Extra Foods Puns

I'd hate for him to fall asleep at the wheel.

Spag-E.T.

He's a pretty Krafty guy.

You dim sum, you lose some.

...I'm Nan-plussed

Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.

To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.

I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.

Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.

You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.

The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.

The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.

Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.

Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.

But so far, I've quit cold turkey.

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/615gh8/in_a_serious_food_fight_a_food_fight_to_the_death/dfc7q3q/

Answer - Extra Sharp Cheddar

My mom and I were in our living room watching TV. My dad was in the kitchen by himself. Suddenly we hear a yell from the kitchen and go running in to see my dad with a bloody paper towel around his finger...

Me: What happened!?

Dad: I cut my finger!

Mom: How!?

Dad: I wanted some cheese and crackers so I reached into the cheese drawer and I cut my hand.

Me: How did the cheese drawer cut your hand?

Dad: It didn't. I sliced it on the block of extra sharp cheddar!

Dad bursts out laughing

He then removed the paper towel to reveal his unharmed finger. He had dyed the paper towel with food coloring.

I was packaging up the pho I made tonight and realized just how much extra I had.

After the third large container was filled, I boasted to my SO, "we have food pho the week!"

My SO just shook his head.

Went and got some food yesterday and happened to have a coupon for a free extra value meal, but the cashier needed a manager's code. It took like 3 or 4 minutes for her to come up. After she typed in the code she apologized, explaining that she was in the walk-in freezer.

As she walked away I raised my voice loud enough so she could hear me and said, "Thanks for doing that, you seem really cool."

She actually turned around and gave me a little scowly smile like, "that's not funny wait why am I smiling."

A woman was at her hairdresser's getting her hair styled for a trip
to Rome with her husband..

She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded: " Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It's crowded and dirty.
You're crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?"

"We're taking Continental," was the reply. "We got a great rate!"

"Continental?" exclaimed the hairdresser. "That's a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they're always late.
So, where are you staying in Rome?"

"We'll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome's Tiber River called Teste."

"Don't go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it's going to be something special and exclusive, but it's really a dump."

"We're going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope."

"That's rich," laughed the hairdresser. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You're going to need it."

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo.
The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

"It was wonderful," explained the woman, "not only were we on time in one of Continental's brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful,
and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot..
And the hotel was great! They'd just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it's a jewel, the finest hotel in the city.
They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner's suite at no extra charge!"

"Well," muttered the hairdresser, "that's all well and good, but I know you didn't get to see the Pope."

"Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.
Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me."

"Oh, really! What'd he say?"

scroll down.....

He said: "Who fucked up your hair?"

We ordered for our food and we asked for extra plates for our two kids. The waitress leaves and comes back with four little plates and sets them down on the table. In the most enthusiastic voice, my husband gives a thumbs up and says "Thanks! These look delicious!"

Everytime my dad has to go to a fast food place like McDonald's or KFC and he gets to the window to pick up his food he acts all confused and says

"I didn't order this? Where's my extra large pizza with everything on it?"

They either laugh or just stare for a minute