A six pack.
People would always looked so shocked until he'd reply "Back then, nine kids was fairly common"
If you want to join you need to seek six sick Sikhs sect.
The Pillsbury Doughboy, remembered best as "Pop N Serve", and/or "Pop N Fresh", died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.
Doughboy will be buried in this lightly greased coffin.
Dozens of celebrities will turn out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.
The grave site is expected to be piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima will deliver the eulogy and lovingly describe Doughboy as "a man who never knew how much he was kneaded".
Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers.. He was considered a very smart cookie, but wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes.
Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop tart.
The funeral will be held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
“If they have eggs, get a dozen” she said. A half hour later, the husband comes home with 12 loaves of bread
Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-
He said, "So I'll go first?"
I said sure.
I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.
He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.
He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.
Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.
After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.
I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"
He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."
(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)
... half a dozen mean-looking tough and muscly guys approached us. The biggest of them said to me in a rough voice, "You're at our table. Get lost. Now."
My mate whispered to me, "Just pretend we're the police".
I thought this was a great idea. But >!I only got halfway through the first line of "Roxanne" before they started beating the crap out of us!<
After I grabbed a half dozen donuts, he asked if I wanted to get a full dozen and I declined, mentioning I was trying to lose weight.
He handed me a box with another half dozen and said
"You know if you hold a box in each hand, it'll be a balanced breakfast."
Not a joke. A true story. My daughter asked me to take a photo of her because her hair was "on point". So I held the phone up and took half a dozen pictures as she posed.
Hilariously I had the camera pointing at me so she got my face looking serious. We laughed, started again, took some more pictures and obviously I did exactly the same thing. Comedy gold.
Of course now both of us are doing it every time we take a picture of anything with our phones. It's a downward spiral neither of us is prepared to break. I'm concerned I'm going to miss important moments in the lives of my as yet unborn grandchildren.
I call refer to that feeling as my "sick sense"
I hope that joke wasn't too dull, but hey, it only cost six scents.
Not to be mistaken for a half dozen walking trees from Lord of the Rings… You know, Six Ents.
You don't need a sixth sense to know this can't go on forever.
Veteran Pillsbury spokesman Pop N. Fresh died Wednesday of a severe yeast infection. He was 71. He was buried Friday in one of the biggest funerals in years. Dozens of celebrities turned out including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, and the Hostess Twinkies. The graveside was piled high with flours, as longtime friend Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, describing Fresh as a man who "never knew he was kneaded". Fresh rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a smart cookie, and wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Still, even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model to millions. Fresh is survived by his second wife. They had two children, and one in the oven. The funeral was at 3:50 for 20 minutes.
