Wide Eyed Puns

I said, "No, it's pretty light. "

they must be vigilant, something fishy around there...

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

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!”

A woman and her 12-year-old son were riding in a taxi in Detroit. It was raining and all the prostitutes were standing under awnings.

"Mom," said the boy, "what are all those women doing?"

"They're waiting for their husbands to get off work," she replied.

The taxi driver turns around and says, "Geez lady, why don't you tell him the truth? They're hookers, boy! They have sex with men for money."

The little boy's eyes get wide and he says, "Is that true Mom?"

His mother, glaring hard at the driver, answers, "Yes."

After a few minutes the kid asks, "Mom, if those women have babies, what happens to them?"

She said, "Most of them become taxi drivers."

He yells "UNO!"

The crowd falls silent in anticipation.

"DOS!"

Everyone's eyes are wide, laser focused on the preformer.

Then, the magician vanishes... without a tres.

Two rednecks were looking at a Sears catalog and admiring the models.

One says to the other, 'Have you seen the beautiful girls in this catalog?'

The second one replies, 'Yes, they are very beautiful. And look at the price!'

The first one says, with wide eyes, 'Wow, they aren't very expensive. At this price, I'm buying one.'

The second one smiles and pats him on the back. 'Good idea! Order one and if she's as beautiful as she is in the catalog, I will get one too.'

Three weeks later, the youngest redneck asks his friend, 'Did you ever receive the girl you ordered from the Sears catalog?'

The second redneck replies, 'No, but it shouldn't be long now. I got her clothes yesterday!'

On Christmas my aunt gave my son a small box of Swedish fish which he immediately devoured. At the moment he threw the empty box on the coffee table I looked at it with wide eyes and said, "Oh look! Now they're Finnish!" He didn't get it.

Eyes wide, he whispered, "Skeletons!"

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

Posted this on r/Talesfromretail and it was suggested I post here.

I used to work in store where we would ask customers if they had an account number at the check out. The number would be put in manually before putting the shopping through and the customer would get back one penny on every pound they spent.

One day a family who I hadn't seen before came in and while the mum and kids wandered off to start shopping. The dad came over to the side of my till while I was serving customers, announced his account number and then ran off to join his family without saying anything else. OK, that was weird, I went on serving.

About 10 minutes later the family are queued for my till. When it comes to the point where I should ask for their number the dad grins at me and I realise what's going on. Fortunately, I have a bizarrely good memory for numbers and, without skipping a beat, I reel off the one he gave me when he came in the store. The kids both gasp and their eyes go wide. They look at their dad in awe.

As I'm putting through the shopping, I hear the dad say:

>See? I told you they were psychic.

Mr. Sterling Frogsen was desperate. After a few months of success, his bakery was beginning to flounder and running in the red. He was a proud man who was proud of starting his small business without asking for any help. But now times were tough and he had to face the fact that without a loan his bakery was doomed.

So he went to local bank but was disheartened to see that the loan officer was the notorious Patricia Wacomb, the hard-nosed banker who only agreed to sure bets and rarely took risks.

"Please, ma'am, I am in sore need of this loan! My bakery is only going through a temporary setback!" Normally such pleas fell on deaf ears, but today Patricia was feeling generous. Something about Mr. Frogsen moved her and she believed his plight.

"Mr. Frogsen, I would approve this loan, but this bank cannot afford to take any risks."

"Is there anything you can do, Ms. Wacomb? I am desperate!"

"Well, do you have any collateral?"

"Only this family heirloom," Sterling responded while handing Patricia his prized family treasure. Patricia was at a loss, however, for she had never seen anything like that before.

"Let me ask my manager," she responded as she showed her director the prized heirloom. His eyes opened wide in amazement as he told her,

"It's a knick-knack, Patty Wack, now give the Frog a loan!"

Wife was opening a roll of pizza dough and it popped open. She jumped and screeched then looked at me wide-eyed saying "That doesn't normally happen."

My reply:

"Dat reaction dough."

I think she hates me now.

As toddlers/youngins whenever we'd fall down and start to cry, my dad would be like "OHMYGOSH HOLYCRAP oh NOOO!! The floor!!!? Did you hurt the floor???" And we'd be shocked into forgetting we'd just fallen (and gotten scared-hurt)

It was hilarious seeing younger siblings do this- to go from traumatized and in desperate pain to stunned in about half a second... guppy faces and wide eyes like- 'oh no! I'm not the victim here at all, am I?' Maybe you'd have to see it to understand. Surprisingly, it really did make everything stop hurting.

GF: "... and on Friday it's wide open from around 2 or 2:30 on."

The old man gets a glimmer in his eye.

GF's Dad: "I only go to the dentist when tooth hurty"

His hand goes up.

We high five.

We meet up to work on our lab and when I got there I realized I hadn't eaten in almost 9 hours.

Me: hey have you eaten yet? Him: wide eyes and creepy voice what do you mean? I've been eating my whole life. Me: really.... Really?

When talking about some upper digestive tract issues I have had he told me that he may want me to get a Esophagogastroduodenoscopy. My eyes went wide and I whistled before saying "That sure is a mouthful".

He sort of snorted and said "You could say that" and it took me a moment before I realized what I had said.

I'll never forget when I was riding shotgun while my dad drove, and we were taking my friend Joe home. We had driven these streets hundreds of times, but at this moment, my dad released all these heretofore unheard-of puns.

We took a right on Cambridge Ave.

Dad looks over and stoically says in a gravelly voice with an -- American Indian?? -- accent, "First came iron horse… then came bridge."

Groans.

As we approach Minot Ln., he asks "do I turn here?" and Joe says "yes," to which dad replies "I don't know, Joe, I might, but I minot!"

Groans.

Finally, we make our last turn onto Cheyenne. Dad says with a deliberate, measured cadence, "You know, growing up, all the girls I met were so forward. It was weird. But then I met Shy Anne."

He finished his sentence right as we pulled into Joe's driveway. He put his right hand on the back of my headrest and turned to face us with a wide smile and the glittering, eyes of a puppy that just fetched on command.

Joe said "Thanks, Mr. Smith," and he got out and ran into his house.

...to find his house with the lights dimmed down and candles surrounding the bed in the bedroom. He finds his wife there, laying abroad with sexy panties and a pink bra, and her bangs covering her left eye. She smiles. "Tonight," she says. "Is going to be the sexiest and most passionate night of your life, sweetie." The husband smiles as his wife gets up and unties his tie for him, and unbuckles his pants. He can't wait. "Lets try role playing." she says. "I'll be your slutty little daughter, and you'll be my father who needs to teach me... discipline..." He grins widely, liking where this is going. His wife grabs him and pulls him down to the bed. She whispers in his ear. "I'm so horny..." The husband enjoys this and decides to follow along with the role playing. He then whispers back in her ear. "Hi, horny. I'm dad."

Okay so where I stay it is unbelievably hot at the moment. We're already on the third heatwave of this summer so far. I came home one afternoon from work to find my roommate sitting at the island counter of the kitchen working on his laptop. He had all the windows and doors wide open and said it was way too hot to work in his room. So later, while I was visiting my parents for dinner, the discussion of the weather came up and I recounted the story with my roomate. My dad got that twinkle in his eyes and said: “Well, I guess if you can’t stand the heat, get into the kitchen.”

Out for a hike in an urban provincial park in Calgary with my wife, my cousin, and my cousin's husband. We slow down to look at a deer about 5m off the trail. A middle age couple is walking towards us, when:

Woman: Look honey, a deer!
Her husband: Oh dear!

His wife, my wife, and my cousin all groan/eye roll... and me and my cousin's husband have a hearty chuckle, while the man sports a wide grin.

Based on his immediate delivery, and his wife's reaction, I just know this joke's been repeated often, to everyone's delight, as any good dad joke should be.

Slow start:

So I was combining two hand sanitizer bottles while waiting on some computer function to complete, one was a scented and dyed blue while the other was regular clear handbleach. In the end I have a bottle of half clear half blue.

So I make wide panic eyes, hold up the bottle for my coworker to see and tell him "Oh shit, %coworker℅ I really blew it this time"

3/4 techs approve this dadjoke

Dad: Did you know that baseball is in the Bible? Me: You're lying. Dad: I shit you not. It's in Genesis. Here. (Pulls out a bible and opens to Genesis.) Genesis 1:1, "In the big inning." (Looks at me with his eyes opened wide and busts out laughing.)

I facepalmed, then laughed.