Breathing Time Puns

...surely you've heard of the "dragon drop" interface.

A super calloused fragile mystic hexed with halitosis (edited, thanks kind friends for the correction!)

Because he was a neck-romancer.

In medieval times, people were named Lance a lot

I’m afraid I might be assmatic.

It was a blowout!

There was once a boy. He was the son of the richest man in the universe. Mark Zuckerberg, Bill Gates, he dwarfed them all. He was a multi-trillionaire. Now, it was this boy's birthday. His father asked him,

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. A store full of lego, all the video games in the world, anything. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one pink ping pong ball."

His father was rather confused by this request. Out of all the things he could've chosen, his son chose a ping pong ball. Nonetheless, he agreed and gave him a pink ping pong ball. His son was overjoyed and spoke to him.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong ball?"

"Okay son, go ahead."

The boy then went up to his room and played with his pink ping pong ball. When his father went in the next morning to check on him, the boy was sleeping in his bed and the pink ping pong ball was nowhere to be found.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

His son replied.

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one box full of pink ping pong balls."

His father was again, confused by this. Still, he bought a cardboard box and filled it with ping pong balls. He gave it to his son, who said.

"My father, you have made me the happiest boy in the world. May I go up to my room and play with my pink ping pong balls?"

The father nodded, and the son went up to his room to play. The next morning when his father went to check, the boy was sleeping peacefully and there were no pink ping pong balls in sight. Just the empty cardboard box in the middle of the room.

On the boy's next birthday, his father asked him again.

"My son. I am the richest man in the universe. I could buy you anything you want for your birthday. What would you like?"

"Oh father. It would make me the happiest boy in the world if you could get me one truck full of ping pong balls."

Now, by this point, the father was extremely confused. Why did the boy want so many pink ping pong balls and where were they going? He asked.

"My son. You are the most precious thing in the world to me and I can certainly get you this, but may I ask, why do you want

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

Putting a strain on our relationships

This isn't where they be long.

Gandhi, by the time he died, he was a very thin and elderly man who had walked almost everywhere he went barefoot causing thick pads on the bottom of his feet. He was also an extremely wise man who many considered a seer, and he ate ethnic Indian cuisine causing bad breath........Turns out he was a super fragile calloused mystic hexed by halitosis.

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

A nurse asked her what's wrong, and my wife screamed, "Shouldn't! Wouldn't! Didn't!"

The nurse shook her head and said, "I'm sorry…I don't understand."

My wife's face contorted in pain as she shouted, "Can't! Won't! Don't!"

The nurse, bewildered, turned the doctor.

"Admit her," the doctor said. "She's having contractions."

What tree do you wipe your hands on? A palm tree!

I heard a scary math joke, but I’m 2^^2 to tell it!

Have you heard of that new movie, “Constipation”? Well it doesn’t matter, it never came out.

I hurt myself when I went to a theme park in florida. When I went to the doctor, he started wrapping up my left leg, but then I pointed at my right and said “No, doc, it’s dis knee.”

Last night I got mugged by 6 dwarves. Not Happy.

When Queen Elizabeth farts, everyone in the room must pretend like nothing happened. Noble Gasses don’t cause reactions, after all.

What’s the difference between a seal and a sea lion? One electron.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises? It becomes Daytrogen!

I called the animal shelter today and said "I've found six kittens in a suitcase in the woods." They said "Are they moving?" I replied "I don't know, but that would explain the suitcase."

Why can’t you trust Atoms? Because they make up everything!

Why do nerds wear glasses? It helps with division.

Why should you tiptoe past the medicine cabinet? You don’t wanna wake the sleeping pills.

What twitches and is found at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck!

What do you call a fat psychic? A four chin teller!

What do you call a 3 foot tall psychic on the run from the law? A small medium at large!

Help, I can’t stop reading books with female protagonists! I’m a heroine addict!

How did Sparticus react when he ate his wife for dinner? He was gladiator!

When does a joke become a dad joke? When the punchline becomes apparent!

19 and 20 got into a fight… 21.

My friend told me, “People who sell meat are disgusting!” So I said, “Yeah, well people who sell fruits and vegetables are grocer!”

How can turtles take photos of themselves? Shell-fie sticks!

What do you call a secret agent molecule? Bond… ionic bond. “Taken, not shared.” What did the dinosaur say to the other dinosaur? (Cut this part, but make a screeching noise)

How much does Santa’s sleigh cost? $0, it’s on the house.

If America switched from pounds to kilograms overnight there would be mass confusion.

I had a splinter once; it eventually got out of hand.

I’m going to go stand outside. If anyone asks, I’m outstanding.

Most people are shocked to find out how terrible an electrician I am!

What do mermaids wash their fins with? Tide What’s the coolest place to use the bathroom? The Lil Jon

Did you know that on average, people want three covers on their bed at all times? But that’s just a blanket statem

Anyone who makes a pun about iron should pay a periodic Fe, I would stop now but that'd be Nobel of me, HeHeHe. Be sure to take a deep breath before you say "NO". At this point you might thinking we should get Iridium of this guy in rl too. I'll eventually run out of chemical puns, right? Na, which might be your mood coincidentally. This guy must be a fake as Silicone, he got this from somewhere to which I reply, Si, senor! I Cu calling for the coppers, but any "Bro" of mine wouldn't. Don't worry, the best ones Argon by now. Au reading this! This winding list is surely golden by now, right?

As we close this out, allow me to echo your thoughts one last time, Fr y'all.

"F"In"Al"Y"

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."

The only time I experience humility is when I get in my hot car and it feels hard to breathe!

You know he fasted a lot, which made him skinny and frail. He also walked barefoot for most of his life. Spent a lot of time pondering life's imponderable mysteries. Oh, and they say he had bad breath. In other words, I guess Gandhi was a super-fragile calloused mystic suffering halitosis.

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

In the not too distant future, web censorship is pervasive; speech and freedom are strangers to one another; while pirates sail the seas with impunity, digital pirates are incarcerated by the busload.

Anyone who speaks out against this ban on open-dialogue or the free-sharing-of-ideas is ground down and hidden away, and the resistance is loosing its will.

A small group of contributors to reddit, huddled together in a bunker beneath barely-waving flags of Snoo, worked tirelessly to repost new ideas from around the internet, to release ideas from their chains, and make speech free ... again!

But it was not to be - a gang of the governments anti-piracy enforcers descended on this, the last bastion of humankind's will to share-freely. Arriving in an armored bus, ten shock-troopers breached the bunker and it looked like the day was lost.

Fortunately for us all, one brave redditor led the collective out a back entrance and they circled to the driveway. This leader told the other redditors to wait in the bushes while he overpowered the one soldier left guarding the transport. There was a flash of movement, a crack from a fallen branch as it struck the guard, and then, stolen keys in hand, the hero revved the engine and told the redditors to pile in.

He had to will himself ignore the gas gauge as he floored the accelerator on the 25,000 pound ticket to freedom - there was only survival or defeat, and nothing in between. Sirens came alive behind him as he rushed for the border to the promised land, to the Free-North.

As the engine begins to cough, the titanic weight of the transport cleaves the barricades asunder and the pursuing vehichles have to hard-brake to avoid skidding beyond their corrupt jurisdiction. Both exhausted and elated, the redditors follow their hero to the freedom promised by their new surroundings ... but their peril is not yet passed.

Though most of the pirate-hunters glower from the south-side of the border, one special agent has crossed over and is speaking with the border guards. The tension is thick. A long-faced guard turns to the newcomers, clearly troubled by what he must do.

"Folks," he says, a pained look on his kindly face, "I'm sorry, to do this, don't cha' know, but I got no choice, eh!"

Confused, the redditors look to one another, and tremble as they notice the agent's smug expression, greedy eyes fixed on the leader of the exodus.

"Look here, now, you are all welcome here, of course, and since speech is free here, we are

So, I've been infuriating my wife with dadjokes for some time now. Phrases such as "I hate you" and "please don't ever speak again" are all-too-common.

Recently, my wife measured my size for a piece of a breathing machine that attaches to my nose (I have sleep apnea).

Me: Oh honey you were right about the breathing machine. I'm definitely a size medium!

Wife: I was right about the nose thing?

Me: Yes.

Wife: Would you say that my assessment was on the nose?

I stood back in awe. She had bested me. I will never, ever, be able to tell a dadjoke like that.

Three college students (Jim, Tom, and Steve) decided to stay overnight in an abandoned house that was supposedly haunted, all to prove that there was nothing supernatural there. They decided to sleep in separate rooms to increase chances of scary things happening. Each room was connected to one long hallway which lead to some stairs. After a while, the three called it a night and went to their separate rooms.

At midnight, Jim woke up to the sound of a scream coming from one of the rooms. He ran out into the hall where he met Steve, who also had just woken up. They walked into Tom’s room, and he was nowhere to be found. “Surely this must be a prank” thought Jim, and he and Steve decided to go back to bed. He slept for almost an hour when Jim woke up to another scream coming from a different room. He ran into the hall, and this time Steve did not join him. He walked into Steve’s room, and noticed that Steve had completely vanished. Still in the mindset that this was a prank by his two friends two, Jim went back to bed.

An hour later, Jim woke up to the sound of thumping in the hallway. He went out of his room and saw a giant coffin with chainsaws attached to where arms would be. The coffin was also blocking the exit, meaning that the only way to go was the stairs! Jim immediately ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, then heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started running again! He ran into another set of stairs going up, so he ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, when once again, he heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started to run. Eventually, he reached a dead end in a bathroom. He turned around to see the coffin at the doorway. Frantically, Jim scavenged the cabinets for anything he could use to fight it. All he could find was some cough drops. Using all the strength he had, he threw the cough drops at the coffin. Upon impact, the coffin suddenly started to dissolve! Before long nothing remained of it. Jim was astonished! The cough drops had stopped his coffin.

John the Baptist of Biblical fame used to walk through the desert in his bare feet. This left his feet tough, which is understandable- the hot sand and rough terrain would leave anyone's feet tough. He was known to receive signs from God and occasionally perform mystical feats. He subsisted on a diet of locusts and honey. Without access to dental hygiene at the time, this left him with somewhat bad breath. It also left him frail, as the diet wasn't varied and would have required an immense intake of food to be remotely sustained.

I guess that you could say that he was a super-callused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis.

At work today, a friend of mine came in with two dried Carolina Reaper peppers. If you aren't familiar with these bad boys, they are hotter than Lucifer's testicles themselves. 2.2 Million Scoville units. Two times hotter than the ghost pepper.

To put it into perspective, a jalapeno is about 5000 scoville units. This one was 2.2 fucking million.

Anyway. I walked past my buddy's desk and he asked if I wanted some of the pepper.

OF COURSE I DID!!!

He gave me 1/4 of one of these little peppers and he even dared me to chew it for 15 seconds before swallowing. Which I did. To say that my mouth felt like the burning hemorrhoids of satans budding asshole would be a vast understatement.

One of the girls who sat near my buddy looks at me -- pacing back and forth around the room, sweating, crying -- and she says:

>"Cane-Dewey, are you alright!?"

I could barely breathe let alone speak. But through all the pain and angush, I still managed to mutter out:

>"No, I'm half left.

My dad's favorite joke of all time (there are many variations, and of course, even more extended versions):

These three guys went to South America to explore the rain forest. The guide was leading them through explaining the different plants and animals. After awhile they started to hear this really loud sound.

whoosh

whoosh

whoosh

The men, kind of scared, asked the guide what the noise was.

"What the hell is that noise?"

"Oh, that's just the Foo bird."

"The Foo bird?"

"Yes, it's a giant bird, and the locals believe that if it poops on you, wiping it off will cause instant death."

"That's silly."

"Well, that's what the locals say."

The noise gets louder and closer.

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

The men look up in the sky and see a glimpse of the Foo bird.

"It's huge!"

Suddenly...

SPLAT

All four of the men are covered with bird shit. The guide pulls a cloth out of his pocket and wipes the shit off of his face. He drops dead.

The first of the three men says, "that's got to be a coincidence."

He wipes the shit off, and drops dead.

The second guy nervously says, "it can't be true"

He wipes it off and drops dead.

The third guy doesn't wipe it off. He was found a few days later, and went home, refusing to be cleaned.

A few years pass, his life has been destroyed due to being covered in shit. His wife left him, his friends won't come near him, he can't find a job... One day, he's in the bathroom shaving around the shit.

"It's been years, most of it has flaked off, it's probably fine to wipe it off now."

He hesitates, but eventually grabs a towel, wets it down, and takes a deep breath.

He wipes the shit off, looks up into the mirror smiling, then drops dead.

The moral of the story is:

If the Foo shits, wear it.

We were taking a tour of a national park, where you drive around in your car and look at all the fauna from a distance. (Think safari, but in the US instead of the Savanna)

My grandfather, who is very stoic and usually pretty quiet, asked us if we wanted to hear his deer call. We of course said yes, so he takes his time rolling up a magazine to use as a megaphone.

He rolls his window down, puts the makeshift megaphone to his mouth...takes a deep breath...and shouts "HERE DEER, HERE DEER!!"

We were driving through the mountains a few weeks ago and passed through a small tunnel. Upon exiting I exhaled sharply and started panting like I was struggling to hold my breath the whole time.

GF: "Sounds like you almost didn't make it..."

Me: "Yeah, for a second there I had tunnel vision"

So my girlfriend and I are lying in bed this morning having just woken up. We both took deep breaths and exhaled at the same time and she says, "Oh look, our breathing is in sync". I reply, "I'd prefer if our breath was The Backstreet Boys".

She promptly knocked me out of bed.

I was in Elementary School at the time of this joke, and it still makes me chuckle thinking back on it. My teacher had us running a couple of laps around the school's grassy field. I always had breathing problems, what I'm assuming is mild asthma although it's never been diagnosed. I ran up to the teacher after running a few minutes and told him I lost my breath. He asked something along the lines of, "Well do you want help finding it?" He made the entire class search the ground for my breath. One equally sarcastic child brought me the empty wrapper to a Rice Crispy treat. Oh how I loved that teacher.

So dad asks how I did on my last final:

Me: I blew it out of the water!

And he interrupts me with this one:

Dad: I hope you didn't hold your breath the whole time!

This was quite a while ago, I was probably in middle school (currently 26). My family took a quick day trip to Universal Studios Hollywood since we live in the greater LA area. Now to set the scene, my dad is a native of Mexico but has lived here since his late teens so his English is pretty good with a tinge of an accent since Spanish is his primary language. We park in the parking garage on property and we do the usual "make a mental note of where we parked for later". That's when I see a smirk come across his face as he turns to me laughing under his breath.

-"What's so funny?"

-"Notice where we parked?"

-"Yeah. Jurassic Park lot, 3B"

Cue dad

-"Jurassic Park..." half expecting me to laugh. He continues "Jurassic Park... Jurr-Ass-is-Parked"

facepalm

As terrible as it was at the time, I've tried to pull this joke out with friends years later, eye rolls and crickets. Thanks dad.

This made him a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Edit: I do now realize I misspelled Gandhi. I cannot edit the title, just know that I see it and am sorry.

This made him, A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Edit: Wow! Didn't expect this big reaction! Thanks for the silver! Edit 2: And gold!? Thanks again! :)

This made him, A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

This made him a super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

Edit: I do now realize I misspelled Gandhi. I cannot edit the title, just know that I see it and am sorry.

This made him a...

Super calloused fragile mystic with extra halitosis.

I told him that's the last thing I need.