I walk into the office after two weeks of vacation, and my boss is reading a book.
Me: "Good morning, brother."
Him: "Hey, hey."
Me: "I missed you man, how you been?"
Him: "I've been right here, you need to aim better. -Flips page- ...But I've been good."
EDIT: Formatting.
All of a sudden, his friend pulls out a gun and shoots him. As the Australian is bleeding out on the ground, he rasps, “good aim, mate.”
Long post is long:
Her: Remember dad's tomato bushes? Well they're attacking! At least one is leaning across the path trying to get at my window... We had the war of the roses, now its time for the attack of the tomatoes!
Me: I don't remember anything about tomato bushes. From one battle to the next.
Her: Yep! Lookout tomatoes here comes the chutney recipe!
Me: I can just imagine a cucumber campaign. Operation onion would be next, which will fail, causing everyone to cry. Dill Day follows, a great success for the allied gardeners. All too soon though, the kamikaze carrots set in, utterly ruining the radish raid. The mushroom maneuver is employed, saving the troops, allowing them to deal the final blow in the asparagus assault!
Her: Don't forget the pumpkins want to supply ground cover with heavy support...
Me: Ah yes, the pumpkin paratroopers.
Her: Thyme is running out...
Me: Prepare the beetroot bombs!!!
Her: Aim for Potato Garden!
Me: Fire the capsicum! Deploy the celery team!
Her: Bring in the egg plant division to support the capsicum!
Me: This is it boys, life or dirt! I want a passionfruit unit to find us a vantage point, and the strawberry unit to surround them!
Her: We had better bring the lettuce up to date!
Me: The cabbage are under withering fire, we need support from the raspberry division! The potatoes are mashed, so well need to send the zucchini in their place!
Her: The zucchini can't take that heavy fire, they'll be grated. Send spinach for some extra iron. The sweet potatoes are digging in at the ridge.
Me: Prepare the watermelon bomb, we need to finish this! The eggplant were squashed, deploy the broccoli brigade! The beans need to get out of there, or they'll be split!
Her: Cauliflowers are going in to retrieve the beans. How brave to risk their florets!
The corn commandos are deployed, but the artichokes are all out of heart, we need to boost morale.
Me: The leeks are down! They'll be flattened if we don't do something!
Are the spinach still operational?
Her: Too bad the pepper isn't on our side, they're well seasoned troops.
Spinach is a go!
Nothing has touched it...
Me: But wait! We still have the chillies to give them heavy fire!
Her: And the squashes and peas!
Me: The ginger is holding it's ground, but it's being cut down by the pineapple!
The basil should make things interesting, send them to aid the potatoes.
**Her:
... keep reading on reddit ➡I have written this book to sweep away all misunderstandings about the crafty art of punnery and to convince you that the pun is well worth celebrating.... After all, the pun is mightier than the sword, and these days you are much more likely to run into a pun than into a sword. [A pun is a witticism involving the playful use of a word in different senses, or of words which differ in meaning but sound alike.]
Scoffing at puns seems to be a conditioned reflex, and through the centuries a steady barrage of libel and slander has been aimed at the practice of punning. Nearly three hundred years ago John Dennis sneered, “A pun is the lowest form of wit,” a charge that has been butted and rebutted by a mighty line of pundits and punheads.
Henry Erskine, for example, has protested that if a pun is the lowest form of wit, “It is, therefore, the foundation of all wit.” Oscar Levant has added a tag line: “A pun is the lowest form of humor—when you don’t think of it first.” John Crosbie and Bob Davies have responded to Dennis with hot, cross puns: “...If someone complains that punning is the lowest form of humor you can tell them that poetry is verse.”
Samuel Johnson, the eighteenth century self-appointed custodian of the English language, once thundered, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the national till without remorse... ”
Joseph Addison pronounced that the seeds of punning are in the minds of all men, and tho’ they may be subdued by reason, reflection, and good sense, they will be very apt to shoot up in the greatest genius, that which is not broken and cultivated by the rules of art.
Far from being invertebrate, the inveterate punster is a brave entertainer. He or she loves to create a three-ring circus of words: words clowning, words teetering on tightropes, words swinging from tent tops, words thrusting their head into the mouths of lions. Punnery can be highly entertaining, but it is always a risky business. The humor can fall on its face, it can lose its balance and plunge into the sawdust, or it can be decapitated by the snapping shut of jaws. While circus performers often receive laughter or applause for their efforts, punsters often draw an obligatory groan for theirs. But the fact that most people groan at, rather than laugh at, puns doesn’t mean that the punnery isn’t fu
... keep reading on reddit ➡