American Wake Puns

This might be a bit long? My family isn't the brightest of individuals.

Sister: My balls are caught in the door!

Me: LOL, WHAT?

Sister: The poof balls on my shoes.

**Grandpa**: I saw you took my junk out of your car and threw it into my car.

**Grandma**: *grins and nods*

**Grandpa**: You're so sweet.

**Grandma**: And I saw lotto tickets too.

**Grandpa**: I dunno where those came from.

**Grandma**: Uh-huh. Probably a damn $5 dollar ticket too.

**Grandpa**: No, $2.

**Me**: He doesn't know where they came from, but he knows how much they cost.

**Grandpa**: *starts adding more to my list of chores*

~

**Grandpa**: It's kinda hot in here.

**Grandma**: NO IT'S NOT, Take off your damn clothes if you're hot.

**Grandpa**: Is that all you ever want me to do, take my clothes off?!

**Me**: OH DEAR GOD, I'M RIGHT HERE.

~

**TV**: The line, "To be, or not to be. That is the question!" is from which Shakespeare play?

**Grandma**: Julius Caesar, right?

**Me**:  Wow.

~

**Me**: How can you NOT like that movie. It has WILL SMITH.

**Grandma**: *thinks* Is it that movie, and he has a partner?!

**Me**: YES. And he's in the west and there's that giant spider at the end!

**Grandma**: WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!

**ME**: I DID.

~

**Grandpa**: I need to get a tree saw.

**Grandma**: What's a tree saw...

**Me**: A TREE SAW. A saw, that saws trees. You can't simplify it anymore than that.

~

*while watching American Idol*

**Me**: Omg, that guy's nose is HUGE.

**Grandpa**: If he sniffs really hard, he could overdose on oxygen.

~

**Grandpa**: I'm looking for my camouflage underwear, but they're camouflaged so well, that I can't find them!

~

*Sister rambles on about hating cats and how they're scary*

**Me**: You're just a weenie, Tyla.

**Tyla**: Oh yeah?  Well at least Papa loves weenies!

*Me and Papa look at each other*

**Me**: I sure as hell hope Papa does NOT like weenies.

~

*As we drive home, the tornado siren goes off* 

**Kaylah**: Have you ever seen it?

**Me**: ...Seen what? 

**Kaylah**: The car with the siren.

**Me**: What in the hell are you talking about? 

**Kaylah**: Isn't the tornado siren on a car that drives around town? 

**Me**: ......

~

*While driving through Alton one morning* 

**Grandma**: Here, take a sip of this.

**Me**: Ew.  Coffee is nasty.

**Grandma**: No it isn't!  It wakes ya up, and puts hair on your chest!

~

*Grandma walks out of the bathroom and wipes her wet hands on my face* 

**Grandma*

I just came back from a holiday back to the UK to visit friends and family (am an expat).

While we were there we went to a nice community festival, with some great beers. An American friend of a friend proudly proclaimed that he’d bought a pint of red stout.

Looking up at the board, and seeing the name of the beer, my eyes lit up: a golden opportunity had just presented itself.

‘Nah mate, that’s not red stout, it’s called Red Stoat. You do know what a stoat is, right?

[confusion]

‘Well, it’s a little rodent, a bit like a weasel. You know how you can tell the difference between a stoat and a weasel?’

‘Er..’

‘Well’, I says, ‘a weasel is weasily identifiable, and a stoat is stoatally different.’

Cue a puzzled look on the guys face, and a moment’s silence, broken by me and my friend pissing ourselves laughing, not at the joke of course, but at his reaction.

So this was all very well and good, just another in the litany of bad jokes that floats in my wake, and I thought the story ended there.

Karma, however, had other plans…

A few days later, we’re up in the Lake District, walking back to the hotel after a pub dinner. As we’re walking down the road, we see a small carnivorous rodent dragging the recently deceased body of a rabbit back to its home. It was either a stoat, or a weasel, but you know what? I honestly had no way to tell which…