They dreadlocks.
Wooden start!
A Pikey
I thought what am I letting myself in for.
He was wearing khakis.
There is this ding to tell me my keys are in the ignition still. I shut the door and the ding stops. But I turn on the car and it starts dinging again for my seatbelt notice.
Man, if it's not one ding it's another.
Because communication is key
Edit: it's from here, so please give the op credit
Gay. Very gay
They are key workers
Thankfully, l was able to open the door, by talking to it...
Communication is key.
Bump…
Bump…
Bump…
Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home. The casket still bouncing quickly behind him.
Faster…
Faster…
FASTER…
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
He runs up to his door, fumbles with the keys, opens the door, rushes in and slams and locks the door behind him.
Rushing up the stairs to his bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding. His head is reeling. His breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him.
The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is cough syrup!
Desperate, he throws the cough syrup as the casket!
And…
The coffin stops….
You would open the door with a wand attached to your keychain instead of a key
Calm down and talk to your door. Communication is key.
If you find yourself locked out of your house, talk to the door because communication is key
Three guys walk into a pink hotel, they go threw a pink door, it's the pink reception desk and sign into the pink book. The lady dressed in pink walks them up the pink stairs, down a pink hall then gives them the pink keys to their pink rooms. They all walk into their pink room, put their suitcases down on the pink carpet, then place their clothes in a pink cupboard. They have a bath in their pink shower and dry themselves with the pink towels. They finally go to sleep in the pink beds. They wake in the morning and go downstairs to have breakfast. They have their pink bowls, pink cups and pink cutlery. When they are asked what they want for breakfast one man says he will have weatbix and the other two say they want cornflakes. Once they are finished their food, they pack their suitcases up and leave the pink hotel. The moral of this story is that two out of three people prefer cornflakes...
Why did the police arrest the turkey? > They suspected fowl play.
What would you get if you crossed a turkey with a ghost? > A poultrygeist!
Why did the turkey cross the road twice? > To prove he wasn’t a chicken!
What key won’t open any door? > A turkey!
If you call a large turkey a gobbler what do you call a small one? > Goblet.
Fruit comes from a fruit tree, so where does turkey come from? > A poul-tree.
What happens when you’re too harsh on the cranberries and make them sad? >They turn into blueberries.
What kind of cars would pilgrims drive today? > Plymouth.
There isn’t another soul on the street.
Suddenly, from out of the gloom, comes an ominous bump...bump…bump.
He looks behind him and spots a furtive, shadowy thing coming down the street after him.
Unnerved, he picks up his pace, finally breaking into a panicked run.
He looks behind him again, and the shadow is closer.
Bump…bump…bump.
The glow of a streetlight illuminates the shadow momentarily, and, to the man’s horror, it is a coffin, bumping down the sidewalk.
He quickens his pace, running as fast as he can go, but the coffin only pursues more quickly.
BUMP…BUMP…BUMP!
He reaches his house, fumbles frantically for his keys, and slips in the door just as the coffin reaches his front steps.
He slams the door and leans against it, catching his breath.
Bump…bump…bump.
There is a moment’s silence, and the man wonders if he dares to breathe.
Suddenly…. Bump…bump…bump…Bump…
BUMP! BUMP!
BUMPBUMPBUMPCRAAAAASH!!!!
He rebounds away as the door breaks off its hinges.
Scrambling to his feet, he charges up the stairs, and the coffin races after.
BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!
Terrified, he backs into a corner and starts throwing everything within reach at the coffin — a handful of papers, a vase, a box of crackers, a lamp — but the coffin keeps coming!
BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP INCHESFROMHISFACE, and nothing seems to slow it down!
His hands fall upon a bottle of cough syrup, and he throws that at the coffin, too!
The coffin stops.
His car crashes into a tree, and he escapes unhurt though his car is badly damaged. However, he needs to find somewhere to stay overnight. The man wanders alnog the road until he comes across a monastery. He knocks on the door, and a friendly monk answers.
Man: I've crashed my car and need a place to stay tonight, might I have one of your rooms?
Monk: of course, come right this way.
The monk shows the man to a room, and the man goes to sleep. At midnight, the man is awoken by a loud thumping on the ceiling. He thinks nothing of it and goes to bed, sleeping soundly the rest of the night.
The next day at breakfast he asks one of the monks about the thumping. The monk replies,"sorry, I can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man figures that that's a pretty fair response, and goes to try and fix his car.
After working on the car all day, the man returns to the monastery and asks to stay another night. The monks of course oblige, and the man goes back to the same room. This night, he is awakened by the same thumping, this time even louder. He wonders about it and eventually drifts off to sleep.
The next day, the man continues to work on the car, and needs to stay just one more night to complete it. The monks are happy to give him a room, but the man asks to me moved to a different room so he won't hear the thumping. The man goes to bed but is awakened by even louder thumping.
He decides to go investigate, and climbs the stairs, only to find a locked iron door, with the thumping coming from behind it. Unsatisfied, he goes back to bed.
The next morning, he asks the lead monk about the thumping. The lead monk replies,"sorry, can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man, filled with curiosity, asks the leader how to become a monk. The leader gives him 3 tasks: the first, to circumnavigate the globe, to learn about culture, the second task, to cut an entire field with scissors to learn patience, and the third, to memorize the entire monk book, to learn discipline.
The man completes all the tasks, and the leader takes him up to the iron door and pulls out a key. He opens the door to reveal the Monk's greatest secret.
If you're wondering what it is, I'm sorry, I can't tell you, you aren't a monk.
Scene: Halloween night (this is key), I am donned in normal garb (this is even keyer), and am approaching the front door to my parents house...
Me: knocks on door
Dad: opens door
Dad: "You dressed as a loser?"
Me: :(
End Scene.
I guess, just like my jokes, it's just a little door key.
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.
A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night. He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound.The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave.Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk."The man sa,ys, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk."The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks."In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound."The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door."The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door."The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the kno
... keep reading on reddit ➡So in my calculus class last year in math, there were these two Chinese twins. Ving, and Ling. Ving was always super cool with me. In exchange for answers (he was super smart) I would hang out with him and be his friend and stuff. After I cheated off of him and studied with him though, I did get to be his friend and we got very close.
His sister, Ling, was always uptight about school and she made sure to study, she got stressed about a B, etc. One day I was hanging out with Ving, and we started talking about names. He went off on this huge rant about how he hated his, and how he wanted to change it to something more Asian-American, like Lee. I told him that the Courthouse downtown had a form that you could fill to legally change it. He told me: "I always give you answers. If you could just drive me down to the courthouse this one time, I will never forget you. I just hate this god-forsaken Chinese name and I want to get rid of it forever."
He seemed pretty adamant about it, so I decided the best decision would be to take him. We walked out to my car, and right as I put the keys in the ignition Ling came running and tapped on the car door like a madman. I rolled it down and she started freaking out about how Ving's name had been passed down through generations and generations, but Ving didn't care. He just wanted to go down to the Courthouse and get it over with.
Ling figured that coming with would be the best idea, so if anything else came up that she would be needed for, she would be there for Ving. Honestly, I felt stuck in the middle of a family feud, so I just took her along. When we got to the Courthouse, Ving confidently walked up to the front desk and asked the receptionist if he could change his name. She gave him a little packet of paper and told him to sit down. Ling and I waited patiently while Ving filled out his info. I was watching him fill it out and I noticed he really did want to change his name to Lee.
Before he finished, though, he started tearing up. He told me he couldn't change his name. He asked the lady at the front that he couldn't do it, and she told him he would need twenty dollars to cancel the request. Ling was so relieved and happy that he changed his mind, she dug through her purse, found the money, and started to hand it to the receptionist.
It was at this moment that the most stereotypical Asian man burst through the doors. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a visor, American flag shorts, flip flops, everything. This
... keep reading on reddit ➡Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.
While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).
I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)
The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."
I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.
Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)
What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"
Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.
I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)
I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".
I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten
... keep reading on reddit ➡Scenario: We're closing up for the day, so we need to lock our doors.
One of my co-workers is holding on to the key.
Another one of my co-workers said: Quit being so dorky and give me the door key.
Groaning followed..
She said "this is my favorite Alicia Keys song." My thoughtful reply: "Alicia Keys should open for the Doors."
Our marriage has been through worse but not by much
There is an impossible knot in my dog's leash. As I grabbed it to walk the dog I noticed it was no longer there.
Me: Wow you got the knot out! Her: Yup I had to use a screwdriver to loosen it.
I leash up my pup, walk out the door and close it. Suddenly it hits me and I scramble for my keys and I hold up the leash as I burst the door open with a big smile on my face.
Me: It was knot expected! A short pause as figures out what is going on. Her: GET OUT OF HERE!
I spent the whole dog walk giggling to myself.
"Hi you must be Matt." The mat replies "Haha, you're so dorky" "No I've just got a little door key in me."
My wife and daughter picked me up from work today.
As I'm turning to lock the door, my daughter wants to race me.
'Hold on a sec so I can lock the door'
Then I asked her if she wants to take my keys out of the lock. As soon as she does, I take off for the car.
I lead the worship team at church and I'm the only one with a key to the instrument room. I went to get the key and when I came back, my keyboardist was banging his head on the door over and over.
I said, "were you just gonna try breaking it down like that? I do have a key."
He replied, "well, I thought I was making good headway."
He may have a head injury. Also, he's in his fifties.
'Hey, /thechristy, what's this key go to?' 'The front door. You should take it. I already have one' 'Nah. I don't think I will. It's just too door-key for me.'
I face-palmed. And cue the satisfied grin of father who dad-joked his offspring. Again.
Why should you always take a nerd to a hotel with you?
...
So you always have a door-key
Wooden engine, wooden doors, wooden wheels, wooden seats, put the wooden key in the wooden ignition.
Wooden start.
When behind him he hears:
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
Walking faster, he looks back and makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.
FASTER
FASTER
BUMP...
BUMP...
BUMP...
He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, and slams it shut and locks it behind him.
However, the casket crashes through the door, with the lid of the casket clacking
Clapity-BUMP...
Clapity-BUMP...
Clapity-BUMP...
on his heels, the terrified man runs.
Rushing upstairs in the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him
A man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws the bottle of cough syrup at the casket and...
The coffin stops.
A man is walking home alone one foggy evening, when behind him he faintly hears:
thump...
thump...
thump...
Senses tingling, he begins walking faster only to look back and make out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street towards him.
THUMP...
THUMP...
THUMP...
Terrified, the man begins running home, the casket bouncing quickly behind him.
FASTER
FASTER
THUMP...
THUMP...
THUMP...
He runs up to his door, fumbles with his keys, opens the door, slams it shut and locks it behind him.
However, the casket crashes through the door, and with the lid of the casket clacking on his heels, the terrified man runs.
Clappity-THUMP...
Clappity-THUMP...
Clappity-THUMP...
Rushing upstairs to the bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding; his head is reeling; his breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH! the casket breaks down the door. Thumping and clapping towards him, the man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is a bottle of cough syrup! Desperate, he throws it at the casket and...
The coffin stops.
heading out the door with my friend Me: "hold on, I have to find my car keys" Him: "khakis? I'm wearin em!"
