$129.95 at JC Penny Portrait and Framing Studio
Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner are already spoken for, but Thanksgiving hasn't been discussed yet. Thanksgiving is usually at my father-in-law's, but my stepmother-in-law has previously hinted that she might not want to host anymore.
Wife: "I talked to [stepmother-in-law] today, and she didn't say 'boo' about Thanksgiving."
Me: "Did she say 'gobble gobble'?"
He then explained "to Damme with faint praise"
My parents, girlfriend and I were walking around exploring one of the neighbouring islands when we saw a sign that said "youth recreational grounds" on it, but was just a field full of goats.
My dad exclaims "pretty sure these aren't the youths that the council had in mind"
And I retort "either way, I hear it's a great place to bring your kids"
...Cue groans
"You're going to use up all the film taking so many pictures!"
What a great way to ruin my appetite!
I'm the bomb
While on holiday in Venice myself and my family were walking through Venice and turned to walk down an empty street that had 2 water wells around 30 yards apart along this street.
Well... Well... what do we have here.
Nothing! not even a chuckle from the family.
My mom told us she wants to drink some coffee with my dad. My dad said he prefers coffee with milk. The groan was very loud.
I (old, fat bloke) am on holidays in Bali, Indonesia. I walked to the shopping center food hall and so am drenched in sweat. Young kid from family beside me (practicing her English) says "you are hot!". I said, "thank you, I work out" and flexed a bit. Embarrassed silence for 10 seconds, until teenage sister says (in local language) "Oh, Blah Blah.. (I assume it was an explanation)... Blah, DAD JOKE". All the kids let out groans and roll their eyes. I then did my best international dad laugh.
Preface: we spent a lovely family holiday in Greece, with our oldest being a picky eater who hates certain textures like melted cheese, cooked eggplant or seafood - so you see how she would be royally screwed in Greece. She ultimately only ordered Spaghetti Bolognese the entire week whenever we dined out.
Back at home, a week passes and I ask the kids what they want for dinner, she immediately asks for spagbol. Husband hears it and nods sagely:
“Such an ever-greek.”
So My roomate invited me to his family Thanksgiving/holiday party yesterday. After dessert we're all sitting around and the children present are being rowdy. My roomate's brother calls them all over to our table and insists on showing them how to make a duck call. He begins ripping apart an empty soda can and wrapping it up in a very complicated fashion with a napkin and a plastic fork. He meticulously takes the top off, makes strips of metal, and winds them into this plastic fork. He carries on like this for about five minutes, the children utterly transfixed, sit watching until his creation is finally "complete". He then holds it up to his mouth, inhales, and shouts: "HERE DUCKY DUCKY DUCKY!!!"
So it was my first time meeting my girlfriend's family and it was a holiday so I had assumed it would go like how it is in the movies, the guy being constantly criticized by the girl's family and told he's not good enough but I must have lucked out as they absolutely loved me, after we had the traditional thanksgiving meal at around 4, her family and I went to the porch to drink and joke around. On the way out to the porch, buzzed me thought it would be hilarious to take someone's ukelele with me and hide it on the porch, I promised myself that before the day is over, I'd use that ukelele as a joke piece and get everyone to love me even more. So the evening is going great, everyone's drunk, laughing, telling funny family stories when all of a sudden, I stand up, get everyone's attention and I grab the ukelele, picked it up and said
"I like to play a little guitar"
The hysterical, drunken laughs of everyone on the porch was the highlight of the best Thanksgiving I've ever had.
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.
MahKneeeee
This had my family shaking their head and groaning all through the holidays. It's more of a verbal joke I admit.
Back in the late 80's, my dad had a joke he loved to tell everyone he met. It went something like this:
I was driving down the road and ended up behind this ambulance with its rear door open. I tried honking and flashing my lights to get their attention about it, but they didn't seem to notice. As they turned the corner away from us, a small cooler fell out. I pulled over to rescue the cooler, and when I opened it, I found a human toe, on ice.
At this point, the victim of the joke is supposed to ask what he did with the toe. He responds with "I called the Tow Truck!" and hearty laughter.
Being the 1980's, e-mail wasn't prevalent, and calling long distance could get expensive, so he communicated with his out of state family primarily through mailed letters. He wrote this joke (sans punchline) in a letter to his mom. Not knowing it was a joke, she told the story to her friends and family. My aunt heard this story, and told it to her classes (she's a teacher) and one of her students actually got in a fight with his mom who said that could never happen.
A month or two later, we were getting together for a holiday and the toe story came up in conversation. My dad replied that he called the tow truck, and his laughter was met with horrified stares. By this time, nearly everyone in the small town was enthralled with this amazing story that my grandma had told about her son who lived in the city. She was imagining all of the people she had to contact to tell the real story to. Many took it in stride, but others were quite annoyed. Especially my aunt, who had to apologize to every one of her classes at school.
TLDR: A dad joke with no punch line doesn't belong in a letter.
Relevant info: my mom is Christian, my dad is Jewish.
My dad loves to silently craft his dad jokes until the morning of any Christian holiday. He did not disappoint today.
Dad: I've been really popular on Facebook this morning. Me: Oh yeah? Dad: All of my friends have been commenting on my sleep patterns. [longish pause while he gets this gleeful-boyish look because of the confusion he can see on my face) Dad: They keep posting about how "He has risen!"
He's saying this to every member of our family, one-by-one, as we wake up.
New Year's Day... The start of a fresh 365 sunrises that symbolize a turning point in lifestyle and spending the entire day recovering from a dreadful hangover. Like many other people in America, this relatively fake holiday is a time that I spend with my family. One of my family's many traditions (alongside annihilating plates of buffalo wings and watching college football until we pass out on the couch) is watching the Rose Parade. At the very beginning of the event, before all of the flower-covered floats and high school bands came marching down the street, there was an introductory ceremony complete with a B-2 stealth bomber flyover. As soon as they passed by, zooming out of the camera's frame, my dad leans in closer to me and says "Well I sure didn't see that coming!"
Over the holidays, my whole family got together. We all decided to go to a movie, and everyone was suggesting different movies to see. My cousin said that she wanted to see Frozen. I said, "Oh yeah, I want to see Frozen, too".
My dad responded with, "Did they make a sequel already?"
Me and my family are shopping in France, coming to the end of our holiday and I decide to try and spend all my coins as I won't need them back in the UK. I go and get a whole array of items
Dad: Why have you got all them?
Me: Oh, I'm just trying to use all my coins
Dad: Glad to see you've got the cents to do that
Groans followed
The guy I'm dating's last name is Feliz.
Over the holidays at his family's New Years party his little brother asked his girlfriend to marry him. Her response? Yes! It would make me happy.
Feliz is Spanish for happy. He is literally making her happy. I was rolling. I think everyone else may have heard variations of the joke too many times cause all they did was groan but I definitely think she's a honorary dad.
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…
When I was on holiday with my family in England, as we pulled into Bakewell, my dad, as he always would do, turned around and gave us some background on the town we had just entered.
"Welcome to Bakewell, famous for it's tarts, there's two of them there! Hello girls!"
I just got back in town for the holidays and my family was taking my grandmother to her birthday party. As we were getting in the car my dad asks my grandma, who was in the back seat directly behind him, if she had enough leg room.
Grandma: "Oh, I've got more than enough room. There's a foot between us!"
Me: "That's strange, I'm pretty sure there should be two feet between you..."
