We of the Never Never Puns

Dad: HEY!

Us: WHAT?! ...Goddammit.

He pasta way. We cannoli do so much. Theres nutelling what can happen next... His legacy will become a pizza history. Here today, gone tomato. I can only espress-so much grief, but lettuce romaine calm. How sad that he ran out of thyme. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There's just not mushroom left for italian chefs in this world... Sending olive my prayers to his family. His wife is really upset, cheese still not over it... You never sausage a tragic thing. Its such a shame good people die fusilli reasons. It was a farfalle from grace... My condolences for Roberto, who died in the spaghetto. May he rest in yeast🙏🏻❤️

Wow! Im so glad so many people laughed at this joke, I got so much happy feedback from everyone lol thank u sm for all the rewards and upvotes, my week couldnt get better!😁

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

We’ve got all wordplay for all your seasonal needs. You’ll have so much fun, you’ll never want to leaf. Do You want puns that really only work this time of year? We gautumn!

(Okay but actually those are my only two. In the spirit of fall disclosure).

A man named Dave comes home very drunk late at night...

So this guy has been drinking with his buddies all night and he's as drunk as a skunk, gets home, falls up the stairs, undresses and goes to bed next to his wife. He falls asleep and next thing he knows, bang, he dies and finds himself waiting at the pearly gates.

The guy refuses to believe this is happening, he says to St. Peter: "This can't be possible, I'm a healthy man! This is not the way I die. You have to let me return down there!"
The guy can see St. Peter looks like he's feeling sorry for him, but he tells him that unfortunately, there's no policy for allowing people back on Earth. The guy insists: "But come on, there's got to be something you can do! I'll put up with anything, really, as long as you let me go back down."
So St. Peters tells him: "Well really, there's just this one possibility: you can go back, but only as a hen. That's the only thing we can allow." The guy guesses that this really is his only chance, so he agrees reluctantly.
So he's back on Earth in this beautiful chicken coop, the sun is shining, there's green grass everywhere, this is hen paradise. The other hens greet him with delight and he tells them his story, everything goes nicely. But then he feels kind of unwell, there's something wrong with his stomach. He asks this old hen: "Tell me, I've got this weird feeling in my belly, I'm not too well. What is happening to me?"

The old hen: "Well dearie, we hens lay eggs, you know. I bet you've never laid a nice egg before... You need to push it out now, and you'll feel much better after!"
So the guy pushes and pushes, and wham, out pops his first egg. The old hen congratulates him and he feels much better. But not 5 minutes later, his pain comes back. He returns to the old hen for advice.

"Well dearie, it's quite special but it happens that you need to lay TWO eggs, so go back there and keep pushing!"
So he goes back to his nest and pushes, and nothing comes, and he pushes harder, and wham, out comes his second egg! He feels much better, but not 2 minutes later, you guessed it, he's back in terrible pain and goes to see the old hen.

"What's this bullshit here, and don't tell me I've got a third egg to lay!" The old hen can't make head or tail of it and just tells him that when in doubt, he should be pushing. So the guy goes back to work and then, wham, his wife wakes him up with this smashing slap in the face and yells: "*Dave! Dave wake up you’re

All offenses aside, I’m originally from Britain and we make fun of the Irish ALL the time.

So an Irishman stumbles upon a genie’s lamp and says to himself “ooh laddy what have we found here? I tink I’ll give it a rub to see if a genie appears!”

So he does, and lo, a puff of blue smoke comes pouring out of the spout, billows into the air and the genie’s form becomes solid. It speaks, “Oh master of the lamp, I am your genie and I grant you three wishes.”

The Irishman’s eyes are wide open with glee, his cheeks and nose red with fire, he shouts “tree wishes?! That’s just brilliant!” For me first wish, I’ll have a bottle of whiskey that never runs dry.”

The genie, eyes rolling, clicks his fingers and POOF a nice big bottle of whiskey appears before the Irishman. “Well I tink we’ll have to put this to the test!” He snatches up the bottle, takes a long healthy swig, glug glug glug, and the bottle pops as he releases it from his lips, “Ahhhhhhhh!!!” And to his amazement as soon as the liquid in the bottle settled, it gave a large burping “bulp!”, released a large bubble, and when the bubble popped the bottle was full again. “WELL I’LL BE! THAT’S THE MOST INCREDIBLE TING!”

The genie, steadfastly unimpressed, reminded the Irishman “Master, I will bring you fortune, splendor, reputation, treasures beyond any imagination. You have two wishes remaining. What would master want for a wish?”

The Irishman looks to the genie and says “oh tat’s easy! I’ll have two more of these!”

I used to be addicted to soap but ... I am clean now.

I am addicted to brake fluid but ... I can stop anytime.

If you are attacked by a group of clowns ... go for the juggler.

I just moved and IMMEDIATELY after we move in he starts banging on my door every night yelling at me ... coincidentally I just happen to be playing my drums those nights so I could easily tune him out.

I was just diagnosed with colorblindness ... It came right out of the purple.

I failed math so many times at school ... I can’t even count.

Once i threw a boomerang, it never came back, ... Now I live in CONSTANT fear

When life gives you melons ... you might be dyslexic.

Most people are shocked when they find out how bad I am as an electrician.

My wife just found out I replaced our bed with a trampoline ... She hit the ceiling!

There are 3 types of people in this world, those who can count ... and those who can't

They say three out of five people suffer from diarrhea ... so ... does that mean two out of five enjoy it?

I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather ... Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

To celebrate, we invited all the family and friends we could to my parents' house and then made the big announcement. Everyone was ecstatic and my father in particular was driven to tears. At a certain point during the night he pulled me aside and led me into his study, which I had never really been inside until this point. He opened a safe and produced cigars a bottle of whiskey and a large, beautifully bound book.

"I could never have asked for a better son," my father said, lighting the cigars and pouring the whiskey. "I hope you think I was a good enough father to deserve you."

"Of course, Dad," I said, "You were all I could've asked for and I wish my son admires me even half as much as I admire you."

"Now I've shared with you nearly everything I know," he said, "But not this one thing. This is the Big Book of Dad Jokes. There are many like it but this one is special. My father gave it to me when your mother and I first found out she was pregnant with you, and I studied it and studied it, learning all the dad jokes I could and mastering book's secrets. I hope it serves you as well as it served me in being a father... No... I know it will serve you well. I love you, my son."

"Dad... I don't know what to say... I'm honoured..."

"Hi Honoured, I'm Dad."

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

It is a well-known fact that William Tell and some members of his family were members of a bowling league. Unfortunately all the records from back then have disappeared so we'll never know for whom the Tells bowled.

Me: “Pandemic song? Beatles? Huh?”

Son: “You know... We All Live In a Yellow Quarantine...”

Me: “GAAAAAA!!!!”

I’ve never been more proud. The student has become the teacher.

Oh, and good luck getting that out of your head.

This week’s dumb joke:

My wife and I were out for a walk, and we walked through a cool patch of air right by a field.

“It’s weird how it’s always cooler right there,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said, “I guess it’s because the sun never shines here. I wonder if they get a lot of dumping in this field?”

“Huh? Why?”

A beat.

Two beats.

“Isn’t this where they stick everything?” I deadpanned.

She laughed. You don’t have to.

In my opinion we should beat the shit out of constipated people because:

1. Laxatives are an unhealthy way of dealing with feces. On the other hand, beating the shit out of someone is a good way to practice sports activities like, running, grip strength, punching techniques etc.

2. Other methods of dealing with feces take alot of money. Laxatives aren't cheap in our flawed healthcare system! On the other hand, there are people that are willing to pay you to beat the shit out of you. By using this method you can become richer and deal with your shitty problems.

3. Constipation requires being in the bathroom for a long time. This can be very lonely for the people involved. However, beating the shit out of others can be done in any place. Your home, the local park, or even the shady street corner! Not only that it's a very social activity, requiring a minimum of at least 2 people, but usually done in groups of 2-5 people.

Although some people might say, that beating the shit out of each other is violent, most of them have never been to a public toilet and hence are unable to realize how much more painful and violent the alternative is.

In summery, beating the shit out of people is a good, legitimate, and affordable alternative to laxatives and is a better, more progressive way, to deal with constipation.

I wrote a little skit for my grandkids let's see how much I remember. CHUM 8 news Ted Hammerhead reporting with sky Chompter traffic report. Top story, a lone shark, who is a loan shark is alone in the dark making loans to sharks! There is a new place to gamble, the place is full of sharks who turn out to be card sharks playing card games with sharks on the cards. Imagune the dogs playing poker for this story, but it's sharks. The other reporter asks Ted Hammerhead how he did on his recent drivers test, Ted responds "nailed it". Crime scene where a clown has been killed and the Detective states, " No way a shark did this as they taste funny". On a comment about the victim. I never did the weather or figured out names for the other reporters we used to laugh and laugh at my stupid puns.

Edit: I can't spell fixed typos

because of a certain case, which made it so that all the zoo animals had to stay in his bedroom. One of them keeps on waking him up, but he’s not sure which one. He goes to see an expert on similar situations like this. They go over which one is the most likely. The expert says:

“It’s not the fox, since those are quiet. It’s also most likely not the monkeys, because these types sleep well.”

They have a conversation like this, but the zookeeper keeps on wanting to talk about his elephant, which he loved and thought would never want to wake him up. The expert notices and plays along for a while, avoiding the subject until all other animals are no longer a suspect. The expert finally gets tired and asks the zookeeper:

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

My boy, Arthur, is slow. He is the slowest child I’ve ever met. And I don’t mean mentally, he just doesn’t move quickly at all no matter what the urgency.

He takes an hour to get out of bed and stand up in the morning. He takes an hour to eat. When we go anywhere we have to tell him 20 minutes in advance because he takes that long to get his shoes on. His showers…we had to install an industrial sized water heater and hook it up to his shower exclusively because he would drain the tank and shower in ice cold water and started getting sick from it.

The worst part is that even if you help him out he doesn’t go faster. We can feed him and he’ll just swallow slower. We can wash him and he’ll just sit there for longer.

I’ve learned to live with it and be content because I know he won’t change. But my wife can’t take it. Just the other day she told me she was going to punish him to make him go quicker:

“I’ve had it with him! I’m going to start giving him timeouts and taking away toys for going so slow!”

“Honey,” I said, “it’ll never work.”

“Why not?!”

“Because you can’t rush Art.”

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

What tree do you wipe your hands on? A palm tree!

I heard a scary math joke, but I’m 2^^2 to tell it!

Have you heard of that new movie, “Constipation”? Well it doesn’t matter, it never came out.

I hurt myself when I went to a theme park in florida. When I went to the doctor, he started wrapping up my left leg, but then I pointed at my right and said “No, doc, it’s dis knee.”

Last night I got mugged by 6 dwarves. Not Happy.

When Queen Elizabeth farts, everyone in the room must pretend like nothing happened. Noble Gasses don’t cause reactions, after all.

What’s the difference between a seal and a sea lion? One electron.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises? It becomes Daytrogen!

I called the animal shelter today and said "I've found six kittens in a suitcase in the woods." They said "Are they moving?" I replied "I don't know, but that would explain the suitcase."

Why can’t you trust Atoms? Because they make up everything!

Why do nerds wear glasses? It helps with division.

Why should you tiptoe past the medicine cabinet? You don’t wanna wake the sleeping pills.

What twitches and is found at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck!

What do you call a fat psychic? A four chin teller!

What do you call a 3 foot tall psychic on the run from the law? A small medium at large!

Help, I can’t stop reading books with female protagonists! I’m a heroine addict!

How did Sparticus react when he ate his wife for dinner? He was gladiator!

When does a joke become a dad joke? When the punchline becomes apparent!

19 and 20 got into a fight… 21.

My friend told me, “People who sell meat are disgusting!” So I said, “Yeah, well people who sell fruits and vegetables are grocer!”

How can turtles take photos of themselves? Shell-fie sticks!

What do you call a secret agent molecule? Bond… ionic bond. “Taken, not shared.” What did the dinosaur say to the other dinosaur? (Cut this part, but make a screeching noise)

How much does Santa’s sleigh cost? $0, it’s on the house.

If America switched from pounds to kilograms overnight there would be mass confusion.

I had a splinter once; it eventually got out of hand.

I’m going to go stand outside. If anyone asks, I’m outstanding.

Most people are shocked to find out how terrible an electrician I am!

What do mermaids wash their fins with? Tide What’s the coolest place to use the bathroom? The Lil Jon

Did you know that on average, people want three covers on their bed at all times? But that’s just a blanket statem

*When it's Pi Day and the ides of March are tomorrow*

Brutus: We've got a man to cons-pi-re against

Cassius: I can't wait for tomorrow. It's such a never-ending day.

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.

How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.

I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.

I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.

My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.

Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.

How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.

What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.

Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.

There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.

What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.

What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.

Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.

Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.

How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.

The shovel was a ground breaking invention.

A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."

A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."

Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.

What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.

I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.

What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.

I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.

Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.

Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"

Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.

What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.

Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.

What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.

What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.

A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.

After the accident, the juggler didn

Persons volunteer to tell jokes and whoever laughs has to pay $5. Since my friends and I were all lovers of quality humor, we accepted this challenge.

The guy proceeds to tell his joke and I've never laughed so hard in my life, my friends had tears in their eyes as well, from this clever witty joke.

We all proceed to grab our cash and pay him to which he replied:

"Don't worry about it guys, the joke's on me"

I gave him my wallet.

My wife is trying to soothe the little fella, not sure what’s wrong.

There’s a short checklist we go through, feed, hot/cold or pooping. He has a bit of trouble when he’s trying to poop.

“What’s hurting? What do you want? Is it mouth or butt that you want?”

Me from the kitchen:

“How come I never get this question?”

Okay, so this is my first post, so be gentle there. It s more a funny thing my dad did to mess with us than a dad joke. Our parents explained it to us , so i don t have the dialogues here. When we were little, my brother and I of course asked my parents how do we make babies, because we wanted a little bro or sis and they did not wanted us to get one. So we asked them how babies are made. They explained to us that you need 3 things ; a mother's belly , dad's seeds and a little bit of love. That was cute, they said that daddy had to put his seeds in mummy 's belly with the love. When we asked how, they told us to guess -this is why we thought babies were made by the bellybutton, they did really had fun with us- and then, finally, we asked them why they would not make us a little brother then. My father, had this brilliant idea to mess with us, which we sometimes did not notice, as we were little. He basically told us with a huge smile accros his face :" You know what ? If you find the good seeds, we'll make you one". My mother laughed but we took it seriously. We have apparently searched for hours even going in the basement, searching in mom's gardening seeds, ripping of the labels and bringing them to the parents to ask if these were the good ones . We eventually got fed up, and never asked my parents to have a sibling again.

which was my 40th birthday. The BIG Four Oh! As in "Oh, you're 40 and not married? What's wrong with you?"

And my friends, as awesome as they are, kept setting me up on blind dates, but I never seemed to click with any of the women. Pretty women, short women, tall women, rough women, successful women, lazy women - I dated them all and more often than not, they just weren't interested in me.

I think I probably went on twenty or so dates that never resulted in a a single follow up date.

But two months before my birthday, I started dating two women and both fledgling relationships seemed like they were going somewhere as they were getting really, really serious. I couldn't choose one, but I didn't care. I just couldn't believe they were into me. Okay, maybe they weren't the best looking, but I was so desperate for a wife, and I'm definitely no prize myself.

With a few weeks to go before my birthday, I knew I had to act if I had any hope of being married. I bought two rings and proposed to them both (on separate nights, of course) and they both said no. In fact, though they never knew of each other, I went from two good things to both of them not returning my calls. I guess proposing in a mall food court (for Jenny) or down on my knees in front of the bathroom at a minor league baseball game (Susan) were not my best laid plans, doomed to fail. Or maybe I just reeked of desperation.

So the morning of my birthday, I was practically in tears, deep in depression as I knew I missed my deadline. But my friends came though, kind of. They took me out bar hopping and then we all went back to my place where they had a stripper waiting in my favorite chair. She got up, sat me down, and gave me a grinding lap dance. She said nothing, but after a minute, stopped, turned around, looked me in the eye and said "one." Then she started up again, stopped after a minute, turned around and said "two..."

This went on all night until she got to "forty."

It's been a few months now, and I'm not too sad. My friends really tried to get me married, and after two near mrs, I guess it was the thot that counts.

We’d never hear the end of it.

We had a friend in town this weekend whose flight was this afternoon, so she was staying at the house for a while after my wife and I left for work. About halfway through my commute I was overtaken by a terrible sense of dread and panic that I forgotten to flush the toilet and our friend was going to come face to face with a semi-fresh dookie when she went to the restroom.

I was so mortified at this that I preemptively texted her to warn her and requested that she please, for both our sake's, flush the toilet prior to lifting the lid. We may never know whether I needed to send that text-- it was a real Schrodinger Scat situation.

This is sort of a TIFU, but I have no idea if I actually did and I'm not sure she would have the heart to tell me anyway.

...and finds himself in hell. Walking around, he runs into the devil.

Devil: Why are you so sad?

Guy: Why do you think? I'm in hell.

Devil: Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinkin' man?

Guy: Sure, I love to drink.

Devil: Well you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, Guinness, wine coolers, Diet Coke. We drink until we throw up and then we drink some more.

Guy: Gee, that sounds great.

Devil: You a smoker?

Guy: You better believe it.

Devil: All right! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from around the world and smoke our friggin' lungs out. If you get cancer, it's okay -- you're already dead.

Guy: Golly!

Devil: I bet you like to gamble, too.

Guy: Yes, as a matter of fact I do.

Devil: Good, because Wednesday is gambling day. Craps, blackjack, horse races, you name it. You like to do drugs?

Guy: Yes, I love to do drugs. You don't mean...?

Devil: That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack. Smoke a doobie the size of the Titanic. You can do all the drugs you want, and you'll never die -- you're already dead.

Guy: Neat! I never realized hell was such a happenin' place!

Devil: You gay?

Guy: No.

Devil: Oh, you're gonna hate Fridays

(From Abbott and Costello’s radio show, December 30, 1943)
Lou Costello: Oh, Abbott, the worst thing just happened to me!
Bud Abbott: No!
Lou Costello: Yeah, Mrs. Niles gave me a dog for a Christmas present, and the dog just took a great big bite out of me!
Bud Abbott: Where did he bite you?
Lou Costello: Well, if I’d have been wearing a license plate, he’d have gotten the last three numbers.
Bud Abbott: Where did this happen?
Lou Costello: Well, let me see, where did this happen — in a crowded streetcar. It was the first time I ever gave my seat to a dog.
Bud Abbott: Well, never mind that. What kind of a dog did Mrs. Niles give you?
Lou Costello: Do you remember that famous dog, Strongheart?
Bud Abbott: Yes, I remember Strongheart.
Lou Costello: Well, this is his brother — Weak Stomach.
Bud Abbott: Listen, I’m not talking about that. What is the dog’s breed?
Lou Costello: What does he breed? He breeds through his nose, like you and me!
Bud Abbott: No, no, no, you dummy, what kind of dog is he? Spitz?
Lou Costello: No, but he drools a little.
Bud Abbott: Look, there are different types of dogs, such as Setters, and Pointers, …
Lou Costello: That’s it, Abbott! He’s a Setter-Pointer!
Bud Abbott: A Setter-Pointer?
Lou Costello: Yeah, he sets all day and points at the icebox! (Editor’s note: we now call an “icebox” a “refrigerator”)

Dad, did you get a haircut? No I got them all cut.

What do you call a Mexican who has lost his car? Carlos.

Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don’t think they’ll fit me.

Can I watch the TV? Dad: Yes, but don’t turn it on.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

You know, people say they pick their nose, but I feel like I was just born with mine.

“Every time I hurt myself, even to this day, my dad says, ‘The good news is..it’ll feel better when it quits hurting.'”

What’s brown and sticky? A stick.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? Great food, no atmosphere.

“I’ll call you later!”- “Please don’t do that. I’ve always asked you to call me Dad!”

Q: Why did the cookie cry? A: Because his father was a wafer so long!

What did the mountain climber name his son? Cliff.

This graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in there.

“My dad literally told me this one last week: ‘Did you hear about the guy who invented Lifesavers? They say he made a mint.’”

“Whenever the cashier at the grocery store asks my dad if he would like the milk in a bag he replies, ‘No, just leave it in the carton!’”

I got so angry the other day when I couldn’t find my stress ball.

If I had a dime for every book I’ve ever read, I’d say: “Wow, that’s coincidental.”

I’m not indecisive. Unless you want me to be.

How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.

How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.

“Me: ‘Dad, make me a sandwich!’ Dad: ‘Poof, You’re a sandwich!’”

“I heard there was a new store called Moderation. They have everything there

A steak pun is a rare medium well done.

“How can you tell if a ant is a boy or a girl? They’re all girls, otherwise they’d be uncles.”

Milk is also the fastest liquid on earth – its pasteurized before you even see it

“What’s Forrest Gump’s password? 1forrest1”

The only thing worse than having diarrhea is having to spell it.

I asked my friend to help me with a math problem. He said: “Don’t worry; this is a piece of cake.” I said: “No, it’s a math problem.”

I keep trying to lose weight, but it keeps finding me.

I don’t play soccer because I enjoy the sport. I’m just doing it for kicks.

Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head.

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?

If your onion sang hip-hop, would that be a rapscallion?

I used to be an astronaut, but I got tired of eating out of satellite dishes. I wasn't allowed to eat the Milky Way, even though I had to look at it every day. The worst thing was, I never got to visit The Space Bar. Then, when I was visiting the dark side of the moon, I was bitten by a parasite. Now, you might think it's crazy, but the doctor who removed it called it a lunar-tick.

If "womb" is pronounced "woom" and "tomb" is pronounced "toom", shouldn't "bomb" be pronounced "boom"?

China recently tested a new steroid. It basically turns you into The Hulk. The side effect is it could turn you into a crazed zombie that tends to rip the upper extremities from people. People are saying that this could be the zombie apocalypse. In my opinion, lips have nothing to do with it. I call it ARMageddon. The only way to stay safe now is to not let anyone close enough to disarm you.

I recently was going to join the railroad union. I decided against it because it's complicated. If I received instruction on driving the locomotive, would they call it engineering, or training?

I got a sad story about a flower. I don't know who the heck she pissed off, but damn, now she's a Black-Eyed Susan.

I finally figured out what makes leaves angry. Fall. They get so mad they change color. Some are yellow. They're just afraid and run from their problems. The other ones usually just leave.

I went parachuting with my military buddies once. We landed on a department store. I told him I think we're at the wrong coordinates. He said: "Nope. We're right on Target"

I asked a psychologist if Native Americans have strong emotions. He said "Oh yeah, they're intense".

If a psychotic person thought something made sense, would that thought be psychological?

If Matt Damon were searching for a secondhand store, would he be Goodwill Hunting?

My friend is a Marksman for the military. One day, he went to the armory and asked for 3 snipers. They gave him a candy bar. It was a 3 Musketeers.

I want to be there if Dwayne Johnson ever uses a pizza stone. That way I can smell what "The Rock" is cookin'.

Christopher bought a lemon, and the car broke down. Now Christopher Walken.

Have you heard about the latest bank battle on Wall Street? Capital One and Chase got in a fight and Capital One.

You know what a pirate says to his wenches when he sees the shoreline? "LAND HO!"

A man finds a lamp in the desert and dusts it off. Poof! A genie p

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’

> -- Which one, Sir?

> -- The kind of brownish reddish one?

> -- Uh, we've never had any reddish browns on sale.

> -- Oh. Then I guess it must have been a... pigment of my imagination.

A man is on his first visit to Boston, and he wants to try some of that delicious New England seafood that he'd long heard about. So he gets into a cab, and asks the driver, "Can you take me to where I can get scrod?" The driver replies, "I've heard that question a thousand times but never in the pluperfect subjunctive."

An Irishman goes to a building site for his first day of work, and a couple of Englishmen think, "Ah, we'll have some fun with him!" So they walk up and say, "Hey, Paddy, as you're new here make sure you know a joist from a girder..." "Ah, sure, I knows" says Paddy, "twas Joyce wrote Ulysses and Goethe wrote Faust."

My wife plays violin and her first rehearsal with a new orchestra is near. She had access to an electronic copy of the music, but wondered whether the orchestra would distribute paper copies at the rehearsal. For orchestras, the section leaders decide when everyone's bows will be moving up vs. down and annotate the music accordingly. Copies of the annotated music are distributed to the players. As a trumpet player who's never needed that kind of annotation, I've always been able to use the originals.

Wife: "String players never play from the originals because we have bowings."

Me: "And wind players have Airbuses!"

Wife: "That joke was just plane awful."

A man who was driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night. He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound.The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave.Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk."The man sa,ys, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk."The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks."In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound."The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door."The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door."The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns th

I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that's okay, because she'd just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like "your dog can ride in my pickup any time," and she responded.

We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog's name was Daisy. My truck's name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.

And at this, she stumbled. "If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper." But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.

But time went on, and we gradually became closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.

But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: "I never thought I'd say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don't want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I'm telling you, I can never date a beekeeper."

I couldn't imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn't imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.

Then I saw her face. Now I'm a bee leaver.

My wife and I are signing our loan docs today with the title company.

Wife: "I don't get why you sign your name so fast but write the date so slow."

Me: "I guess ever since we got married I don't date as often as I used to."

Title Lady: "Booooooo."

She later acknowledged that she hadn't heard that one in 21 years of doing her job. I've never been so proud and ashamed at the same time.

I'll never forget that first day of school when the teacher asked if we knew any other language's

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.

She had been at her mom's for a week and we were switching over to my place.

I told her "You'll be happy to know I didn't think of a single dad joke last week..."

"Good!"

"...I thought of a whole bunch of them!"

/groan "Dad...."

"Yeah, that wasn't a very good one, I know."

Then I thought about it for a minute, and we were walking up to the house and I said "I still kind of like it though...I mean, it's a dad joke about dad jokes. So it's a meta dad joke." Looked at her, lowered my sunglasses..."And I've never met a dad joke I didn't like"

"Daaaaddddd...."

...we'd never hear the end of it.

Did you hear about the Italian chef who died? Pun-laden remembrances after the death of the Italian chef.

Did you hear about the Italian chef who died?

• He pasta way.
• We cannoli do so much.
• His legacy will become a pizza history.
• Just proves the old adage, “Here today, gone tomato.”
• How sad that he ran out of thyme.
• Olive my prayers go to the family.
• His wife is very upset; cheese still not over it.
• You never sausage a tragic thing!

https://bestcleanfunnyjokes.com/did-you-hear-about-the-italian-chef-who-died/

We’ll never hear the end of it