Give Notice Puns

I was checking out a chequered Czech check-out chick who was checking out some chicken at the checkout.

Dissatisfied with the style of life that he found there, The Monk decides to move into a suburban neighborhood and start up his own line of work. Being trained in the peaceful ways he gets on very well with his neighbours who eventually notice that he has a very strange profession. Despite being very strong and very philosophical The Monk elects to repeatedly visit places with broken fences and remove and replace them.

One day has neighbour approaches him and asks, "with the physical strength and mental capacity that you seem to have, are you not interested in a more physically or mentally challenging job?"

To which The Monk replies, "but everybody knows reposting gives you the most karma."

And he comes up to me one day and says "Hey Undope! I have this new custard I've been working on, and I think it's my best one yet! Would you like to try it?" And with me being a custard connoisseur, I happily agree, so he takes his sample he has on hand and gives it to me.

I take a bite and take my time, slowly judging the textures and flavors I would expect from a well crafted custard. He becomes mortified as a noticeable wince appears on my face and I struggle a little bit to put down the bite I took.

"Oh my gosh!" he cries. "Do you think it's bad!?"

I shake my head no in response, attempting not to hurt my friend's feelings.

"It's not terrible," I reply. "It's just kinda off-putting."

In a village just outside Sherwood Forest lived Old Robinhood, he had lived a very exciting life with his band of merry men, and his cause of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and had a fantastic time doing it. He even had a sign outside his door that said, Robinhood, Bandit - but somehow the law never seemed to have noticed and he had lived in plain sight, doing good deeds, giving away money anonymously and living for the cause.

But now age had started to catch up and not being as nimble as he once was close escapes had started to get uncomfortably close. So he decided to retire and hand over the leadership of his band to his son.

So, Robin called his son over to him and said, ‘Son, I want you to take over from me as leader of the merry men. Steal and pillage all you want, but never forget the cause - we only take from the rich to give to the poor’.

‘Father, I will do as you say’ said Robin’s son whose name was Robinson, ‘but tell me one thing, why do you stay anonymous when giving money away?

Why not let people know of your good deeds - you have a sign outside that says bandit and you’ve never been caught, why not add the cause to the sign and say ‘Robinhood, Bandit, steals from the rich to give to the poor’?

‘Fool, screamed Robin, if you put the cause over the sign then you will get caught’

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.

My stepfather and mother have been doing some remodeling in their first house to get it ready to put on the market, so they are fixing up some things, and I was giving them a hand. As we were working we had the radio playing.

My mother notices a light switch on the wall in the bedroom that isn't working quite right. She says, "Honey I think there's something wrong with the light switch."

To which my stepfather replies, "What's wrong with it?"

My mother says, "It's making a weird noise. I think it's humming. Why is the light switch humming?"

My stepfather says, "That's probably because it doesn't know the words."

My dad is really proud of this one. It's the only joke he's ever told that's been funny enough to make somebody laugh so hard that they spit out of their nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for this joke, so let me give you some context first:

He's been in a motorcycle accident (hit and run by an illegal immigrant), and had to have most of his vertebrae fused. They use titanium rods to hold your back from bending, so as you can imagine its kind of a major operation. His doctor prescribed a year (or longer if needed) of massage therapy, which he was thankful for. Twice a week he went in to a small clinic for a few hours at a time, and usually had the same masseuse. Let's call her Marge.

After four months of therapy they of course got to know each other very well. He was always faithful to my mother, but he was good friends with Marge. Their conversations range all the way from baseball to differentials, and everything stays platonic.

Here's where the story begins:

During a massage, they are having an energetic conversation, the time comes where he turns onto his back so that she can get to his knee ligaments (chainsawed his kneecap a few years prior, doc said may as well get there too). She goes at it like normal, and the conversation continues. Now here comes the part that made my dad wait to tell me this until recently: The "stimulation" in his knee for some reason, on that day out of all others, triggered a reflexive erection. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

The conversation goes quiet. Marge notices, but doesn't say a word. She remains professional. She continues working. My dad is more embarrassed than he's ever been. Several minutes of silence pass, and my dad cant take it anymore.

"Marge," he says, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

He raises his head to look down the table at her. He glances at it, then back to her. With a slight shake of his head he says:

"Wait nevermind, it's only his trunk"

A cricket, and a tick.

He decides to start with the larger one, the cricket, and proceeds to put it under a microscope and carefully rip the dead insect apart writing down the results. Nothing unusual.

Moving on, he goes back to the delivery petri dish and notices the tick is missing.

He searches around for some time but the bugger is nowhere to be seen. Just before giving up he notices it crawling on his hand. Before the tick can bite him, he expertly grabs it and throws it under the microscope.

He turns it to the highest magnification and says to himself: "Let's see what makes you tick."

I cut my finger open and didn't notice it.

Dad: "Hey, you cut your finger pretty bad there."

Me: "I did? Didn't notice. I lost feeling in that one a few years ago when I cut it open at the base."

Dad: "I lost sensation in my thumb after I did the same thing, so I know the feeling... Or do I?"

Driving to the store.

Me: "The tires feel kind of flat. Should probably stop at a gas station and increase the pressure."

Dad: "We have to be careful, though. Too much pressure and they'll get nervous."

Going to the Cheesecake Factory.

Me: "We have to take the bridge, right?"

Dad: "Yeah, but we're gonna have to give it back afterwards."

Goddammit, dad.

Because he only had to give two monks notice.

I was helping my daughter pack her car today, getting ready to leave tomorrow morning. She had a set of plastic stacking drawers wedged into her car, but in getting it there, it had come apart some, so we had to take it out to tape it together better. There was a black plastic bag leaning against it, and in all the wriggling, the drawers tore a small hole in the plastic bag. After taping the drawers, I noticed a small piece of the black plastic stuck to the drawers. I took it off and tried to give it to my daughter, saying, "Here's your hole," but of course she didn't want it, so I put it (you see this coming already, don't you?) in my pocket, and said, "Now I have a hole in my pocket." Her eye-roll was hilarious.

(Does anyone else remember a similar bit from the "Yellow Submarine" movie?)

Yesterday, I was running back from the school bus after asking the driver to give me a moment because my disabled son had had an accident and I was about finished cleaning him up. It was raining and muddy and I was in my bare feet, but this is the norm out here.

On the way back I managed to get my big toenail ripped up off the nailbed down to about halfway to the cuticle. Never done that before in 31 years, and oh my, I have to say it was a whole different level of exquisite agony when I finally noticed it. Funny how you never notice things like that until you see all the blood and how it doesn't even hurt until you touch it.

Sparing you the details of tracking in blood for five minutes before I even noticed I'd done it, the husband cringed quite a bit when he got home from work and saw it.

Fast forward to today--my period started and I had one hell of a headache all day long. He gets home from work and asks, "you ok, babe?" Because I'm usually pretty cheerful when he walks in the door, but today I was cranky as fuck.

"Eh, period started. Headache. Glad you're home, I can take a pain pill and you can watch the kids."

"Oh." He looked me up and down slowly and grinned. "So... now you're hurting from head... to toe?"

Motherfucker.

The kids were probably around 8-12 years old. They all go the sweet aisle and start looking at the chocolate etc. The father picks up a bag of M&Ms and says to his kids:

"Hey, want some Slim Shadys?"
They give him a funny look. He looks again and notices that they're 2 for £1.
"50 Cent for some Eminems? That's Ludacris!"
Cue another look from the kids.
"I'll pay for them though, it's no Biggie."

I'll admit, I chuckled.

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

I'm moving out of my dorm room this morning to go home for the summer, and my dad is up to give me a hand. There's an elevator that we're taking so I don't have to take my cart down the stairs, and we're packed in with five or six other people. One of them looks at the wall of the elevator and notices that somebody has written "Hannah" on it, and says "What was Hannah doing in here?"

Me: "Writing on the wall, from the looks of things."

Other person: "Well, can't argue with that."

My dad: "So you're saying you can see the Hannah writing on the wall?"

All: groan

My dad saw me about to make some chicken noodle soup. Knowing I wasn't feeling well he offered to make it for me instead. I accepted his offer and sat down on the couch. Once it was done, my dad hands me a bowl of the hot soup and extends a spoon towards me. I look at the spoon but notice as I'm about to grab it, it's one of those strainer spoons, the big ones with the holes in it. I give him a dumbfounded look, and he proceeds to bust out laughing as he takes a normal spoon out from behind his back, hands it to me, and walks back to the kitchen chuckling to himself the whole way. Gotta love that guy.

I sent my girlfriend a picture of my ass at work today and she liked it so much she joked about going up to her boss about giving in her two weeks notice. I said that she should show her boss the picture and claim it was her "two cheeks notice". I'm really bad at telling jokes.

I replied "just giving them a taste, soon they'll be begging for us to HOOK them up"

After I said it, we both laughed for a few minutes and I knew I had to share it with you guys.

Thank you to the Disney employee that noticed my Reddit alien shirt last week and suggested r/dadjokes. I forgot how entertaining this group is :)

So in my calculus class last year in math, there were these two Chinese twins. Ving, and Ling. Ving was always super cool with me. In exchange for answers (he was super smart) I would hang out with him and be his friend and stuff. After I cheated off of him and studied with him though, I did get to be his friend and we got very close.

His sister, Ling, was always uptight about school and she made sure to study, she got stressed about a B, etc. One day I was hanging out with Ving, and we started talking about names. He went off on this huge rant about how he hated his, and how he wanted to change it to something more Asian-American, like Lee. I told him that the Courthouse downtown had a form that you could fill to legally change it. He told me: "I always give you answers. If you could just drive me down to the courthouse this one time, I will never forget you. I just hate this god-forsaken Chinese name and I want to get rid of it forever."

He seemed pretty adamant about it, so I decided the best decision would be to take him. We walked out to my car, and right as I put the keys in the ignition Ling came running and tapped on the car door like a madman. I rolled it down and she started freaking out about how Ving's name had been passed down through generations and generations, but Ving didn't care. He just wanted to go down to the Courthouse and get it over with.

Ling figured that coming with would be the best idea, so if anything else came up that she would be needed for, she would be there for Ving. Honestly, I felt stuck in the middle of a family feud, so I just took her along. When we got to the Courthouse, Ving confidently walked up to the front desk and asked the receptionist if he could change his name. She gave him a little packet of paper and told him to sit down. Ling and I waited patiently while Ving filled out his info. I was watching him fill it out and I noticed he really did want to change his name to Lee.

Before he finished, though, he started tearing up. He told me he couldn't change his name. He asked the lady at the front that he couldn't do it, and she told him he would need twenty dollars to cancel the request. Ling was so relieved and happy that he changed his mind, she dug through her purse, found the money, and started to hand it to the receptionist.

It was at this moment that the most stereotypical Asian man burst through the doors. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a visor, American flag shorts, flip flops, everything. This

Buying from a food truck, so I'd made sure to get cash in case it was cash-only. However, I noticed they had a square plugged into an iPad.

"For future reference, I guess you guys take cards?"

"Yeah, and we give them back, too!"

Really close family friend of ours told us this one that allegedly happened while he was on duty. I'm going to tell it from his perspective, as it reads the 'funniest'.

So I'm on duty and we have to go and put out a simple brush fire off to the side of a busy intersection. Since it's the dry season of Southern California literally the smallest spark can cause a giant fire you know, so we're trying to put it out pretty fast. So we arrive there and we notice that an ambulance is speeding down the road to this one pretty sharp bend, and you know, they're making haste since they're on a code 3. A code 3 is where both the siren and the lights are on at the same time and they obviously have something that they need to do. Anyways, they're speeding around this corner and one of the backdoors gets flung open and a cooler flies out and lands at the curb. By this point we've handled the fire and we're just assessing the damage, like where it's spread, stuff like that, so I go and retrieve the container and I open it and inside there's a human toe in there. I tell most of my crew and we decide that we'll get the toe back to the paramedics and then head back to the station. So we call the emergency services and we let them know that some EMT's have left a human body part and didn't come back to get it. They tell us, "we'll have someone come pick it up soon". We wait about 20 minutes and no one arrives and we're all a bit startled that no one's come back to come pick up a fucking human toe, so we call back and they give us the same thing. Half an hour goes by so I decide to call AAA and see if they can help us. Sure enough, AAA is able to help us and within 10 minutes they dispatch the help we need by sending us a toe truck.

Sorry, but I need to vent!! So I went to Target to get some clearance Halloween stuff. I noticed this lady was staring at me in the same aisle I was in. No biggie. I moved to the next aisle and here she comes. Again... STARING! So now I'm like, What is her problem?! I finish up my shopping and head to the check out line. Of course who is there ahead of me but this same lady. She turns around and starts staring again. So I start playing with my phone b/c I'm getting a little uncomfortable. Finally she says "I want to apologize for staring at you, but you look just like my son who just passed away." I felt really bad after that and gave her my condolences. She says "Thank you...but I have a favor to ask. I know it's weird and understand if you don't want to, but can you give me a hug and say 'Bye Mama' to me?" Inside I was like buuuuh?!??!, but understanding grief the way that I do, I went ahead and did it. She smiles, thanks me, and leaves. The cashier rings up my stuff and the total comes out to $100.87. I knew something wasn't right, because it should have been like $40 or so. The cashier then tells me that my total was included with my mom's. I'm like, "What?!!!" She said, "Your mom said you were paying for her last few items along with your things. I told her that the woman was most definitely NOT my mom. She said, well I saw you hug her and heard you call her mama. I'm like OMG...I flew out of the store looking for this horrible person, ready to drag her back in, I see her loading up her car! She saw me and jumped in her car, I got to her as she was putting her leg in, and I started pulling her leg hard enough that her wooden leg came off!! Omg how is this happening right now?! So I grabbed her other leg and started pulling! Just like I'm pulling yours right now!

My dad told me this the first time on Halloween night back when I was 9. He tells it to this day to any of my cousins, nephews, or any kids that happen to linger too long at the house when he's giving out candy. It's a long one but I have always enjoyed it.

Back when I was about your age, I went on a Halloween adventure. There was an old abandoned house on our street where a series of grisly axe murders had taken place years before. The house had never sold and was left vacant and was left to fall apart. There was a local legend that if you went into the house on Halloween night, you'd be confronted by the ghost of the murderer himself, still looking for more victims to add to his terrifying story.

My friend Tom and I decided to go through with it one year. Knowing everyone would be too terrified to go into the house, we snuck in easily on Halloween night. The place was falling apart inside, the carpet was wet and moldy and the wallpaper was peeling off everywhere. We headed down carefully to the basement down a set of creaky stairs.

At first we found nothing. Just an empty creepy old house. Suddenly we felt as if we were being watched. I was looking through one of the rooms in the large basement when I suddenly heard Tom shriek. I spun around and turned my flashlight and Tom was being chased by something, no someone. It looked like it was the murderer! A crazed man with an axe!

We turned and tried to run anywhere. We were in the basement but couldn't get up the stairs because we were blocked. We ran into the side room which looked like it might have been the laundry years ago. We locked the door and looked for a way out. The only thing we could find was a small window that opened onto ground level. As I climbed out I heard a pounding on the door. I managed to wriggle my way through the window and turned around to help my friend Tom. Panicking, he managed to get his top half through the window when I noticed the pounding stop.

Tom was stuck! I kept trying to pull him up but I couldn't. I pulled as hard as I could as Tom panicked and thrashed even more. I thought something had him caught, but it was even worse. The murderer had gotten behind him and was holding him back! He was too strong for me to overcome and he was pulling Tom's leg!

Just like I've been pulling yours this whole time.

My Grandma looked around my apartment and noticed my wife and I didn't have any pictures of them in our place. This is how the conversation went:

Grandma: "I'm going to give you guys a picture of us. So you don't forget what we look like. We're not going to live forever."

Grandpa: "Not me, I plan on living forever. I'll die trying."

I thought it would be perfect for here. We all got a little chuckle out of it! Thanks for reading!

My fiancee knocked on to the floor at a friends house, a single slice cake we had got from Smith's; comes packaged in a small, square plastic container, and was still in the container when it hit the carpet. I still proceeded to give her a hard time saying she did it on purpose, etc. As she reached over to pick it up she accidentally dipped her shirt on to the top of a caramel covered brownie she was eating. She sat back up and noticed the caramel circle covering the nipple of her shirt, and without second thought cries, "Aww man, caramel's a bitch."

My parents and I were playing Settlers of Catan today, and my dad, noticeably frustrated by the game, said, "Give me a break!"

Immediately, I get up from the table and write on a notecard "One Break" which I hand to him with the cheesiest grin in my face.

The the kitchen I work in, two of the cooks normally have the local Latino top 40 station on the radio. Last night, a bachata song was playing on the radio, when one of my coworkers asked one of the cooks, Omar, about it. I noticed he had a huge grin on his face. I knew something was up.

Coworker: "Hey Omar, what is this stuff on the radio?"

Omar: "It's bachata, te gustas? [do you like it?]"

Coworker: "Oh yeah guey, I love horchata."

Omar then gives my coworker the much needed groan, while I laugh my ass off.

So a couple guys and I went out to the local sandwich shop the other day, and when I get my sandwich there's some small but noticeable mold on the bread. I go back in to let them know about it and they make me another sandwich. I've got two sandwiches now and figure a bit of mold won't kill me. But it's a lot of food so I give half to my friend.

Then I say, "Hey, I just ate half my sandwich, and I've still got a whole one."

So my friend replies, "Well, I guess you can half your sandwich and eat it, too!"

Upon noticing that my sister picked out all of her vegetables in her chicken noodle soup, I asked her about her disgust for a certain pod fruit.

My dad leaned in and said "come on girl, give peas a chance!"

Yeah. A classic.

In the dining room during lunch after giving my elder residents desert which was Angel food cake, everyone noticed that the cake was very flat and thin.

One of the ladies said "This is no angel food cake, this is...."

Without missing a beat, this old man with a patch on his right eye interrupts the little old woman and says at the top of his lungs in a raspy, yet clear tone , "I'll tell you what this is!. It's a fallen angel!"

Everyone in the dining room laughed uncontrollably. Not him. He just shakes his head and digs into the cake.

I immediately thought of you guys.