Not screaming like the people in the back seat of his car.
Something
The Duke of Dance: If i don't stop soon, you're really gonna have a bone to pick with me.
The Duke of Dance: I need to stop being such a numbskull.
The Duke of Dance: help.
Sans: I gotta write these down.
The Duke of Dance: I don't have enough backbone to deal with my own shit
The Duke of Dance: but that's tibea expected.
Sans: I find this humerus.
The Duke of Dance: damn
The Duke of Dance: stole my next one.
The Duke of Dance: I'm not fibulaing you when i say, i'm running out of material. I'm really trying to think of more puns here, but i'm patellaing you, i'm out.
Sans: I don't even know this many bone names.
The Duke of Dance: My cranium is empty. i'm running bone-dry here.
The Duke of Dance: But you'r quite sternum in your wanting of these puns.
The Duke of Dance: don't worry, i'll stop temporalily. Not really tho.
The Duke of Dance: I'm taking these puns to the maxilla.
Sans: Can you make a pelvis pun?
The Duke of Dance: Not really. I can't think of any. So no hip hip hooray here.
Sans: That was alright.
The Duke of Dance: Are you having a femury time?
The Duke of Dance: I find myself sacruming to the need to make puns.
The Duke of Dance: helpican'tstop
Sans: I'm having a pun time.
The Duke of Dance: I'm gonna turbinate my puns, cuz i'm on my last leg-bones here.
The Duke of Dance: i'm getting desperate, you can tell.
The Duke of Dance: I didn't name a specific bone.
The Duke of Dance: Which is almost completely mandableitory.
The Duke of Dance: I have made more puns tonight than i have in a LONG time.
The Duke of Dance: Throw me a bone here, have i made enough skeleton puns?
Sans: There will never be enough skeleton puns. Mind makin' a list for me?
The Duke of Dance: Do
The Duke of Dance: Do you want me to write everything i just said down for you?
The Duke of Dance: I'm quivering at the thought of coming up with more skeleton puns.
Sans: I don't see any arrows.
Sans: Don't be a lazy bones, come up with more.
The Duke of Dance: I'll see you later, my vertebrah.
Sans: Have you any backbone?
The Duke of Dance: I already made that one.
The Duke of Dance: :3
Sans: SCREW IT, I'M MAKING ANOTHER
The Duke of Dance: Not so easy coming up with fresh material, is it?
The Duke of Dance: Also, "quiver" is another name for one of your joints.
The Duke of Dance: I'm just really looking at medical sites for this shit.
Sans: CURSE YOU GOOGLE.
The Duke of Dance: it's tibea expected. <Favorite skeleton pun, using it again
... keep reading on reddit ➡A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night. He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound.The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave.Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk."The man sa,ys, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk."The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks."In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound."The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door."The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door."The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the kno
... keep reading on reddit ➡So I just realized that my "epic" theatre joke is also a dadjoke.
Now this requires some explaining before I get to the joke. I just completed my 55th theatre production - mostly community theatre; most designing and running sound, but I get on stage sometimes. A decade or so ago, I came up with a terrible pun. Told it, got groans, and promptly forgot about it.
A production or two later, someone said - "Hey, aren't you going to tell your joke?" It took a little prompting to remind me of it. Once I was reminded, I told the joke - to more groans.
I enjoyed the groans so much - and was touched that someone remembered the joke that I'd forgotten. So I did decide it was going to forevermore be: THE JOKE.
So the NEXT production, I started warning people that "The Joke" was coming. One or two remembered the previous time I'd told it, and reacted - "Oh god. Please no."
So now it has truly become a thing. Every production I'm in, I start reminding people that The Joke is coming, and the reactions from those who know the joke really help set up the anticipation.
So finally it happens. Most theatre productions I've been in run Fri-Sat-Sun performances. And thus, as I explain, I can only tell The Joke after the last Friday night's performance ends, and before the last Saturday's performance begins. It shifts if the days are different because The Joke depends on the number of remaining shows.
So, finally that time period comes, and I explain that I can only tell the joke during that time period, only the once per production - from auditions to strike - and that we're in that period of time.... which is known as.... the "cancer period". AND would you like to know WHY this period of time is known as the "cancer period"?
(at which point the tension for the punchline is usually quite palpable)
"Because we have...... TUMOR!" (as I hold up two fingers).
This is usually followed by shouts to "GET OUT!" and threats of violence against my person. hehehe
And the NEXT time, when I start warning that "The Joke" is coming, most of these groan "Oh god... no...." and helps set it up for the next poor bunch of folks who haven't yet heard it. :)
I left my phone in the bathroom at my work(which is a thing I tend to do). My events coordinator came into the back with tears down her eyes, laughing hysterically, with it in hand.
"What happened?"
"You left your phone in the bathroom and I texted your dad saying this phone was left in the bathroom and to please call the restaurant."
"You shouldn't have texted my dad."
"I know! He called the restaurant and said that this was they phone number of his daughter that died three years ago by choking to death while eating here!"
"Oh my God..."
"I know! When I asked if he was serious he said "nah, she's just the ditzy Asian girl that leaves her phone everywhere.""
