Fitness First Puns

Use this nursery rhyme to play "scary/gross monster" with your tyke:

"The itsy bitsy spider climbed into Mia's mouth
Down to her ears and crawling in and out!
Out through her nose and tickled with her legs,
She made Mia sneeze her brains to scrambled eggs!

achoo splat bleah"

Substitute $name for Mia.

Spider hand chases while Dad reclines on bed. Tyke busily baits and counterattacks.

I dunno whether this qualifies as a Dad joke, but my wife hated it until she saw how much my daughter liked it. I feel like that fits the spirit of Dadness. For maximum results, send your wife the poem first.

WORKING ON A JOB

My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned I just couldn’t concentrate. . Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the axe. . After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn’t suited for it. The job was only so-so anyhow. . Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was exhausting. . I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn’t cut it. . I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard. . My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn’t note worthy. . I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn’t have any patience. . Next was a job in a shoe factory; but it just wasn’t the right fit. . I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn’t live on my net income. . I thought about becoming a witch, so I tried that for a spell. . I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining. . After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian, until I realized there was no future in it. . My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit, because it was always the same old grind.

Gf: I'm just going to run into town and stuff. Me: make sure you stretch! Gf: ಠ_ಠ

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

A pirate walks into bar and sits down. The bartender notices that he has a peg leg, a hook for a hand, and a patch over one eye. The pirate orders a beer, and while he's pouring it the bartender asks "So what's the story with the leg?" "Well it were many a year ago," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard, and a shark swum up and bit me leg clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a peg leg that very night." "That's terrible," says the bartender. "What about the hand?" "Well it were the very next day," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard again, and a whale came up and bit me hand clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a hook that very night." "Wow," says the bartender. "So what about the eye?" "Well it were the very next day," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship, and I were lookin out fer rogue waves, and a seagull flew over and shit right in me eye!" "Oh man," says the bartender. "And that blinded you?" "Well no," says the pirate. "But it were me first day with the hook."

Old joke. Maybe fits here. First post. Thanks

How do two programmers make money? One writes viruses, the other anti-viruses.

Where’s the best place to hide a body? Page two of Google.

A computer lets you make more mistakes faster than any invention in human history – with the possible exceptions of handguns and tequila.

If it weren’t for C, we’d all be programming in BASI and OBOL.

There are 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don’t.

In a world without fences and walls, who needs Gates and Windows?

Programming today is a race between software engineers striving to build bigger and better idiot-proof programs, and the Universe trying to produce bigger and better idiots. So far, the Universe is winning.

Computers make very fast, very accurate mistakes.

Never underestimate the bandwidth of a station wagon full of tapes hurling down the highway.

An SQL statement walks into a bar and sees two tables. It approaches, and asks “may I join you?”

Why is it that programmers always confuse Halloween with Christmas?

Because 31 OCT = 25 DEC.

Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft… and the only one that can be mass produced with unskilled labor.

How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb? None. It’s a hardware problem.

I named my hard drive “dat ass” so once a month my computer asks if I want to ‘back dat ass up’.

I think my neighbor is stalking me as she’s been googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night.

I changed my password to “incorrect”. So whenever I forget what it is the computer will say “Your password is incorrect”.

A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing.

It’s ok computer, I go to sleep after 20 minutes of inactivity too.

Entered what I ate today into my new fitness app and it just sent an ambulance to my house.

A clean house is the sign of a broken computer.

Wifi went down during family dinner tonight. One kid started talking and I didn’t know who he was.

I would like to thank everybody that stuck by my side for those five long minutes my house didn’t have internet.

A TV can insult your intelligence, but nothing rubs it in like a computer.

Are you a computer whiz? it seems you know how to turn my software to hardwar

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.

The warden saw that deep down, Andy was a good person and made arrangements for Andy to learn a trade while doing his time.

After three years, Andy was recognized as one of the best carpenters in the local area.

Often he would be given a weekend pass to do odd jobs for the citizens of the community and he always reported back to prison before Sunday night was over.

The warden was thinking of remodeling his kitchen and in fact had done much of the work himself.

But he lacked the skills to build a set of kitchen cupboards and a large counter top, which he had promised his wife.

So he called Andy into his office and asked him to complete the job for him.

But, alas, Andy refused.

He told the warden, "Gosh, I'd really like to help you but counter fitting is what got me into prison in the first place."

A trio of explorers were hiking through the Congo and found a small village that was very isolated and not on any map. The villagers turned out to speak English very well, and informed the adventurers very politely that theirs was a village of cannibals and they were to be cooked and eaten, and their hides tanned and turned into canoes for the villagers, but they would allow them to take their own life however they saw fit.

The first man asks for a sharp knife, slices his wrists open, and mutters "Lay me down and bleed a while, and ne'er up again."

The second man asks for his revolver, says "For God and Country!" and shoots himself in the head.

The last man asks for a fork, and stabs himself repeatedly screaming "Fuck your canoe!"

One of the funniest school puns; science puns

Did you hear oxygen went on a date with potassium? It went OK. If the Silver Surfer and Iron Man team up, they’d be alloys.

The optimist sees the glass half full. The pessimist sees the glass half empty. The chemist sees the glass completely full, half with liquid and half with air.

If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.

A photon checks into a hotel and is asked if he needs any help with his luggage. He says, “No, I’m traveling light.”

Did you just mutate for a stop codon? Because you’re talking nonsense!

How did the English major define microtome on his biology exam? An itsy bitsy book.

What did Gregor Mendel say when he founded genetics? Woopea!

Did you hear about the man who got cooled to absolute zero? He’s 0K now.

I wish I was adenine, then, I could get paired with U.

Anyone know any jokes about sodium? Na

Two chemists go into a bar. The first one says “I think I’ll have an H2O.” The second one says “I think I’ll have an H2O too” — and he died.

A couple of biologists had twins. They named one Jessica and the other Control.

Did you hear the one about the recycling triplets? Their names are Polly, Ethel, and Ian.

Why can you never trust atoms? They make up everything!

What element is a girl’s future best friend? Carbon.

I had to make these bad chemistry jokes because all the good ones Argon.

Why are chemists great for solving problems? They have all the solutions.

What do chemists call a benzene ring with iron atoms replacing the carbon atoms? A ferrous wheel.

What did the male stamen say to the female pistil? I like your “style.”

I’m reading a great book on anti-gravity. I can’t put it down.

I have a new theory on inertia but it doesn’t seem to be gaining momentum.

Why can’t atheists solve exponential equations? Because they don’t believe in higher powers.

Schrodinger’s cat walks into a bar. And doesn’t.

Do you know the name Pavlov? It rings a bell.

What does a subatomic duck say? Quark!

A neutron walks into a bar and asks how much for a beer. Bartender replies “For you, no charge”.

Two atoms are walking along. One of them says: “Oh, no, I think I lost an electron.” “Are you sure?”

“Ye

When I worked for a design agency, I had two adamant higher-ups. There was a brand identity project for a new company, and I was in charge of typography, but those two disagreed with my choice of font.

The first one was this stony-looking Peruvian-American man named Esteban Ferrero, but since that's Spanish for Steven Smith, and our company had a rule that everyone has to call each other using nicknames instead of last names, everyone, including himself, just called him Steve. The second one was a Dutch woman with a sharp glare named Evelien van der Berg. She was famous for giving designers a hard time convincing her that their design choices work better than hers. In accordance with the company rules, we called her Eve.

Anyway, I showed Steve my first draft, and he wasn't convinced that I chose LinoLetter as the main font, and told me that I should use a sans-serif font. But I stood by my position that serifs add legibility to printed and digital material, that it fits the company's identity as an organic store, and that it is hard to stand out with a sans-serif. It took a lot of debate, but in the end, Steve was convinced that LinoLetter was acceptable.

A few days later, I showed Eve a more elaborated version, as for the sizes and styles of the font, and the pairing of LinoLetter with Century as the headline font. She insisted that I should have used a sans-serif font for the headline. I expressed my view that LinoLetter is a font with composed and legible shape, and Century, while it is also legible, has flair at larger sizes. She kept disagreeing with me, saying I should use something bolder and more contrasting, like Tungsten. It felt like hours had passed before the conversation went anywhere, so I had to give up and look for a sans-serif font that goes with LinoLetter.

So it goes to show that the one who gave me a hard time was adamant Eve, not adamant Steve.

When I was a kid, any time my dad saw me picking my nose, he would say:

"Hey, is that a diamond in your nose?"

Me: "What? No."

Him: "Oh IT'SNOT?? ***IT'S SNOT???***"

After the first couple times, I stopped responding. The worst part is that he eventually stopped caring whether I humored him or not and would just jump right into the punchline.

"Is that a diamond in your nose? OH, IT'S SNOT??" And then he would just laugh hysterically, and say it again while he was recovering from his laughing fit. "IT'S SNOT?!?!?" He'd probably say it 5 or 6 times while increasingly losing his shit each time until his words were just incoherent. I used to think he was laughing at the joke itself, but now I'm pretty sure that the more straight/annoyed my face was, the funnier the whole bit was for him, which explains why he would laugh harder and harder as he went on with it. Then he'd finish with one of those high pitched 'laugh-ending' sighs and wipe his eyes. God it was obnoxious.

I can't wait until I'm a dad and I get to use it.

There was a boy in high school named Bonnie. As you can imagine, he was bullied and picked on because of his strange name. This lead to social anxiety and a few other issues, but there was one girl who helped him through all of his pain. He had a huge crush on this girl, and after weeks of psyching himself up, he asked her to the school dance coming up.

Much to his delight, he said yes, and off to the dance they went. They had a great time and shortly after, started dating. They spent a lot of time together, calling, texting and always hanging out. They were meant for each other. They continued dating after high school, into college. On their graduation day, he proposed to her on the stage. He was nervous about asking her in public like this, but as he got down on one knee, her face lit up, tears formed in her eyes. He asked her to marry him, she said yes and the crowd cheered.

Fast forward a few years, they've bought their own house, and she's now pregnant with their first child. In the delivery room, Bonnie is standing by her side, their newborn child in her arms.

"I love you so much, hon." Bonnie told his wife, holding one of her hands. "You can name our baby girl anything you wise." he told her.

"Love. I want to name her Love." she replied, looking into his eyes. Bonnie was surprised by the strange name, and at first hesitant to agree, but he told her she could name their daughter anything. He nods in agreement and they carry on with their lives.

Fourteen years later, as with what happened with Bonnie, Love was picked on in high school for her strange name. One day, Love came home crying.

"What's wrong, Love?" Bonnie asked her worriedly.

"I hate you! Why did you give me such a stupid name?!" she screamed at him. She was furious. She was tired of the teasing and the mockery in high school. In a fit of rage, she pulled out Bonnie's handgun she had found in his night stand. She pulled the trigger and a bullet passed into Bonnie's chest.

Love panicked and ran away, and Bonnie's wife came after hearing the gun shot. She ran to Bonnie's side, picking his head up in her hands. She asked him what had happened.

"Shot through the heart... And you're to blame..." He said, weakly. "You gave Love... A bad name."

Having a coffin fit.

Heard it from a teacher first, an oldie but a goodie.

So there is this one engineer at work who always makes the kind of jokes that make you kind of groan afterwards. For instance, a little bit ago, I was trying to get into a set of drawers where we keep supplies and I say, "Excuse me, can I get in there real quick?" And he says, "But.... I don't think you'll fit!" Ba-dum-chuck! Today, I heard him come up to the receptionist to ask where a coworker went. She says, "I think he went through that door," and he's like, "Oh man! I hope he OPENED it first!"

First find a frozen lake. Cut a hole in the ice large enough for a polar bear to fit in it. Take early peas and place them around the hole roughly 2 inches apart. Go hide. When a polar bear goes to take a pea... run up and kick him in the ice-hole!

Well, I'm so glad it turns out there is a subreddit to put all of my dad's corny jokes... I have one of my pop's favorites for ya today, anyway here it goes:

A man is waiting for his wife to have a baby (you can tell this is an old joke) and since this is his first child he is extremely nervous. After some time a doctor comes out of this wife's room and says "Mr. So and So, there's been a complication... your baby boy has no arms." The man is shocked, and after a bit of a fit says "It's okay, it's okay I'll still love him like a normal boy."

After another hours wait the doctor comes back to the man saying "Mr. So and so... there's been another complication... your baby has no legs." Again, the man is shocked, but he says "It's okay, it's okay I'll still love him like any other normal boy!"

After a two hours wait the doctor again comes to the man and says "Sir, another complication... your child has no torso..." The man throws another fit, but eventually says "It's okay, I'll still love him no matter what!"

Finally, at the end of the day the doctor comes back to the man and says "Mr. So and So, your child has no body at all... in fact your child is just a giant eyeball..." The man flips out and screams "Could it get any worse!?"

"He's blind."

Two men die and go to heaven. The first man walks up to the pearly gates, and St. Peter says, "In order to get into heaven, you must have had a manly job on Earth. What was your job?"

The first man says, "I was a diesel fitter."

St. Peter looks confused, but says, "I don't know what that is, but it definitely sounds manly. You can go in."

As the first man walks through the gates, the second steps up to St. Peter. He again says, "In order to get into heaven, you must have had a manly job on Earth. What was your job?"

The second man says, "I worked at the department store in the women's underwear department."

St. Peter says, "Well, that's definitely not manly. I don't think I can let you in."

The man gets very upset and says, "What about that guy you just let in?"

St. Peter says, "He was a diesel fitter!"

The man says, "I know! We worked in the same department! I would sew up the underwear, and he would put them on his head and yell 'DEEZ 'LL FIT HER!'"

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."