At St Puns

"Oh, just a couple of minutes ago."

St. Peter: Your number's up Euler, and Isaac Newton says you have to count all the spheres in the universe before you can enter heaven. What say ye?

Euler: Sigma balls, Dick.

Sigma is used to notate summation.

Summation is the process of adding things together.

He wanted a picture with him so i asked the guy if he allowed Flash photography...

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

Prediction

Apologies for not following the usual formatting. My father-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago. A few weeks ago, we learned it had spread to his brain. Later that day, he told me:

“Well, everyone came by after they heard about the lung cancer and told me how strong and great I am, and that I’d beat lung cancer...”

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

Edit: thank you all for the kind words (and the silver/gold/platinum...I’ll be making matching gifts to St. Jude’s or a similar organization).

Yes he was a great man. At age 20 he was given 3 months to live due to another ‘incurable’ disease. He stuck around for another 45+ years. I could go on and on...

Dad Jokes are great and all, but I'm more into Sun Jokes. They're a little st-upiter and talk about Uranus a lot, but they're equally funny.

I went to practice my joke routine at a cemetery recently. The audience was really lifeless. Except for this one guy, he had a really deadpan laugh though.

Two of them were still apprentices and learning the trade, but the third was a master at the craft and was also my friend. They were currently busy in the workshop working on a set of great wooden letters which spelled "BEAST". "Is your friend Paul the one working on the misshapen B?" Izzy asked. "Nope, that's not him.", I replied. "So is it the one working on the crooked E?"she responded. "Most certainly not!" I answered. I finally saw him and exclaimed, "On ST is the best Paul, Izzy!"

is walking in St. Petersburg Square one cold evening, when a light precipitation begins to fall.

"It looks like rain", said the man.

"Oh no dear, it's definitely snow. Look at the way it blows in the light", said the woman.

The man turns to his wife and says, "Let's ask the military officer over there. Officer Rudolph, is it raining or snowing?"

"Definitely rain, sir!"

"See, Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear!"

St. Peter was guarding the Pearly Gates, waiting for new souls coming to heaven. He saw Jesus walking by and caught his attention. "Jesus, could you mind the gate while I go do an errand?"

"Sure," replied Jesus. "What do I have to do?"

"Just find out about the people who arrive. Ask about their background, their family, and their lives. Then decide if they deserve entry into Heaven."

"Sounds easy enough. OK."

So Jesus manned the gates for St. Peter. The first person to approach the gates was a wrinkled old man. Jesus summoned him to sit down and sat across from him. Jesus peered at the old man and asked, "What did you do for a living?"

The old man replied, "I was a carpenter."

Jesus remembered his own earthly existence and leaned forward. "Did you have any family?" he asked.

"Yes, I had a son, but I lost him."

Jesus leaned forward some more. "You lost your son? Can you tell me about him?"

"Well, he had holes in his hands and feet."

Jesus leaned forward even more and whispered, "Father?"

The old man leaned forward and whispered, "Pinocchio?"

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

so I'm really interested in this girl, and she wanted to watch a movie with me at her place. I ask for her house address and the conversation is more or less this:

"oh my address is 747 blah blah blah st."

"I didn't know you lived on a jumbo jet!"

"That was awful."

"I know I'm sorry I was way out of line with that. It was a pretty plane and Boeing joke. I'm glad your feelings aren't up in the air about it though."

I might have heard a groan from twenty miles away.

Girlfriend sent a text to tell me her bus was late.

GF: Jesus Christ just got out at University St.

Me: Wow! Did he heal any lepers or anything?

GF: There should have been a period after Christ.

Me: There is! It's called A.D.

So he finds the man who owns the horse. The owner takes him to the stable. The buyer asks to take the horse for a test ride.

 

"Okay," says the owner. "But I'm a retired church pastor. The horse will only go forward if you say, 'Praise the lord.' He will only stop moving if you say 'Hallelujah.' "

 

Feeling annoyed, the buyer says "That's fine," and he gets up on the horse. After the seller returns to the house, the buyer, mounted on the horse, whips the reins and says, "Hiyah!!" The horse doesn't move. "Yah," he said, spurring the horse. Still no movement. Feeling a little embarrassed and stupid, he complied to the owner's instruction. "Praise the Lord," he mumbled, and the horse began quickly trotting away from the stable.

 

Wow, the buyer thought, excited. I wonder how fast this horse can go. "Praise the Lord," he said, this time at normal volume. The horse sped up considerably.

 

Amazing! I must have this horse! the buyer thought. "Praise the Lord!" he shouted. "Praise the Lord!" And the horse kept speeding up. The stable behind them was no longer visible.

But the horse and the buyer were speedily approaching a huge canyon. Seeing this ahead, the buyer commanded, "St- stop! Whoaaa, horse!" But the horse kept the charge forward. "Hallelujah!" the buyer shouted. And the horse stopped at the edge of the vast canyon, with only inches of ground to spare.

Looking up to the sky, the buyer sighed in relief. "Praise the Lord."

"If they sold marijuana at the St. Louis Arch, it would literally be a gateway drug..."

First one, we were in some really bad St. Paddy's Day traffic. The people around us were honking and getting pissed and cutting each other off. She remarked that "someone's gonna get in an accident...well, in this case it would be an 'on purpose.'"

Second one, we were at the zoo and I pointed out the zebras, saying that I had spotted them. "Uh, don't you mean you striped them?"

At my parent's house for father's day and my dad was reminiscing about his old neighborhood, referring to St. Louis Park, MN as 'St. Jewish Park'.

Me: It was called St. Jewish Park?

My Dad: Yep, there was a Rosenblum on every corner.

(we're jewish... so that doesn't make it nearly as anti-semitic as it sounds now as i type it out)

A few days ago, I was headed home after dinner with my parents and I was sitting shotgun while my dad was driving. We are coming up to a yellow light at Dublin St. and my dad slams on the breaks to avoid running a red light. I go "Dad you should have floored it, we almost made it through Ireland." I got a fist bump from my ol' man and groan from my mother. Mission accomplished.

Recently, Joe has been under the slight suspicion that his wife is cheating on him. So, one day he comes home early from work, to his crap-shoot apartment on the eighth floor, and hears her scurrying around when he enters. Almost as if there's another person in the house. When he calls out her name she hollers back that she just ran into the shower. So he investigates the bedroom and encounters a shocking surprise... a pair of hands dangling from the other side of the window sill! Those of a grown man, hanging on for dear life. Infuriated at the sight of the man who's sleeping with his wife, Joe takes the bedside lamp and starts bashing the guy's fingers until he falls eight stories onto the sidewalk. Only he's still alive, writhing and broken. So Joe hauls the refrigerator from the kitchen out the window, sending it down onto the poor sucker, killing him instantly. Now the hysteria of the moment induces a fatal heart attack and Joe himself, dies. So now, as he's up at the pearly gates, St. Peter is telling all the incoming souls that in order to gain access into heaven, they need to provide a solid account of how they died. After hearing Joe's story, St. Peter allows him in. The next man in line says that he was tanning in the sun, drunk, on the roof of his apartment building when he fell off, only to catch hold of a window sill that could have saved his life, until a crazed bastard beat his fingers and threw a refrigerator onto him. St. peter tells him that he's a shoe-in. And when he asks the next guy in line how he ended up deceased, the guy replies, "...So I'm naked in a refrigerator, right?"

My coworker got back from the Essence Festival in New Orleans today and was sharing about it in a group of 4 black people and myself (pretty white). Her: Bourbon st. is so overrated, we just went back to the apartment at 1:30 when some fools started shooting. Me: What? Why'd you leave just when the party started poppin'!?

Groans and laughs were had by all...

An Aussie blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates. 'I'm sorry,' St Peter said; 'but Heaven is suffering from an overload of godly souls and we have been forced to put up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden of Heavenly Arrivals.'

'That's cool' said the blonde, 'What does the entrance exam consist of?'

'Just three questions' said St Peter.

'Which are?' asked the blonde.

'The first,' said St Peter, 'is, which two days of the week start with the letter 'T'? The second is 'How many seconds are there in a year'?

The third is 'What was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?''

'Now,' said St Peter, 'Go away and think about those questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to have those answers for me.'

So the blonde went away and gave those three questions some considerable thought (I expect you to do the same).

The following morning, St Peter called upon the blonde and asked if she had considered the questions, to which she replied, 'I have.'

'Well then,' said St Peter, 'Which two days of the week start with the letter T?'

The blonde said, 'Today and Tomorrow.'

St Peter pondered this answer for some time and decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the question.

'Well then, could I have your answer to the second of the three questions' St Peter went on, 'how many seconds in a year?' The blonde replied, 'Twelve!' 'Only twelve' exclaimed St Peter, 'How did you arrive at that figure?' 'Easy,' said the blonde, 'there's the second of January, the second of February, right through to the second of December, giving a total of twelve seconds.'

St Peter looked at the blonde and said, 'I need some time to consider your answer before I can give you a decision.' He walked away shaking his head.

A short time later, St Peter returned to the blonde. 'I'll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?'

The blonde replied: 'Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer.' 'Really!' exclaimed St Peter, 'and what is the answer?' 'It's Andy.' 'Andy??' 'Yes, Andy,' said the blonde. This totally floored St Peter and he paced this way and that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand the suspense any longer and turning to the blonde, asked 'How in God's name did you arrive at

Two men die and go to heaven. The first man walks up to the pearly gates, and St. Peter says, "In order to get into heaven, you must have had a manly job on Earth. What was your job?"

The first man says, "I was a diesel fitter."

St. Peter looks confused, but says, "I don't know what that is, but it definitely sounds manly. You can go in."

As the first man walks through the gates, the second steps up to St. Peter. He again says, "In order to get into heaven, you must have had a manly job on Earth. What was your job?"

The second man says, "I worked at the department store in the women's underwear department."

St. Peter says, "Well, that's definitely not manly. I don't think I can let you in."

The man gets very upset and says, "What about that guy you just let in?"

St. Peter says, "He was a diesel fitter!"

The man says, "I know! We worked in the same department! I would sew up the underwear, and he would put them on his head and yell 'DEEZ 'LL FIT HER!'"

Apologies for not following the usual formatting. My father-in-law was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago. A few weeks ago, we learned it had spread to his brain. Later that day, he told me:

“Well, everyone came by after they heard about the lung cancer and told me how strong and great I am, and that I’d beat lung cancer...”

pauses for effect

“...I guess I let it go to my head.”

Edit: thank you all for the kind words (and the silver/gold/platinum...I’ll be making matching gifts to St. Jude’s or a similar organization).

Yes he was a great man. At age 20 he was given 3 months to live due to another ‘incurable’ disease. He stuck around for another 45+ years. I could go on and on...