Although Puns

...GeneralLee they weren’t fast enough

...It’s definitely up there.

I told him, “It’s all in your head.”

Happy Father’s Day fellow dads!

it is always very seedy.

They must be light bulbs!

In a snap

I need to take an Anker Management class.

He refused, saying "Son, that place is too krauted."

• Like all cherished things in this covid-crazy world, the O.Henry Museum’s famous free, family friendly celebration of the wit-in-word will take place virtually in cyberspace this year. With an awesome live cast of lively wits and tortured tongues, the online audience will be treated to all the linguistic twists, dramatic turns, and surprise endings they’ve groan to love. Expect to witness wacky word butchers and voracious verbivores from around the globe, all worming their way into your ears. Tongues of tradition, tension and camaraderie make this the premier event for the world's competitive wordplay community
• Brought to you this year by the City of Austin, Brush Square Museums Foundation, and co- sponsored by Austin's very own Fantastic Magic Camp, as well as the internationally renowned podcast, Pun Intensive, The O. Henry Museum Pun-Off World Championships Punslingers Competition: Online Edition will commence Saturday, November 21, 2020
• Preliminary live rounds begin Saturday, November 21, 2020, at 11:00am CST, lasting about 2 hours. Later that evening, live competition resumes at 7:00pm CST with head-to-head prime time heats. - See Pun-Off.com for schedule details, links, and more.

[Austin, TX, November 1, 2020] - Although traditionally held outdoors on a single day in the spring, the first portion 2020 the O. Henry Museum Pun-Off competition known as Punniest of Show was conducted via video in October. Now on Saturday, November 21, 2020, PARD will bring you their most popular second segment, O. Henry Museum Pun-Off World Championships Punslingers Competition: Online Edition

This free, fun, and family friendly event will take place online this year, but with special twists, turns, and surprise modifications to make it the perfect 2020 event for the world's competitive wordplay community.

The O. Henry Museum Pun-Off World Championships have been an Austin institution for 43 years. As usual, the contest will feature a cavalcade of word-class wordsmiths from across the globe, all worming their way into your art. Join and enjoy us as they compete to spontaneously spit out the most absurd words you’ve ever heard.

The event will be live streamed at PunIntensive.com.

Kept on insisting that I had promised to build him a treehouse but I don't remember evergreening this elm of a contract. Though he kept inisisting I had birch the agreement due to the long delay but my attempt to confern the fertility of the spruce was in roots. Now I have to oak up and face the spruce. My weekend has been soiled and I now have to maple my son's treehouse whilst I willow my day away. Although... Now that I twig about it, having a treehouse in my yard sounds like a pine idea.

Although what the daft boy wants with an ex box, I'll never know.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

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

Although I think I would nail Polish.

It’s fantastic! Although sadly it’s just a bunch of ruff cuts.

Although it looked good on paper

A little boy named Tom was approaching his 3rd birthday, and absolutely adored the show "Tractor Tom", partially because of his name being spoken, and partially because he loved tractors.

As the day drew nearer, his parents decided to buy him a toy tractor as a gift. The rest of his toys were gone with the wind at this point, as Tom spent all his waking hours playing with this one tractor toy.

Fast forward a few years, and Tom's now approaching his 10th birthday, with his love for tractors intact and intensified. His parents discuss what to get for him, and decide that a ride-on tractor to replace his bike is the best gift they can give him.

Tom absolutely loves the gift, and spends all of his time out of school riding around the neighbourhood while his bike collects dust in the garage.

We come forward a few more years, as Tom approaches his 18th birthday, with an only intensified adoration of tractors. His father pulls him aside on the morning of his birthday, saying "Now son, I know that we've promised you a car, but we know what you really want."

He leads him outside, to a brand new tractor with a bow on it, saying that this is his welcome to adulthood.

Tom is beyond excited, and spends the next few months going everywhere in his tractor - grocery trips, bars, classes, friends' houses.....

Again, a few years later, Tom is driving down a back country road, in the middle of nowhere, with his tractor, in the middle of a storm. The tractor breaks down, and with no air conditioning or any form of modern comforts, Tom is in a miserable mood until someone finally comes past for him to flag down for help. After this, Tom realises that although tractors are fun, maybe they're not the best transport method out there.

Tom ages through a few more years, and finds himself driving down another road in the middle of nowhere in his car, and sees a house on fire just off the road. Being a good samaritan, he pulls over and heads up the driveway to a woman running out of the house screaming "Please, help, help! My baby is trapped in there! Go and call 911, please!"

Tom turns around, then, before leaving, has a brainwave.

He turns back and walks towards the flames, saying "Don't worry, ma'am, I've got this."

He takes a deep breath in, and the fire disappears into nothingness. As you'd expect, the woman is in awe, and asks, "Oh my God, how did you do that?!"

Tom simply responds, "Well you see ma'am, I'm an extractor fan."

I was driving my daughter (10F) to her dance class. Although we have taken this route countless times before and she never said a word about it before, she did this time and said as she was looking out the window while driving by a particular area, "Why would anyone build a daycare next to a cemetery?"

Without thought, I said "I don't know, but I bet their neighbors are quiet"

There was a second or two pause and then she said "Daaaaaaad."

My chest puffed up with pride for several miles as I thought I had just crossed the line into Dad Jokedom!

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.

For instance, Kang the Conqueror is a fictional supervillain appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. In 2009, Kang was ranked as IGN's 65th Greatest Comic Book Villain of All Time

or

In the Simpsons , Kang is a Rigellian from Rigel 7. He and his sister Kodos continuously try to take over Earth and are usually seen attacking Springfield. Kang and Kodos have a lot of space weaponry at hand and have their own spaceship. They speak the Rigellian language, which, by coincidence, is identical to English. Although they look identical, Kang has a deeper voice than Kodos.

I guess you could say Skippy is a Kang Guru...

.... although afterwards he was a bit cockeyed.

Although, their Corona has better PR announcements than Mexico’s

A psycho was recently arrested for train robbery. He spoke both English and Spanish, although all we've heard is that he had some sort of loco motive.

Although he's not dating currently.

Just happened on my walk break.

I was taking a stroll downtown and walked by the county courthouse building. I noticed there was an employee (had a county badge) standing outside on the sidewalk and holding a wall clock. I knew what I had to do. I walked up and asked, "Do you happen to have the time?"

One of my proudest moments, although I'm a faux-pa myself. He enjoyed it too.

Although it might be more if I tip the barman.

Although more difficult to maintain, he said their manes are their main appeal.

Although it's lovely to receive such high praise from HMRC, to be honest I can't even remember sending one in.

Although hiking is just walking with extra steps.

Although it's about 99% sound and only 1% advice

Although, it has harmed my career as a goalkeeper.

Although now he's been busted.

So every night for the past almost 6 years I sing her the Sunshine Song

You know, "you are my Sunshine, my only sunshine."

And after a few years I got tired of it and would start songs from the nightmare before Christmas (because I'm a big elfman nerd) and Part of your world (because I'm completely obsessed with singing out of key chick verses and the little mermaid is dope af) but she would SCREAM anytime I started anything that wasn't the Sunshine song, I love this, so I go on for a couple bars while she's screaming then calm her down and sing the right song. To be fair, she likes the I'm On The Outside by boingo, so I belt that too. Although it's only acceptable in the car.

Now here I want to add that in the description of the event I will place a * where she interrupts me and the words immediately after that * will be her words.

Ok, so she's in bed just now and I said What song do you want me to sing?

Obvs sunshine dude.

So I start with the "look at this stuff, isn't it neat?"

And she's not screaming, she has a smile on her face so my mind is like "did she become ok with this, can I finally sing a different song than sunshine and eponas song?" So I keep going thinking that I finally won.

I get to the line, "Fliiping your fins, you won't get too **fart!"

I'm fucking dead this kid played me like a fiddle.

Someone call 911 I'm ded

...although I find most people take it for granite

Although in my experience, you only need two arms.