Grab Bar Puns

The head veterinarian at a zoo noticed something alarming in a patient’s record. A monkey that had been a healthy weight at its last checkup was now recorded as being only half that.

Fearing for the monkey’s health, he went and saw it, expecting it to be sickly and skeletal. However, the monkey seemed totally normal. Confused told his staff to weigh the monkey again.

They did, but the number they reported was still astonishingly low. Sure it was a mistake, he went to weigh the monkey for himself. But when he put the monkey on the scale, it showed a number that was still far too low, and couldn’t possibly be right.

After a moment he spotted the problem: behind the scale was a grab bar on the wall, and the monkey had stealthily grabbed it with its tail, and was supporting some of its weight off the scale that way.

So the monkey's weight was fine, they just weren't paying attention to de tail.

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

He ask the barman: "What is this?"

The barman answer: "Oh this, place a dollar and if you make my horse laugh you can keep the pot."

"Fair enough" says the man "I'll give it a try" and then places a dollar in the pot

He walks in the stable and after a minute, the horse starts laughing and just can't seem to stop.

The man grabs the pot of change and leaves.

One week later, the man comes back to the bar and can still hear the horse laughing.

A new pot of change has been placed on the counter labeled: "Make my horse cry"

Man says: "Fair enough", place a dollar in the pot and walks again in the stable.

The horse stops laughing and starts crying

The man comes back in the bar and takes the pot of change.

Before he gets a chance to leave, the barman ask him: "How did you make him laugh so much?"

"Oh, very simple" says the man "I told him: My dick is bigger than yours"

"And how did you make him cry?" Ask the barman

"Even more simple, I showed him"

The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.

Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.

Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.

And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.

The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.

The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.

The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.

"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.

"Why not?"

"He's a cycle path".

After a long day of work i came home and asked my wife what's for dinner. She didn't know either so i said, you know what? Lets go for a fancy dinner at the restaurant, we're gonna eat some snails.

She wasn't interested in going out and said, you know what why don't you go to the night shop and pick up some snails and some red wine. And so i did..

On my way back home from the night shop i come across some friends dragging me to the bar. I end up drinking beers until 5 in the morning and then finally decide to go home. Grabbing the keys in my pocket i manage to drop the snails i bought at the night shop.

Now, at my doorstep, i ring the bell. My wife opens up and asks me where i was for the last few hours. I look at the ground and say "hurry up you damn snails we're almost there".

Beaten up from their last encounter with Agent Smith and his agents, they take a seat at the bar.

Morpheus is nursing his right shoulder, Neo has a busted lip and Trinity has a large cut on her left hand.

Neo says, "Bartender give us your best bottle of whiskey. We're gonna need it."

The bartender grabs a bottle and three tumblers.

Neo cracks open the whiskey and takes a swig straight from the bottle before grabbing the tumblers.

Trinity, inspecting her hand, says "I'm a little worried that this is gonna get infected."

"Don't worry," Morpheus says as Neo grabs Trinity's hand, "Neo's pourin'."

So the bartender gives him a bowl of peanuts. The panda grabs a handful and eats it. He starts walking towards the exit when he shoots up the bar and then proceeds to leave. The bartender says what was that the panda says look it up and throws him a dictionary. Panda eats, shoots, and leaves

So a piece of string walks into a pub, grabs a stool at the bar when he sees a sign that says "Strings not Allowed in this Establishment". He quickly ties himself into a knot before the bartender walks up and says "Hey!, are you a string??"

"No, I'm afraid knot"

One piece of string sits down while the other goes up to get drinks. The bartender says, "We don't serve pieces of string here." So the string goes back to its friend and tells it what the bartender said. The other piece of string grabs it, unravels it, and wraps it around itself, then heads over to the bar. The bartender says, "Hey, aren't you one of those pieces of string?" And the string says, "Nope, I'm afraid not."

Last week a wheel broke off my office chair and I kept it because I'm never one to pass on the chance for prop humor.

On Tuesday I got invited out with two of my friends to go grab a drink after work, I was told their girlfriends would be there too.

I pocketed my wheel and brought it with me to the bar, after a while when the couples started getting into their own chit chat I silently placed the wheel on the bar.

My friend asked me why there was a wheel on the bar and I told him "Oh, I'm just solidifying my spot as the fifth wheel."

I laughed and then died a little on the inside.

I grabbed a powercunch bar out of the cabinet, my wife turns as says "Stop you have a problem" to which I replied "Yo, i'll solve it check out the hook while my DJ revolves it" then proceeded to stuff it in my mouth whilst trying to flee.

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken