A list of puns related to "Fast Records"
Save them to your Phone and always have witty jokes at the palm of your hand.
3.14 percent of sailors are pi-rates.
5/4 of people admit they’re bad at fractions.
A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.
A brain walks into a bar and takes a seat. “I’d like some wings and a pint of beer, please,” it says. “Sorry, but I can’t serve you,” the bartender replies. “You’re out of your head.”
A cheeseburger walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Sorry, we don't serve food here.'
A college education now costs $100,000, but it produces three very proud people: the student, his mama, and his pauper.
A couple of cups of yogurt walk into a country club. “We don’t serve your kind here,” the bartender says. “Why not?” one yogurt asks. “We’re cultured.”
A friend of mine didn’t pay his exorcist. He got repossessed.
A friend of mine is known for sweeping girls off their feet. He’s an extremely aggressive janitor.
A guy walks into a bar, and there’s a horse serving drinks. The horse asks, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a horse tending bar before?” The guy says, “It’s not that. I just never thought the parrot would sell the place.”
A guy walks into a bar...and he was disqualified from the limbo contest.
A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head. The bartender says, “What’s with the paper towel?” The pirate says, “Arrr! I’ve got a Bounty on me head!”
A turtle is crossing the road when he’s mugged by two snails. When the police ask him what happened, the shaken turtle replies, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”
Armed robbers—some say they’re a drain on society, but you’ve got to give it to them.
Barbers…you have to take your hat off to them.
Can February March? No, but April May!
Cooking out this weekend? Don’t forget the pickle. It’s kind of a big dill.
Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don't think they'll fit me.
Dad, can you put the cat out? I didn't know it was on fire.
Dad, did you get a haircut? No, I got them all cut!
Dad: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? Son: No. What happened? Dad: The teacher woke him up.
Daughter: I have a lot of friends named Nathan. There’s Nathan Miller, Nathan Radcliff, Nathan Lewis… Me: When they are together, do you call them the United Nathans?
Dear Math, grow up and solve your own problems.
Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head!
Did you hear about the aquatic sea mammals that escape
... keep reading on reddit ➡there’s three main candidates in the running. first is joe biden, looking to keep the presidency; second is donald trump, looking to take back the presidency, and lastly is obama, wearing a sombrero and a mustache, going by the name… juan-bama. as the election results are tallied in, it’s apparent that it’s a perfect three-way tie in both the popular vote and the electoral college. the nation is in uproar, nobody can reach a decision as to how to choose the next president. but at last a solution comes forward: a literal presidential race. whoever can run the fastest lap around the white house—timed by a secret service member—will be sworn into office.
first up is donald trump. he boldly states “this will no doubt be the fastest lap around the white house, perhaps even the fastest lap run anywhere, ever,” but, not being in the best shape, he takes 18 minutes and 34 seconds.
next is joe biden. he doesn’t waste any breath for trash talk or boasting, he just readies himself at the starting line and—at the count—takes off. he’s running fast, really fast for someone of his age… at least for the first 5 minutes. but he forgets where he’s going, and finishes his lap as a leisurely walk around the grounds, taking 26 minutes and 49 seconds.
lastly is juanbama, who runs like hell around the white house. he’s running fast, faster than he’d ever run before. he completes his lap, collapsing across the finish line, and looks up desperately at the secret service member. “what was it?” he asks. “what was my time?”
the agent looks down at their stopwatch. “twelve oh-three.”
juanbama looks at them in disbelief. “well,” he sputters, “that’s got to be some sort of record!”
the secret service member shakes their head. “no, actually. bush did nine eleven.”
Got outside and she ran 100m in 9.72 seconds
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?”
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