A Little Respect Puns

The Pillsbury Doughboy, remembered best as "Pop N Serve", and/or "Pop N Fresh", died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy will be buried in this lightly greased coffin.

Dozens of celebrities will turn out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.

The grave site is expected to be piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima will deliver the eulogy and lovingly describe Doughboy as "a man who never knew how much he was kneaded".

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers.. He was considered a very smart cookie, but wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes.

Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop tart.

The funeral will be held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

Not many people are aware of its existence but I assure that it is there all the same. The king of this little land faces a lot of difficulty. He wants to make his kingdom into a sovereign nation but unfortunately they do not have the infrastructure, population, or economy to do so. In fact, this small state is only known for a single export. Thanks to their proximity to some of the finest gold and other metals in the world but total lack of an ability to process those metals on a mass scale, they have been left with only one option. You know the saying; when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Make lemonade they did. This tiny territory is renowned for creating the highest quality watches in the world. No expense is spared and their elite group of craftsmen train for their entire lives from childhood to produce these terrific timepieces. Men of great wealth and taste have been known to trade entire fortunes for just a single one of these watches; that is how valuable they are.

The king knows this and he knows that only a small portion of his populace can ever hope to become one of the respected elite, let alone hold one of their masterpieces in their own hands. Being a very just and fair man, the king ordered the most senior watchmaker in the land to create something the likes of which had never been seen. A watch of such great craftsmanship so as to be above monetary value. The man labored long and hard for many nights to produce the king's watch. When he at last presented the completed work to his lord - in front of the entire nation, no less - he was met with thunderous applause and a warm embrace. He had done it! The king then made a shocking announcement.

"This masterpiece belongs to my people!"

When the roaring of the crowd died down he continued.

"This watch shall be a symbol of my love for all of you. Though I rule over you with supreme authority I do not wish a single one of you to feel that you do not have a voice in the ruling of this nation. From this day on let anyone who doubts my decisions or questions my judgment wear this watch and stand as my equal to voice their concerns. Should even a single one of you think me unfair or wrong in any matter then simply come to my castle and I will present you this token of good faith."

The king made good on his word and from that day on all citizens knew they held the right to challenge their king's rulings. Over time the watch became a symbol of fairness throughout the land. Anyone who wore it

On his walk home he sees a dog in he middle of the road. He wonders what it’s doing laying there when all of a sudden a car comes by and hits the dog. It flies through the air and after a minute, gets up and runs into the woods. Johnny can’t believe what he just saw and rushes home to tell his mom. He goes inside breathing hard form running and says “You’re not going to believe what I just saw”

“What happened Johnny” says his mom

“This car just hit this dog right in the ass and it flew through the air. He barely got up and limped into the woods”

The mom then says “now little Johnny cmon lets be a little more respectfully let’s not use those words. Let’s say rectum instead”

Johnny then replies

“Wrecked him!? That car damn near killed him!”

...with a fellow Dad last weekend when we walked past what looked very much like a strip club. He was a little surprised to find such an establishment in the rather staid seaside resort we were staying in, so I explained that we were in a country with a long and respectable tradition of Pole dancing.

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

My parents visited me last weekend. Short on ideas, we decided to hit up a widely-respected art museum. They had some new exhibitions, some of which were a little outside our personal tastes and expectations.

We walked into a photography exhibit and saw, along one wall, a sheet of green. This sheet of green was a little higher and taller than the average door, and stretched all the way down that bit of wall plus a few feet onto the floor.

"Oh," I said, "a green screen. That's kind of a neat little thing to have here. Sort of an homage to that style of film, I guess?"

Little did I know. In hindsight, I don't know why I expected anything different.

My father and I approached the plaque beside it. There we learned the truth: This was not a green screen. No. No, this was a specially printed photograph.

A photograph... of a green screen.

There we stood, astonished at the audacity of the thing before us. "My God," I said aloud, "This, right here, this is something else. This is just plain genius. Can you imagine getting money for something like this? Why didn't we come up with this? This is gold!"

To which my dad simply responded, "No, son...

... it's green."

A while ago I was sat down to dinner with my family, a delicious meal as it always is, ta very much Mum. Throughout dinner and the usual post-dinner chatter Dad had been muttering "My my myyyy Delilah..." to himself. Usually you can ignore a bit of a quiet singsong someone outside of a conversation is having to themselves but every 10-15 minutes he'd go "My my myyyy Delilah...". A good 2 hours after starting our dinner my sister feels the need to ask "Dad, why do you keep singing my my my delilah? Was there a song on the radio or something?". Dad gives a confused little look and goes "Hmmm? What? Oh dear oh dear oh dear... It's actually a medical problem. I went to the doctor about it recently" then raises his head trying to conceal that grin that we all know and dread. "He said I had Tom Jones Syndrome. I asked if it was common. He just shrugged and said it's not unusual". I gave him two thumbs up and a look of respect, most of the table gave a horrified groan. 2 Hours! the dedication on that man!

I was in my young punk phase, couldn't have been more than 13, and I was at a friend's house for a pool day. Being the little shit that I was, I started a fight with my buddy just to start one. The fight escalated to the point where we were throwing oranges at each other from the yard. The fruit trees were very special to my friend's Dad, and I knew this. The fight got out of hand and the oranges were everywhere. This was bad. I ended up running away.

Of course I got in trouble and the next day I had to return to clean up. I was terrified. I mean, my friend's Dad was always a nice guy, but I'd never seen him this pissed... We destroyed his prized trees! I had no idea what I was walking into. I went up to the door, rang the bell and braced myself for the worst. My friend's Dad opened the door with a smirk on his face and said: "Orange you glad to be here?"

Somehow I knew the joke gave him greater satisfaction than having his oranges back. From that day forward I respected the shit out of that backyard.