Hours Of Work Puns

In short his practice is shrinking.

An On-Call-ogist

Maybe you should be a better doctor”

They wanted me to work Aldi and all of the night

Keep in mind, my son is 4 years old, so everything is an original to him.

I had to work late into the evening yesterday, and he was just going to bed when I got home. I had left home for the office nearly 14 hours prior, had a long day, lots of meetings, traffic, etc.

When I walked through the door, I was exhausted, run down, and starving. My wife hugged me and asked how my day was, and I replied, "Done. It was a good day, but has got me exhausted. I just want to grab a bite and go to bed. I'm hungry."

From my son's bedroom, I hear him shout, "Hi Hungry! Nice to meet you!"

Not only did it make me laugh, but I completely forgot about how hungry and tired I was. I went to his bedroom, and we laughed together about it. It was exactly what I needed.

Edit: Thanks for all the awards, kind strangers! I'll let my son know y'all enjoyed his joke too!

True story, I work in the health industry, get to ask these questions from time to time:

Me: Good morning (of course no matter what time of day it is)! I have 4 questions for you, let’s see if you studied for the test...

Patient: (most of the time, chuckle)

Me: Have you had a fever in the last 48 hours?

Patient: No

Me: Have you had a persistent cough recently?

Patient: No

Me: Have you been tested for COVID-19 recently?

Patient (sometimes): Yes

Me: Do you know the results of the test?

Patient (about 85% of the time): Negative

Me: You don’t know the results of the test? (Straight face behind mask)

Patient: It was negative

Me: (smile and chuckle showing through mask)

Patient: Ohhhh! I get it! (Laughs 95% of the time)

Me: Dad jokes have to happen... 🙂

/insert question #4 here, unrelated to said joke... heh

Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.

So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.

He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.

As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.

She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.

This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.

When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.

This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.

The two couldn't be happier!

They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.

One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.

She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.

She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.

A shallot, if you will.

A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.

They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.

The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.

Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.

Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.

He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.

One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.

The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.

She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to

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.”

When he got to old man Johnson’s house the old man said “My yard doesn’t need any work, but my porch is in need of a coat of paint. I’ll pay you 50 bucks, and if you finish by sundown I’ll throw in a 50 dollar bonus”.

With a confused look on his face little Johnny accepted the offer and got to work.

Less than an hour later little Johnny knocked on old man Johnson’s door to collect his hundred dollars.

“All finished, that’ll be one hundred dollars”!

Noticing there wasn’t a single drop of paint on the porch the old man started quizzing little Johnnys integrity.

“Now little Johnny, are you absolutely positively one hundred percent sure you finished painting my porch”?

“I sure am! Oh and by the way that’s not a porch, it’s a Ferrari”!

Was at Disney World today and went to meet my favorite disney princess. After an hour wait, we get through the line to see her. I pull out my phone to take a picture with her and after a minute of trying to get my camera to work she asks "is it frozen?" I looked up from my phone to see her smirking face. I groaned despite myself.

Safe to say I fell in love today.

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".

I work at a pretty busy spot in New Orleans, the French quarter to be exact. People coming in and leaving an item they brought with them happens a lot after a few beers. This one guy leaves a chair and in half an hour he comes back for it.
Chair Guy "Excuse me sir, did I leave a chair here?"
Me "What do you think this is pal?? Some kind of CHAIR-ITY??"

If his eyes could roll anymore then they already were, they would have rolled out of his head.
Chair guy "get me your manager right now"
Me "Now that's not very CHAIR-ITABLE of you either"
Edit: Thank you for the gold kind stranger, you are very CHAIR-ITABLE, for popping my gold CHAIR-Y

I work in the investigations section of a military police department, and aside from our normal office hours, we have 24hr shifts that cycle through the office, so that there's an investigator present and on-duty 24/7/365.

My co-worker was wrapping up some paperwork this morning, and coming off of his 24 hr shift, and almost dead to the world. At the time, a pair of other investigators in my office were discussing some case that had happened a day or two prior that involved an emancipated juvenile.

I was just logging into my workstation to check my e-mail and I turned to my co-worker and asked, "Hey, so when a juvenile gets emancipated, and he announces it - proclaims it, if you will - what would they call that?"

He stares at me with a blank, uncomprehending expression and I continue, "An emancipation...proclamation? Maybe?"

The annoyed groans of someone who's been up for 24 hours are so satisfying.

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

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

He wemt to his mum, who was doing work, and asked, "mum, whats the first letter of the alphabet?"

Mum: Shut up and go away!

Kid goes to his dad, who just got a perfect score in darts, and says: Dad, whats the second letter of the alphabet?

Dad: 180!!

Walks to older brother who was playing batman video games: whats the third letter of the alphabet?

Brother: na na na na na na na na BATMAN!

Walks up to younger brother playing with toys: whats the 4th letter of the alphabet?

Brother: driving my little red car.

Kid rolls up to school, ready to recite the first 4 letters of the alphabet.

Teacher: whats the first letter?

Kid: Shut up and go away!!

Teacher: HOW MANY HOURS OF DETENTION DO YOU WANT

Kid: 180!!

Teacher: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

Kid: na na na na na na na na BATMAN

Teacher: HOW DO YKU THINK YOULL GET AWAY WITH THIS?!?

Kid: Driving my little red car

My dad called me out of my room, asked me what I was doing and I told him I was revising (insert quote marks around that for yourself if you'd like). He asks me to look in the car and there's a whole crate full of packets of salt that are all leaking. That sounds weird, and to be honest it is, but my dad works at a supermarket and gets to take home faulty merchandise so I though nothing of it. He asks me to move it all into the garage, so I do so.

Then he tells me: "Actually, put it in the shed". Now I'm confused since we don't have a shed, and so I asked him what he meant. He tells me, "The one in the old house". We own two houses - our first one, and our new one, so I thought alright that's enough; the house is a half-hour walk and I honestly cannot be bothered for him asking me to walk that half an hour whilst I could be revising so I get a bit mad and just tell him straight.

He gives me a little smile and just says "Don't get salty and start shedding tears, I'll do it then". He gives me a little smile and just walks off. I'm honestly so glad I'm moving away for uni next year.

A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.

“Daddy, may I ask you a question ?”

“Yeah, sure, what is it ?” replied the man.

“Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?”

“That’s none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily.

“I just want to know.  Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?” pleaded the little boy.

“If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour.”

“Oh,” the little boy replied, head bowed.

Looking up, he said, “Daddy, may I borrow $9.00 please?”

The father was furious. “If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed.   Think about why you’re being so selfish.  I work long, hard hours every day and don’t have time for such childish games.”

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy’s questioning.  How dare he ask such questions only to get some money.

After an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son.  May be there was something he really needed to buy with that $9.00 and he really didn’t ask for money very often.

The man went to the door of the little boy’s room and opened the door.  “Are you asleep son?” he asked.

“No daddy, I’m awake,” replied the boy.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier,” said the man.  “It’s been long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here’s that $9.00 you asked for.”

The little boy sat straight up, beaming.

“Oh, thank you daddy!” he yelled.

Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills.  The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.

The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.

“Why did you want more money if you already had some?” the father grumbled.

“Because I didn’t have enough, but now I do,” the little boy replied.

“Daddy, I have $20.00 now.  Can I buy an hour of your time?”

The father looked upon his son with a smile as he walked towards the door and said "Overtime is double pay."

I'm a lawyer who clerks for a judge. We had a long, tedious day of jury selection, a process known as voir dire (pronounced vwar-deer). After 6 hours of work, I looked at him and said "after this voir dire, I could sure use a voir beer!"

Crickets.

My boss is a good guy and a good boss, but he always says the same 5 or so jokes (he has two young kids). Anytime he pulls up to a job that we've been working on its "you aren't done yet?" or its "great job, but why are they upside down". Every time someone walks up to a job they get a loud "shhhh, here they come". I can go on and on, he has comedy routines for almost every situation.

So that's what I have to deal with.

Last weekend he took a mini-vacation, and brought me back a bottle of hot sauce (I'm something of a heatseeker) and the bottle was layer with all sorts of sexual innuendo that it'll get you hard and great at sex.

The other day I send him a text message around lunch time that only said "I have to go to the emergency room." Not 30 seconds pass and I get a phone call from him.

Boss: "What happened?"

Me: "Well, this morning I put some of that hot sauce you gave me on my eggs, and I've had an erection lasting more than four hours."

Boss: dryly "Ha. Ha. Haaa."

Meanwhile my coworker is dying of laughter and I'm trying to keep it together.

I've told everyone about this the past couple days.

I used to work at a starbucks with my best bud to earn some extra cash after school. Every day an hour or so before closing without fail this older indian man would come in and order two large coffees.

We started to talk with the guy since there weren't many other people in the shop and he told us is name was Haind Sahit and that he was a night worker which is why he drank the coffee. After a while, we would just have the coffee ready for him as soon as he came in the door.

One evening my friend went out back to pick some supplies for refill and had to get something from the top shelf, being a short guy he grabbed an old ladder and started climbing but one of the steps broke and he fell and hit his head pretty hard.

He was rushed to the hospital and woke up a couple days later with no major damages but with a light case of amnesia.

Once he got back on his legs he started working at the starbucks again and as soon as Haind heard, he came back to see how my friend was and stepped up to the desk to greet him. Sadly my friend couldn't remember him at all and just asked what he would like to order. Haind turned around with a tear in his eyes and said "You know, you should really have checked that ladder before you used it".

There was a glimmer in my friends eye and he immediatly started preparing two large coffees. As Haind saw he started smiling and crying and came around the desk to give my friend a hug. He asked my friend "What happened, how did you remember?" and my friend answered "Haind Sahit is always venti venti".

My dad is really proud of this one. It's the only joke he's ever told that's been funny enough to make somebody laugh so hard that they spit out of their nose. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for this joke, so let me give you some context first:

He's been in a motorcycle accident (hit and run by an illegal immigrant), and had to have most of his vertebrae fused. They use titanium rods to hold your back from bending, so as you can imagine its kind of a major operation. His doctor prescribed a year (or longer if needed) of massage therapy, which he was thankful for. Twice a week he went in to a small clinic for a few hours at a time, and usually had the same masseuse. Let's call her Marge.

After four months of therapy they of course got to know each other very well. He was always faithful to my mother, but he was good friends with Marge. Their conversations range all the way from baseball to differentials, and everything stays platonic.

Here's where the story begins:

During a massage, they are having an energetic conversation, the time comes where he turns onto his back so that she can get to his knee ligaments (chainsawed his kneecap a few years prior, doc said may as well get there too). She goes at it like normal, and the conversation continues. Now here comes the part that made my dad wait to tell me this until recently: The "stimulation" in his knee for some reason, on that day out of all others, triggered a reflexive erection. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

The conversation goes quiet. Marge notices, but doesn't say a word. She remains professional. She continues working. My dad is more embarrassed than he's ever been. Several minutes of silence pass, and my dad cant take it anymore.

"Marge," he says, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

He raises his head to look down the table at her. He glances at it, then back to her. With a slight shake of his head he says:

"Wait nevermind, it's only his trunk"

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.

One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.

One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.

One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”

Roommate (Context: we just started hooking up) comes home from work. Comes upstairs and hangs out watching movies until sexytime ensues.

After sexytime she gets up and says "S*** I'm late, I need to go" so I ask "Where are you going?" she replies "I was supposed to meet my friends an hour ago, but I got Dick-stracted."

I proceeded to fall out of the bed laughing.

As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.

One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.

Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.

I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.

I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.

I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.

After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.

I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.

So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.

I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.

As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.

The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.

I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.

This joke has been told to me

When they arrived, a cab driver greeted them at the airport. "What should we do on our first day here," the father asked his son, excitedly. The driver interjected, "Well, if you're not natives, I'd suggest the roller coaster that teaches your or language." Confused, the father and son look at one another then back at their guide. "Trust me," he told them, "It's guaranteed or your money back." Having no plans and now both understandably intrigued, the pair agreed. When they arrived at the roller coaster, they were amazed to behold the giant steel skeleton of the most intricate ride they'd ever seen. It had loops, helixes, corkscrews and drops more terrifying than anything they'd ridden back home. The son quickly rescinded his consent and turned you guys father. "There's no way I'm getting on that thing. You go first," he said, "Then you can tell me if it's worth it." Not wanting to seem a coward, the father accepted. Stepping into the first car, he seated himself. As the attendant approached to check his shoulder restraint, her couldn't help but ask, "So how exactly am I supposed to learn an entire language from a roller coaster?" The attendant smiled and replied simply, "You'll see." Anticipation turned to unease as the cars lurched upward towards the first drop. The seconds felt like hours as the car climbed higher and higher, clicking steadily while the chain pulled it skyward. As the nose of the car tipped downward and he could see the enormous drop below, his inner fear turned verbal. Without thinking he screamed, "minä kuolen!" As he rounded the first turn and into an inverted twist, he debut another exclamation well inside and burst forth. "naida!" He screamed as the ride continued. A few minutes and many foreign-tongued exclamations later, he found himself back at the station trying to catch his breath with the smiling attendant removing his restraints. His ran up to his son and declared, "It really works! I'm not sure how, but it really works!" "How was it?" the son asked unimpressed. "It was a wild ride from start to Finnish." "The son smiled weakly. "Yeah , the cabbie stole our luggage."

And he's not letting anyone go home at reasonable hours or take leave until the big project's . He's been working early mornings and late nights . It's been going on for weeks. they're all tired and homesick. I haven't had a meal with him at home all month which really sucks because he was a great laugh at dinner time. Even when I do see him he's too overworked to even think straight.

Anyway, yesterday Phil, one of his workmates had a brilliant plan.

He turned to my Dad and said to him; "I've had enough of this crap, I'm going home and calling in sick for the next couple of days!"

My dad is amazed. "Phil!" he says, "You can't do that - you'll get sacked!"

"Don't worry, mate," says Phil, "I've got it all worked out." tapping his nose. Out of the blue he reaches up and grabs the ceiling fan (It was off) and hangs upside down from it. My dad has no idea what's going on and tries to ask him, but Phil doesn't answer.

Eventually the boss walks in and asks "Phil - what the Hell are you doing?"

"I'm a lightbulb." replies Phil.

The boss is surprised and realises the guy needs to go home and sends him off for a couple of days. All of a sudden my Dad gets up too and walks away.

"What do you think you're doing?" says the boss.

"You don't expect me to work in the Dark do you?" replies my Dad.

OK... so did you ever notice how every time you spend 4 days alone in the woods and you make it out without a scratch or even a mosquito bite, and you're feeling all peaceful and relaxed and at one with the universe, you're not home 20 minutes and unloading the back of your truck when you slam your right shin into the trailer hitch... and amid the flashing white stars around you, your fists clench, your teeth grit, your body tenses and every "mean, nasty and ugly" word you ever read, heard, uttered or even imagined ("Wait... is #*&%#@!!! even a word??? Oh what the heck? It works!") goes tearing through your brain.... and eventually it passes and you keep working, surprised you're not even limping and it doesn't hurt more than it does... and almost an hour later, when you're finished and getting undressed to take your first hot shower in days, you see a lump on your shin the size of Rhode Island... and the first image that pops into your head is John Merrick yelling "I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!!!... in fact, it literally looks like a second knee on your right leg... so you spend the rest of the evening keeping it elevated and icing it on and off, alternating between a blue gel pack and a bag of frozen peas.... and when you go to bed, you keep the gel pack on while you read and then take it off before you go to sleep... and then you wake up around 3AM and decide to check your shin and the swelling has gone down quite a bit... but since you still have several hours before you get up, you decide to ice it again... but the gel pack on the floor is no longer cold so you get up, walk to the kitchen and open the fridge... and after taking a bite of leftover pizza from last night (because... well, you're here and what the heck?), you go into the freezer, grab the bag of frozen peas and take them back to bed with you... but they're all frozen into one big solid ball and well, that won't do... so you lay the bag on the bed to pound it once or twice to break them up, but instead the bag bursts open and suddenly there are frozen peas sprayed all over the bed and rolling onto the floor... and all those words from yesterday come rushing back into your head as you kneel to gather them all up... but suddenly your anger completely vanishes and you can't help laughing to yourself as you think, "gee, I can't remember the last time I pea'd the bed in the middle of the night"???

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

When I worked for a design agency, I had two adamant higher-ups. There was a brand identity project for a new company, and I was in charge of typography, but those two disagreed with my choice of font.

The first one was this stony-looking Peruvian-American man named Esteban Ferrero, but since that's Spanish for Steven Smith, and our company had a rule that everyone has to call each other using nicknames instead of last names, everyone, including himself, just called him Steve. The second one was a Dutch woman with a sharp glare named Evelien van der Berg. She was famous for giving designers a hard time convincing her that their design choices work better than hers. In accordance with the company rules, we called her Eve.

Anyway, I showed Steve my first draft, and he wasn't convinced that I chose LinoLetter as the main font, and told me that I should use a sans-serif font. But I stood by my position that serifs add legibility to printed and digital material, that it fits the company's identity as an organic store, and that it is hard to stand out with a sans-serif. It took a lot of debate, but in the end, Steve was convinced that LinoLetter was acceptable.

A few days later, I showed Eve a more elaborated version, as for the sizes and styles of the font, and the pairing of LinoLetter with Century as the headline font. She insisted that I should have used a sans-serif font for the headline. I expressed my view that LinoLetter is a font with composed and legible shape, and Century, while it is also legible, has flair at larger sizes. She kept disagreeing with me, saying I should use something bolder and more contrasting, like Tungsten. It felt like hours had passed before the conversation went anywhere, so I had to give up and look for a sans-serif font that goes with LinoLetter.

So it goes to show that the one who gave me a hard time was adamant Eve, not adamant Steve.

My son was a councilor at a summer camp for kids.

One day he came home from work and told me that he heard me come out of his mouth twice in one day.

Whenever we drove somewhere with the kids, the answer to the inevitable question, "how much longer till we get there", was 20 minutes, whether it was 5 minutes or 5 hours.

So, they were taking a bus load of kids to the baseball stadium and one kid asked, "how much longer till we get there", and my son almost bit his own tongue off when he heard himself say , "20 minutes".

While they were waiting on line to enter the stadium, another kid asked, "How long do we have to wait?" My son answered, "four minutes and 60 seconds." This elicited the response, "That's too long," to which he replied, "well how about five minutes".

He tried to bash his own head against the rocks.

I'm so proud. :-)

I was at work yesterday and there was a man cleaning the windows. He commented that all the customers had disappeared so I told him that it would be busy again in about an hour. He looks at me and says 'I guess this is my window of opportunity then' and winks.

Jim was working hard sawing wood. It was hot, his hands slippery with sweat and the saw slipped from his fingers and cut off all of his toes. No ambulences were available so he called a toe truck, but he got there too late. His toes could no longer be reattached. He could not walk right, so he could not work. He got workers comp but it wasn't enough. Worst of all, his wife was lack toes intolerant. She filed for separation. He looked online for solutions to his problems and found a post telling him where he may find an answer. It said "Go to the forest late at night and wait in the glade. There you will find the Great Toed. He is wise in these matters." Having nothing to lose he followed the instructions and reached the glade spoken of. There was a line drawn that said "wait here." And wait he did for over an hour, and just as he was about to leave, a many toed toad toed the other side of the line with a bag in tow. "Ask your question," it said in a raspy voice. So Jim related his tale of toe woes. After listening the many toed toad replied "Have you tried the supermarket?" Jim wondered how a supermarket would help but decided to give it a try. He went the next morning and walked down aisle after aisle and then he found it: The supermarket was giving away free toes. Elated, he grabbed as many bags of them as he could and checked each one. He found enough that fit, but needed to attach them. He went back to the glade for help getting the new toes attached, and the toad was happy to help. He helped attach the new toes and jim ran off (little did Jim know that the toad croaked soon after) He was able to walk normal again, his wife came back, he got his job back and everyone lived happily ever after.

Oh the punch line? It's over there by the table.

I'm away at university and my dad calls me up while I'm doing last minute homework:

Dad: What are you up to?

Me: Just finishing an essay about Dickens' Hard Times for class. I'm really busy, can I call you back in a couple hours?

Dad: Oh, that sounds like a hard time!

Me: (Sarcastically) Well it's not the MOST fun I've ever had.

Dad: (long pause followed by a sigh) Are you having a hard time with the joke?

Me: No, (chuckles) I get it dad... but I've got to go!

Dad: You sound like you're having a hard time.

Me: Dad, I got it.

Dad: (scoff) Ahhh, I'm just giving you a hard time!

Me: Dad.... I've got so much work to do.

Dad: I'll let you go then; glad to be of help during this hard time. Good luck on your essay! (hangs up)

"It was solid mahogany, with memory foam and I had just worked 12 hours and.."

SON " WRONG TYPE OF BEDTIME STORY DAD!"

My family came back home from eating chinese and then my dad got back home from work a couple of hours later. That's when my mom says "We went to eat chinese, but I didn't really eat right. I wasn't really having the feeling for it at the time. I only ate a few plates" that's when my dad drops "That's why you couldn't eat right. You're supposed to eat the food, not the plates!"

My groan was heard past Andromeda and will be talked about for generations to come.

I work pizza delivery and late on Sunday night I was counting out my money. I was deep in concentration and when I finally turned around I found that the kitchen workers were cleaning out the walk-in cooler and they had stacked box after box of cheese nearly surrounding me. I turned to the nearest worker and said, "Hey, I'm really getting cheesed here!"

She snorted. I chuckled for the next hour, and on and off for the next few days.

My parents are heading up to NY on vacation together. We have a group text that has my parents, my wife and I, my brother and his fiancee, and my sister. All day, half the family has been traveling for either work of vacation, so there have been a lot of texts about when people have boarded their flights or landed at their layovers of destinations. After 2 hours without any texts, here are the latest two texts we all got:

Mom: We got to NY!

Dad: Glad to hear it!

(remember, they're traveling together. Oy)

An Official is inspecting a lunatic asylum to find one inmate to be released for the Asylum's anniversary, after several hours of visiting the numerous wards he enters one where he finds a man sitting on his bed carving a wooden block. He approaches the man and asks him what he was carving, the man on the bed replies that he carves wooden clothes pegs, and that each day he makes around 5. "Well that certainly is impressive" the inspector tells the man, "I think I shall recommend you to the warden for release." The inspector then notices a man hanging from the ceiling, "What is he doing up there?" he again questions the man on the bed. "Oh, he thinks he's a light bulb!" The man on the bed replies, "Well, shouldn't we get him down?" the Inspector asks, shocked, "Don't be daft!", remarks the Man on the bed, "I can't work in the dark!"