Drag Name Puns

Miss Representative.

Sucks dick like a pro. Doesn't let me cum and wants me to eat her ass.

Suddenly huge bouncer from before barges in and shoves me away with an unrelenting force. Proceed eats out Sky's ass like a boss

Yells "Sky's rim belongs to the nords"

(sorry for long post but friend sent this to me and i have no idea where it goes, could use some help)

Right where you left it

Son: “Dad don’t you have a shovel instead?”

I don’t know how to punish him now if he starts smoking.

Hello! So my name is Manson and i'm trying to think of drag stage names including my name! I want it to be a pun so this is why im asking here.Extra points if its gothic!

Right where you left it. GO ARMY!

It doesn’t matter, because it isn’t coming

Pig plays the drums, Horse sings, and Cow plays the guitar. They’re all exceptionally talented, and form a band, supplementing other spots from around the city. They play local dives, some free shows in the park, and they begin to get some traction. Pig suggests they record an album, and they send demos all over. One label is willing to give them a shot, and they open for a B List name on their tour. During the tour, they amass millions of fans, and by the time they record their first major studio album, they have a following so big that 3 of their songs top the charts. They soon find themselves headlining their own tour, as well as every major music festival.

The three friends are over the moon with their success. Never in their wildest dreams did they believe they’d find themselves rubbing shoulders with music greats. It doesn’t come without its downsides, though. Pig has turned to coke and pills to help him get through the long nights. Horse loves the party side of his new life, and his band mates often hide bottles from him when they’re not dragging him, drunk, to his bed. Cow is sad. Watching his friends fall apart, he misses being home and when things were more simple. Keeping his friends in line and covering for them is taking a toll on his own health.

After a year and a half on the road, the band is in the studio attempting to record their second album. Horse is fast asleep, drooling on the mixing board, hungover from the night before. Pig hasn’t even shown up. Cow has a breakdown, and shakes Horse awake. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” Horse waves him off, and falls back asleep. Cow packs up his guitar and buys a one-way ticket home.

A few days later, Pig is all over the news. He’s in jail for possession. Cow watches the news and shakes his head. He knew it was a sinking ship. Horse hears the news from their manager, who is also calling to tell him that he quit. He wakes up to the phone call, and texts Cow, pleading to have a conversation. Radio silence. Horse stumbles out of bed and heads for his favorite pub. He can’t believe that he’s down two friends, that the band has split up, and his life is in shambles. He sits at the bar. “I’ll have my usual,” he says. The bartender leans over to hand Horse a whiskey. “Hey buddy, why the long face?”

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

He names it cigarette.

Every night he takes it out for a drag.

His name was Cigarette, we'd take him out for a quick drag, every so often.

For reference: Link to wiki

Some of these are done in a kind of "news headline"-style:

• Choir leader fired after using too much sexual innuendo; "Lewd Ex Cantor."

• Video on demand about a street where nothing happens; "Vod of the Boring Alley."

• Man's brutal cousin turns out to be a great bloke; "Raw-Ted, Great Dude".

• Panic spreads as toilet facilities take over the world; "Cry! Stall-Age."

• A man orders a book of basic letters to look after his daughters belongings while he looks after the others; "ABC, Watch Her's!".

• Sams brother cheats a dude; "Dean Cons the Peep."

• A ride in the amusement park offers a wide range of emotions; "High! Low! Woo! Nah."

• A weird and hard to describe new dessert; "Cold Lemon Thing."

• A new star in stand up rises! Come see "Puntiff Sulyvahn."

• Pirates start eating fava beans and a new drink is required; "Yo! Ho! The Chianti!."

• A Long lived man has an unusual apetite for fish; "Old-Rick, Devourer of Cods".

• In Bacteria-Town, a devastating disease strikes one inhabitant working at a hotel; "Cancer of the Borrelia Valet".

• Roman god Cubid is ordered to take a woman to cave and kill her; "Drag and Slay Her Amor"

• Osiris's statue has been in way too many marriages and people have started to call it; "Osiris the Consummated Thing."

• The choir leader from before is transformed into a mushroom; "Champignon Cantor"

• An english man becomes the leader of a Polish airplane company and gets nicknamed; "LOT-Rick"

• An impatient tree person attacks a random mythical hunter; "Antsy Ent! Why Hern?!"

• Horse named Elvis keeps making noise and a man shouts;"Neigh Less King!"

• A child opens a chocolate egg and a white spirit jumps out; "Soul of Kinder"

Sorry about the possible typos.

I just came back from a holiday back to the UK to visit friends and family (am an expat).

While we were there we went to a nice community festival, with some great beers. An American friend of a friend proudly proclaimed that he’d bought a pint of red stout.

Looking up at the board, and seeing the name of the beer, my eyes lit up: a golden opportunity had just presented itself.

‘Nah mate, that’s not red stout, it’s called Red Stoat. You do know what a stoat is, right?

[confusion]

‘Well, it’s a little rodent, a bit like a weasel. You know how you can tell the difference between a stoat and a weasel?’

‘Er..’

‘Well’, I says, ‘a weasel is weasily identifiable, and a stoat is stoatally different.’

Cue a puzzled look on the guys face, and a moment’s silence, broken by me and my friend pissing ourselves laughing, not at the joke of course, but at his reaction.

So this was all very well and good, just another in the litany of bad jokes that floats in my wake, and I thought the story ended there.

Karma, however, had other plans…

A few days later, we’re up in the Lake District, walking back to the hotel after a pub dinner. As we’re walking down the road, we see a small carnivorous rodent dragging the recently deceased body of a rabbit back to its home. It was either a stoat, or a weasel, but you know what? I honestly had no way to tell which…

Its name was cigarette and every day we'd take it for a drag.