A list of over 350 Dad Jokes!

Save them to your Phone and always have witty jokes at the palm of your hand.

3.14 percent of sailors are pi-rates.

5/4 of people admit they’re bad at fractions.

A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.

A brain walks into a bar and takes a seat. “I’d like some wings and a pint of beer, please,” it says. “Sorry, but I can’t serve you,” the bartender replies. “You’re out of your head.”

A cheeseburger walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Sorry, we don't serve food here.'

A college education now costs $100,000, but it produces three very proud people: the student, his mama, and his pauper.

A couple of cups of yogurt walk into a country club. “We don’t serve your kind here,” the bartender says. “Why not?” one yogurt asks. “We’re cultured.”

A friend of mine didn’t pay his exorcist. He got repossessed.

A friend of mine is known for sweeping girls off their feet. He’s an extremely aggressive janitor.

A guy walks into a bar, and there’s a horse serving drinks. The horse asks, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a horse tending bar before?” The guy says, “It’s not that. I just never thought the parrot would sell the place.”

A guy walks into a bar...and he was disqualified from the limbo contest.

A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head. The bartender says, “What’s with the paper towel?” The pirate says, “Arrr! I’ve got a Bounty on me head!”

A turtle is crossing the road when he’s mugged by two snails. When the police ask him what happened, the shaken turtle replies, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”

Armed robbers—some say they’re a drain on society, but you’ve got to give it to them.

Barbers…you have to take your hat off to them.

Can February March? No, but April May!

Cooking out this weekend? Don’t forget the pickle. It’s kind of a big dill.

Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don't think they'll fit me.

Dad, can you put the cat out? I didn't know it was on fire.

Dad, did you get a haircut? No, I got them all cut!

Dad: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? Son: No. What happened? Dad: The teacher woke him up.

Daughter: I have a lot of friends named Nathan. There’s Nathan Miller, Nathan Radcliff, Nathan Lewis… Me: When they are together, do you call them the United Nathans?

Dear Math, grow up and solve your own problems.

Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head!

Did you hear about the aquatic sea mammals that escape

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👤︎ u/Bugasum
đź“…︎ Jun 10 2022
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This story is about a man called Trevor, and his obsession with tractors.

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

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👤︎ u/ShredderSte
đź“…︎ Aug 07 2020
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A short story

John Deavensmit was not having a good time. After an incident involving a coffee spill, he'd been sued for $50 million, and somehow the jury had ruled against him. There was no way he could pay that much money; he'd go bankrupt.

Naturally, he filed for an appeal, but the winner of the case was already beginning to hound him for money, hoping to get at least something before the judgement was overturned. John was nearly at his wit's end before he found an unusual package in his mailbox.

It was from a couple of his friends, who all went on to law school when John left to create a startup. They'd all been very successful, and had gone on to be justices at various levels, from courts in a small county in Wisconsin all the way to the Supreme Court. When he opened it up, he was surprised to see an ink drawing of a thick wooden stick. It was signed by his friends, and accompanied by a note:

> Hey John, > > We're sorry to hear about your loss in court last month. We met up at a judge conference in the Davison Center, and we thought that we'd do something special for you. We met up in the Grapefruit Room and all worked together to draw this. We hope you enjoy it! > > Your friends

Now, John had been to D.C. a few times, and knew about the Davison Centre. It was renowned for its very offbeat architecture. The Grapefruit Room was one of the weirdest: it had been constructed by taking a world-record grapefruit, carving out the flesh, and preserving the rind. The result was a walk-in fruit, and it always smelled of citrus.

It took John a while to work out the significance of the gift, but when he realized it, he was overjoyed. His good friends had seen fit to grant him a stave judge-men penned in a peel.

đź‘Ť︎ 9
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👤︎ u/scshunt
đź“…︎ Sep 28 2012
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