Don't Smoke Puns

They always end up coffin

They smoke oui’d

And I said "No dad, why?" And then he said "Because they are stoned all the time"

You'll get gum cancer.

I guess it's just a pipe dream.

So, they threw one cigarette off their boat and the boat became one cigarette lighter.

I’ve noticed I can tell when the ocean is smoking pot lately. How can I tell? When I see that the Tide is High.

Don’t know if this counts as a dad joke.

He will be rolling in his grave.

...and finds himself in hell. Walking around, he runs into the devil.

Devil: Why are you so sad?

Guy: Why do you think? I'm in hell.

Devil: Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinkin' man?

Guy: Sure, I love to drink.

Devil: Well you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, Guinness, wine coolers, Diet Coke. We drink until we throw up and then we drink some more.

Guy: Gee, that sounds great.

Devil: You a smoker?

Guy: You better believe it.

Devil: All right! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from around the world and smoke our friggin' lungs out. If you get cancer, it's okay -- you're already dead.

Guy: Golly!

Devil: I bet you like to gamble, too.

Guy: Yes, as a matter of fact I do.

Devil: Good, because Wednesday is gambling day. Craps, blackjack, horse races, you name it. You like to do drugs?

Guy: Yes, I love to do drugs. You don't mean...?

Devil: That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack. Smoke a doobie the size of the Titanic. You can do all the drugs you want, and you'll never die -- you're already dead.

Guy: Neat! I never realized hell was such a happenin' place!

Devil: You gay?

Guy: No.

Devil: Oh, you're gonna hate Fridays

Because they don’t take downers....

They smoke quack

When I was a kid, my favourite thing ever was tractors. It was my first word, my first toy, I had posters of them on my bedroom walls and I loved to draw them too. Unfortunately with age I don’t quite have the same amount of passion nowadays. This all became relevant recently as there was this house fire on my street last week. My instincts told me to enter the house to save the family inside as the Fire Service hadn’t arrived yet. I was able to break down a door and actually clear all of the smoke from the house saving everyone inside. I escorted them out to be greeted by the Fireman who had just arrived. Puzzled, they asked how on earth I was able to clear all the smoke. I simply replied “I’m an extractor fan”.

If your onion sang hip-hop, would that be a rapscallion?

I used to be an astronaut, but I got tired of eating out of satellite dishes. I wasn't allowed to eat the Milky Way, even though I had to look at it every day. The worst thing was, I never got to visit The Space Bar. Then, when I was visiting the dark side of the moon, I was bitten by a parasite. Now, you might think it's crazy, but the doctor who removed it called it a lunar-tick.

If "womb" is pronounced "woom" and "tomb" is pronounced "toom", shouldn't "bomb" be pronounced "boom"?

China recently tested a new steroid. It basically turns you into The Hulk. The side effect is it could turn you into a crazed zombie that tends to rip the upper extremities from people. People are saying that this could be the zombie apocalypse. In my opinion, lips have nothing to do with it. I call it ARMageddon. The only way to stay safe now is to not let anyone close enough to disarm you.

I recently was going to join the railroad union. I decided against it because it's complicated. If I received instruction on driving the locomotive, would they call it engineering, or training?

I got a sad story about a flower. I don't know who the heck she pissed off, but damn, now she's a Black-Eyed Susan.

I finally figured out what makes leaves angry. Fall. They get so mad they change color. Some are yellow. They're just afraid and run from their problems. The other ones usually just leave.

I went parachuting with my military buddies once. We landed on a department store. I told him I think we're at the wrong coordinates. He said: "Nope. We're right on Target"

I asked a psychologist if Native Americans have strong emotions. He said "Oh yeah, they're intense".

If a psychotic person thought something made sense, would that thought be psychological?

If Matt Damon were searching for a secondhand store, would he be Goodwill Hunting?

My friend is a Marksman for the military. One day, he went to the armory and asked for 3 snipers. They gave him a candy bar. It was a 3 Musketeers.

I want to be there if Dwayne Johnson ever uses a pizza stone. That way I can smell what "The Rock" is cookin'.

Christopher bought a lemon, and the car broke down. Now Christopher Walken.

Have you heard about the latest bank battle on Wall Street? Capital One and Chase got in a fight and Capital One.

You know what a pirate says to his wenches when he sees the shoreline? "LAND HO!"

A man finds a lamp in the desert and dusts it off. Poof! A genie p

And I saw a woman smoking while she was fueling. I'm sitting there in dismay when I look over at another pump and see two cops leaning against their car eating hotdogs.

I start giving them this look of "don't you see this? Are you going to do anything?" they seemed unconcerned.

Just as I look back to the woman, I see her arm had caught fire and she's freaking out, flaling her arm around trying to put it out. Suddenly the cops tackle her, putting out the fire and then they arrest her.

I asked them "well, why the hell are you arresting her for? Isn't getting burned bad enough? One of the cops just looked at me and said

"She was waving around a firearm! "

I told her no thanks, I don't smoke.

One day I'm sitting talking to Gramps when another patient suddenly starts running around the room with his fists out in front of him as if riding a motorcycle, screaming "Braaaaaaaaaap, Braaaaap, Braaaaaaap." My Grandpa yells at him: "Goddamit Bill, Stop that!!!"

Me: I know right? The guy makes one hell of a racket!

Grandpa: I don't even mind the noise so much, its the damn smoke that gets to me!

This was a little while ago. I fell off a roof, landing back first on a curb (I'm fine, luckily). The nurse had just finished taking my vitals when this exchange went down:

Nurse: "Do you smoke cigarettes?"

Me: "Nope"

Nurse: "Alcohol?"

Me: "I don't smoke it!"

(bonus!) Doctor: "Well looks like we don't have to check him for a concussion!"

A quaint little men's class,

a few with class,

some smelling of a gin glass,

some with eyes of a lass,

the remainder eyeing a lad,

but all glad,

and all present,

youngster of the present,

bearders of the crescent,

readers new testaments,

preachers of old testaments,

bearers of saffron tenets,

wearers of white tints,

weird lovers of croissant,

well, all here, will all hear?

we never know,

lets look at the show

 

The English teacher, said,

"how to drink a juice?"

i know, said bart the bartender,

"with vodka and chicken tender"

the weirded beardo now angry,

showed he was a shouter,

wanted to be a bart-ender,

while shushing the crowd,

use a pipe, piped up a voice, loud,

"huh" exclaimed preacher pastor,

"no smoking" he said, showing a guilty fluster ,

"no sir" said the voice,

I'm extra maker,

spoke the voice quicker,

Mr.White scratching head,

"I'm an ex-straw maker",

the air cleared.

 

Proceeding further, Teacher continued,

the class was listening, eyes glued,

"etiquette is important" he said,

"wear napkin before eating",

their faces changed,

pulse now beating,

Mr.White said, "sir, we don't bleed",

an irritated saffron Sundar spoke,

"if you bleed, education you don't need"

the English sir, now a sundered bloke,

calmed the masked fish market,

as his God's fate chisel hammered,

"Do you know how to fork?" he stammered,

a brief silence, and too many whispers later

"I Pen is use sir", said a bright face,

"Do you know how to use a fork?" he corrected,

with damage now done, Silence resumed.

 

>ThePundits

I don't have any kids, but I think this was pretty dad-like:

We usually scream at max volume when we play, but our other roommate was sleeping so we had to stay pretty quiet.

It was my Kung Lao and Kano vs his Smoke and Sonya.

I swept him clean, 3-0, and he gave the excuse, "It was because I couldn't get loud."

I told him, "Oh, but you did get loud... KUNG LAO'D!"

He groaned, I basked in the glory.

A Christmas Poem
by Dad (1952–2009)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shack,
Not a creature was stirring, we was all in the sack;

Our mugs were placed on the mantle with cheer,
In hope that Saint Nick would bring us a beer;

And me I was tucked up all snug in my bed,
But strains of sweet music still danced through my head;

So I sprang from my bed with a crash and a clatter,
And off down the hall with bare feet did I patter;

There on the chair sat my musical pipe,
So I sat down to play without fanfare or hype;

Come Mozart, come Hayden, Stravinski and Strauss,
And write me some music to bring down the house;

When down from the chimney appeared with a crash,
A strange little man in the smoke and the ash;

He wiggled and jumped and got up like a shot,
Came over and said, "Man those cinders are hot!";

His stomach it shook like a bowl full of jelly,
For a moment I thought it was dear old aunt Nelly;

His nose like a cherry, his ears like two jugs,
I was worried that this guy just might be on drugs;

His language was foul, his jokes they were crass,
So I opened the door and threw him out on his ass;

But then as I turned, boy was I ever surprised;
I saw what he'd bought me, or so I surmised;

For there in the corner right under the tree,
Was some brand new sheet music and a case of O.V.;

I turned to say thank-you but found he had gone,
He was not in the garden and not on the lawn;

And just when I thought that he couldn't get far,
I realized the old goat had stolen the car;

Off in the distance he said with a wheeze,
"I hated to do it but you left me the keys!";

I smiled and laughed for this much I could savour,
For I'd just sold the car to my idiot neighbour;

And once more he called as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and don't drive when you're tight!"

Thank you for everything, Dad. We love and miss you.

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

Its my last chance to have a smoking hot body, and I don't plan on missing it

In conversation with friends she said.

"My grandpa died of lung cancer and he didn't smoke a day in his life."

"Of course not, he smoked cigarettes."

Eye roll "no, he worked in the mines."

"That's why they don't sell cigarettes to miners."

Groan "you see what I have to put up with."

Me: Hey mom and dad, I got you guys a joint christmas present this year.

Dad: We don't smoke marajuana.

Anyone: "I'm gonna run to the store, do you want anything?" Dad: "Wouldn't it be faster if you took the car?"

Anyone: "...it was sent U.P.S." Dad: "you mean Oops? (ups)"

Anyone: "....would I!?" Dad: "Harelip!"

Anyone: "is it okay if I smoke?" Dad: "why?, are you on fire?"

Anyone: "I think I've got something in my eye" Dad: "It's your finger"

Anyone: "Did you rotate the tires?" Dad: "Nah, they spin when I'm driving"

Anyone: (anything that even nearly rhymes with "badges", ie, "matches") Dad: "Matches? We don need no stinkeen matches!"

Anyone: "Where are you at?" Dad: "I'm right here. Where are you at?"

My girlfriend and I went to a Glitch Mob concert a couple of days ago. When we walked into the venue, the smoke machines were already on, it was almost impossible to see the stage. Immediately I turn to her and say

"Man, I don't know if we'll remember this concert tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"Our memory might be a little foggy."

I had to go look for her in the crowd.

I was talking to my boyfriend about what we should do for his mom for Mother's Day and this happened:

Me: "Should we get a joint gift together for her?"

Him: "I don't think my mom smokes weed."

A reporter once asked Tug if he preferred playing on grass or Astroturf

Tug's response: "I don't know, I've never smoked Astroturf"

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.