma balloon was. Papa balloon said: We tried to help you and tried to help you grow in toy a Big Boy balloon. We are so disappointed with you.

You let ME down... You let your Muma down... But most disappointing of all... You let yourself down!

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

Here's a joke my dad told me. Sorry if you've heard it, but I found it hilarious, and I think you might enjoy it.

In a small town in the suburbs, there was a small family of balloons. There was a mummy balloon, a daddy balloon, and a small child balloon. Every night the boy would sleep between his parents, but his father had had enough.

"son, I know you love sleeping between us, but you're getting a bit too old for it., " the father said. "You're nearly 8, you're a big boy, and your mother and I think you should sleep in your own bed from now on. You can stay tonight but starting tomorrow we want you in your own bed. Do you understand?"

"Yeah dad, I understand..." the boy said with a maudlin tinge to his voice.

"okay son, I love you."

"love you too dad"

The next night the boy tried sleeping in his own bed, but there was a storm outside. It was a dark, ominous storm - the kind of storm that sounds like a cataclysm for the end of the world.

The boy was scared, so he went to sleep in his parents room. However when he tried to squeeze between them, he found he didn't fit. He felt defeated. He felt scared. He felt alone.

But then an idea struck him. He decided he'd just let a little bit of air out of his father. He tried to squeeze in again, but had no such luck. So he let a little bit of air out of his mother. He tried again. Still no luck. Finally, he decided to let some air out of himself. Success! He squeezed in tightly and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning his parents were furious. His father was feeling particularly angry, and screamed at his son.

"son, I told you not to sleep in our room. I told you to sleep in your own bed! Didn't I say that Hun?"

"yes dear," the mother said, feeling slightly deflated.

"so son, what do you have to say for yourself?" the father asked in anger.

"it was dark and stormy and..." the boy tried to spit out.

"I don't care son!" the father interrupted. "you can't keep doing this! I'm very disappointed. You've let me down, you've let me down, but worst of all..."

Play on words: Sexually frustrated sea mammals

     I'm Russ Whale. My wife Bayleen a few months ago gave birth to our first calf, Humphrey. I convinced my mother-in-law to whale watch tonight. It's been far too long. I drop off Humphrey and head home to hook up with the wife. 

I arrive and who do I sealion there? The wife. I'm undeterred. I try my patented move, the Humpback. I get a slight groan.

Bayleen: Rus, Are you poking me in the back again?

Rus: It's on porpoise. We're alone for the first time in forever.

Bayleen: I'm so tired, I haven't got any sleep with Humphrey making me into a nurse shark. Plus you smell like ambergris.

Rus: Hamburgers?

Bayleen: Yes, hamburgers. Please go take a shower or something.

Rus: Ok.

Rus takes a quick shower and returns. Bayleen is asleep again. Rus tries the humpback maneuver again. Nothing.

Rus: Sometimes... I wish I was a sperm whale.

Rus is slightly blubbering and and all you can make outs is odd noises and maybe the word 'blowhole'. Rus cries himself to sleep.

Fin.