Hook Up With Puns

Because of the six appeal.

It's the thot that counts

But I couldn’t connect the Dots

But those are just my shower thots

But it's really just Putin trying to interfere with our erections.

She gave me hermit crabs

They’re pregnant now :/

She hates when I call her that.

The questions is, will Neil Patrick Harris on the back?

She laughed, "hee haw!" The farmer said, "she can't understand ya... she's a donkey!"

Some stories have hooks.

This story has a bloody good one.

It's about love—

Or at least marriage.

My marriage.

At heart, it's your typical fish out of water story, but like I said there's a hook.

The hook's in the beginning.

Although it's really the tail end that's most moving—at least now, when our love's drying up.

Understand:

I'm a fisherman, and I caught my wife with another man.

Well, I caught the man first.

I used Craigslist.

But I suppose the details don't really matter. It's enough to know that by the time he was naked in the shed it was too late for him to change his mind.

He broke down easily. He wasn't particularly thick skinned.

That's where the hook came in—

pushed through a fold of flesh on his back.

He wasn't much in the size department, but I didn't intend for him to get hung up on it. Unfortunately, he kept trying to escape, so what choice did I have? Then he seemed quite insecure, so I pierced him with another steel hook just in case.

Like I said:

Bloody good hook.

After he stopped struggling, I took him down and dragged him to my boat. Then we went fishing.

Hold on, though.

I may need to backtrack a little, because you may be wondering how I even knew she was out there.

The answer is: I'd already seen her swimming a few times.

It was love at first sight.

Like many couples nowadays we met on the net.

So back to when I was fishing:

I was in my boat with the Craigslist man with the steel hooks in his back. I had tied a thick rope to one of the hooks, placed the man onto a net, and pushed them both overboard. He splashed and choked, attracting a lot of attention.

I waited for her call.

It came.

She sounded so near to me.

When she swam just close enough to the Craigslist man in the water, I pulled in the net—and there she was: shining, mine to the gills and writhing so enticingly!

I took her ashore.

I placed her in a water tank and told her she would be my wife.

I screwed her—

shut.

For days I watched her bang—

on the glass.

Until one day it happened: the glass cracked, the tank broke open, and with the water she spilled onto the floor.

Now here I am, watching my marriage fall apart.

Her gills are barely stirring.

Her face: dry and still.

It's only her scaly tail that's still gently moving.

I caught my wife with another man. I met her on the net. I thought our love would last forever, but now, listening to her shriek, I realize I was catfished! I wanted to marry a siren—but this thing is nothing

The bar tender says “wow how’d you get that peg leg?” The pirate says one day I was out sailing and a shark jumped aboard and tore it clean off” next the bartender asks “and the hook? How’d you get that?” The pirate responds “well we were out whaling and one leapt out of the water and bit my hand clean off” the bartender then asks, “ok so what about the eyepatch??” The pirate responds “I was out walking on the deck of my ship when I looked up and a seagull shit right in my eye” the bartender is a bit confused and says “that made you lose your eye?” “No” says the pirate “it was my first day with the hook!”

...they can hook up with some body.

I know this story may sound a little fishy, some of you may even consider it a whale of a tale, but if you take it in tide I’m sure you’ll sea the porpoise isn’t me just beingkoi or * squidding* around or fishing for attention; it was shrimply an act of cod that I’m hooked on sharing with others. If it reely makes anyone crabby or puts me on thin ice, just let minnow and I’ll gladly clam up. I’d hate to see this sub flounder or take a dive because of my own shellfish ambitions.

My boy, Arthur, is slow. He is the slowest child I’ve ever met. And I don’t mean mentally, he just doesn’t move quickly at all no matter what the urgency.

He takes an hour to get out of bed and stand up in the morning. He takes an hour to eat. When we go anywhere we have to tell him 20 minutes in advance because he takes that long to get his shoes on. His showers…we had to install an industrial sized water heater and hook it up to his shower exclusively because he would drain the tank and shower in ice cold water and started getting sick from it.

The worst part is that even if you help him out he doesn’t go faster. We can feed him and he’ll just swallow slower. We can wash him and he’ll just sit there for longer.

I’ve learned to live with it and be content because I know he won’t change. But my wife can’t take it. Just the other day she told me she was going to punish him to make him go quicker:

“I’ve had it with him! I’m going to start giving him timeouts and taking away toys for going so slow!”

“Honey,” I said, “it’ll never work.”

“Why not?!”

“Because you can’t rush Art.”

A pirate walks into bar and sits down. The bartender notices that he has a peg leg, a hook for a hand, and a patch over one eye. The pirate orders a beer, and while he's pouring it the bartender asks "So what's the story with the leg?" "Well it were many a year ago," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard, and a shark swum up and bit me leg clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a peg leg that very night." "That's terrible," says the bartender. "What about the hand?" "Well it were the very next day," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship and a rogue wave swept me overboard again, and a whale came up and bit me hand clean off! I swum ashore and were fitted fer a hook that very night." "Wow," says the bartender. "So what about the eye?" "Well it were the very next day," says the pirate. "I were walkin on the deck a me ship, and I were lookin out fer rogue waves, and a seagull flew over and shit right in me eye!" "Oh man," says the bartender. "And that blinded you?" "Well no," says the pirate. "But it were me first day with the hook."

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

Play on words: Sexually frustrated sea mammals

     I'm Russ Whale. My wife Bayleen a few months ago gave birth to our first calf, Humphrey. I convinced my mother-in-law to whale watch tonight. It's been far too long. I drop off Humphrey and head home to hook up with the wife. 

I arrive and who do I sealion there? The wife. I'm undeterred. I try my patented move, the Humpback. I get a slight groan.

Bayleen: Rus, Are you poking me in the back again?

Rus: It's on porpoise. We're alone for the first time in forever.

Bayleen: I'm so tired, I haven't got any sleep with Humphrey making me into a nurse shark. Plus you smell like ambergris.

Rus: Hamburgers?

Bayleen: Yes, hamburgers. Please go take a shower or something.

Rus: Ok.

Rus takes a quick shower and returns. Bayleen is asleep again. Rus tries the humpback maneuver again. Nothing.

Rus: Sometimes... I wish I was a sperm whale.

Rus is slightly blubbering and and all you can make outs is odd noises and maybe the word 'blowhole'. Rus cries himself to sleep.

Fin.

The doctor's office was associated with the local medical college, so there were a couple of med students watching the senior doctor work on my son's toe. He loaded up a syringe with anesthetic and injected in multiple places, explaining that he was doing this to achieve digital blocking (that is, numbing the entire digit, namely the toe).

After it was done they left the nurse to bandage my son up, and he said, "Dad? What did he mean by digital blocking?"

"Well, when you weren't looking he hooked your toe up to a USB port and downloaded some MP3s into it. If you hold your foot close to your ear you can hear "Laaaaa, aaaaa aa aaaaah, close to you.""

The nurse stared at me and turned to my son. "Is he always like this?"

He silently nodded, looking at the floor...

Her: the snow is really high here

Me: you should see if they can hook you up with their dealer

I think i did it right cuz she thought i sent the text to the wrong person

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 :)

He is on his annual week long fishing trip and I wasnt able to go this year so he's been sending me pictures of some of his better fish. He sends me a pic of a nice 4lbs Largemouth Bass with a cheeky smile. So I call and I ask him what he caught it on and without any delay and being completely serious..."a hook"...I sigh and just hang up on him haha

So it was MT friend's birthday, to celebrate she invited us all over to her house for some dinner.

They've got a pretty big house, and a sweet sound system set up with speakers in each room, so you could play music and everyone in the house will hear it.

So we're all talking and joking around over dinner, my friend hooked up her iPod to the sound system and Ed Sheeran is playing in the background

At this point, her dad comes over to chat

Dad: "So, how do you guys like my house music?"

Friend: "That's not house music dad..."

Dad: "Yeah it is! This is my house, and there's music playing in it, so it's house music!"