Counter Top Puns

... it was taken for granite.

I just hope he doesn’t take it for granite

For granite.

My family took it for granite.

It’s called, Take It For Granite

Its really sad. His life was taken for granite.

A lot of the time he will take things for granite.

I took them for granite.

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

Our hardwood flooring guy is Micah. It's weird, but he talks in the 3rd person all the time. Like, "Micah doesn't love all that sanding" or "Painting is not what Micah does." Nice guy though.

I asked him if he'd refinish our counter tops and he said, "That's not formica."

A string walks into a bar. Goes to the counter and asks for a drink. The bartender says “We don’t serve strings here.” Defeated, the string walks outside. He thinks for a moment, and comes up with a plan. The string pulls at the very top of his head. He messes it all up and loosens up what was once in the aglet. He then ties his neck into a knot. He walks back in. He orders a drink. Bartender says, “Aren’t you that string that just walked in here?” String says, “No, I’m a frayed knot.”

He found his way to the men's department where a young lady offered to help him. "Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl. "No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl. "No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.

"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl. "No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.

"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed. "No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience. "No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.

As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "¡Eso sí que es!"

"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.

When I went in for it he punched the counter top and shouted “counter attack!”

So his son plays baseball and his mitt was in rough condition. They make these little boxes for baseball mitts that put out heat, humidity, and massage the mitt slightly to keep it in good condition. They're pretty small and can fit on a kitchen counter top. It's best to keep them near the sink to refill the water reservoir when it gets low. It's helpful if it's like right above the sink. My friend had put his on the bar behind the sink.

It was seriously the nicest bar mitt spa I had ever seen!

The warden saw that deep down, Andy was a good person and made arrangements for Andy to learn a trade while doing his time.

After three years, Andy was recognized as one of the best carpenters in the local area.

Often he would be given a weekend pass to do odd jobs for the citizens of the community and he always reported back to prison before Sunday night was over.

The warden was thinking of remodeling his kitchen and in fact had done much of the work himself.

But he lacked the skills to build a set of kitchen cupboards and a large counter top, which he had promised his wife.

So he called Andy into his office and asked him to complete the job for him.

But, alas, Andy refused.

He told the warden, "Gosh, I'd really like to help you but counter fitting is what got me into prison in the first place."

A while back my parents had a night out and they'd mentioned they would probably go to a movie, so when they got home I asked them which one they saw:

Mom: That Stephen King one, The Mist, I think.

Me: I wanted to see that sometime, how was it?

Dad: It was entertaining, but to be honest I thought it might have been a little over cast.

-Cue boisterous laughter and counter top slapping-

He found his way to the menswear department where a young lady offered to help him.

"Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.

"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.

"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed.

"No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience.

"No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.

As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "Eso sí que es!"

"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.