Hundred And One Puns

It was a Shih Tzu

I thought "I'll take that with a grain of salt."

So there was a high school dance and at that dance there was a boy with a wooden eye and a girl with a hair lip. The boy walks over to her and asks her if she would like to dance. "Oh would I!", she says. He responds saying, "shut up hair lip!"

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

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”!

Years ago when my mum was at a hotel with my dad she forgot her swimsuit so she bought one at the hotel shop. She got it put on the bill rather than pay for it there and never checked the price as she assumed it would just be a normal, cheap costume. Turned out it was an Armani one and cost hundreds so my dad 'gave' it to her for the next few Christmases, and when I reminded him of this years later: 'remember that Armani swimsuit?' he replied 'yes, it did cost a lot of Armani' ('our money').....

Every year, the team was in the state championship game, and usually won it handily. Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

So my front yard has a lot of weeds and crappy grass I've been trying to get rid of for years. They're mutants, so nothing will kill them. This year, one of the decorative rocks has turned out to be covered by a giant shroom as well. This thing is enormous. It has about a hundred different canopies, but as far as I can tell it's all one organism.

So I was talking with her about things I might be able to use to get rid of all this stuff, shroom included, and after she suggested a mixture of various household products I asked if it would work on fungus as well. She said it was worth a shot and asked why I wanted to know.

I replied, "Because that thing's just taking up way too mush room."

I was over it in a few seconds, but she's been randomly cracking up for days now. Send help.

Doing a crossword yesterday with FIL, MIL & GIL.
FIL says "Hey did you know I completed The Times crossword the other day apart from one clue" (For those of you who don't know The Times crossword is like one of the hardest crosswords)
MIL: "Go on then tell me the clue, I bet I'll work it out"
FIL: "Ok, the clue was "Heavily laden postman"
MIL: "How many letters?"
FIL: "Hundreds and Hundreds I would imagine"

Dead

They are both quality control managers and are instructed to check on the product before leaving.

They go below deck and open on of the boxes, and inside are hundreds of potatoes. One of them picks one up and notices that it’s a very odd shape for a potato. He picks up another and is also perplexed by its peculiarity.

He picks up a third and realizes that they are all shaped like penises. He says to his friend “I don’t think we can work on this ship with all these penis potatoes.”

So they go up to the captains quarters to quit. When they arrive they say “Captain, we cant work on this ship. We would like to get off.”

He looks them in the eye and says, “I’m sorry gentlemen. This isn’t a democracy. It’s a dictatorship.”

—

Originally read on r/jokes , but reworded for brevity.

One hundred "sows and bucks" (100,000 bucks).

I needed to run to Home Depot just a little while ago, and my eight year old son has been driving my wife insane, so he was sent with me. He asked a hundred questions about what tool does what and why I needed this or that. Despite my distracted supervision, he surely mixed up several loose nuts and bolts.

At the exit of the self checkout line, there's a massive gumball machine that holds massive gumballs. I rarely carry change, so he's out of luck.

Sonny Boy: Dad, can I have a quarter?

Me (checking out): Nope. Don't have one.

Sonny Boy: You don't have any cents?

Me: If I had any cents, I'd have left you at home tonight.

No, he didn't get it, and I'm shocked he set it up so well by saying cents. But, the dude in the line next to me let out a solid guffaw. We made the satisfying, knowing eye contact of two dad joke aficionados. I'm glad someone else heard it.

Me: NO! pouring fries all over the floor I asked for TWO LARGE FRIES and you gave me hundreds of little ones”

Turns out Quasimodo had a brother, Semimodo, who was also a Church bell-ringer and crippled. Instead of being a hunchback, though, Semimodo had no arms. He had to do his job by running along the rafter and striking the Church bell with his head.

One day he fell, a hundred feet to the ground. The head priest was asked to identify the body, and could only say "I don't recall his name, but his face rings a bell."

Almost 10 years ago now when my daughter’s mom was pregnant with her—waddling miserably towards the tail-end of her third trimester and about ready to pop—she looked forlornly at her figure in the mirror one day and announced, “Omigod I’m as big as a house!”

And so I, the Rico Suave motherfucker that I am, popped my head up from the book I was reading on the bed and responded thusly without missing a beat:

“Well, baby girl, if you’re a house then you’re my dream home...”

I thought our relationship was my rock on which we would build one hundred stories, but there were termites in the foundation. Unfortunately she ultimately turned out to be a mobile home that couldn’t stay tethered to a single lot for more than a few years at a time as, a short time later, she up-and-skedaddled from our lives and has been a deadbeat mom to our little girl ever since. (My daughter and I built a beautiful, cozy little bungalow-for-two anyways.)

Anyway, does that qualify as a pun, or just an extended metaphor? If not, sorry, I just always thought that was a good line and I wanted to humble-brag a bit.

I saw a white, fluffy thing swinging through my local cake shop. Suspect it was a meringue-utang.

I was out driving the other day and I spotted two packets of cheese & onion crisps walking down the road. I said, “Do you want a lift”. “No thanks”, they replied, “We’re Walkers”.

I was in a cake shop the other day, they were all £5 apart from one that was £10. I asked why it was so expensive, the shop owner said “that’s maderia cake”.

Bought some cream, it said “store in a cool place”. So I left it in the Doctor Who studios.

Local ice cream man was found lying on the floor of his van covered with hundreds and thousands. Police say that he topped himself.

I used to love doughnuts, but I got bored of the whole thing.

A man says “I keep finding custard in one ear, and jelly in the other”. The doctor says “I’m afraid you are a trifle deaf”.

I bought a waffle iron the other day. Get really annoyed with wrinkled waffles.

How do you make an apple puff? Chase it around the garden

What do they call a man who abandoned his diet? DESSERTER.

Ice cream is exquisite… –what a pity it isn’t illegal.

The optimist sees the doughnut, the pessimist sees the hole, and the realist sees the calories.

Why did Eve bite the forbidden apple? Because it tasted better than Adam’s banana.

Why did the students eat their homework? Because the teacher said that it was a piece of cake.

Why do we put candles on top of a birthday cake? Because it’s too hard to put them on the bottom!

When is a birthday cake like a golf ball? When it’s been sliced.

What did the cake say to the fork? you want a piece of me?

Why was the birthday cake as hard as a rock? Because it was marble cake!

What happens when no one comes to your birthday party? You can have your cake and eat it too.

What do they serve at birthday parties in heaven? Angel food cake, of course!

A birthday greeting: For someone special as you, only ANGELFOOD would do. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Did you hear there are two suspects in Two Ton Charley’s death? BEN and JERRY.

Don’t eat too much fudge, or else you will have so much pudge you won’t be able to budge.

You know you’re a mom if… Popsicles have become a staple food.

Mexican candy makes my taste buds say “OLE!”

FORGET LOVE… I’

Her: "I've just found a page with hundreds of omelette recipes!"

Me: "Well you'd better get cracking then."

Thank you one and all, first time I felt I had something worthy to submit here.

And he points at the cemetery and asks "How many people in there are dead do you think?"

I replied "One hundred, maybe one hundred fifty"

He said "Nope, ALL OF EM!"

(I know I just posted something a little while ago, but I just found this subreddit today and thought of another good dad story)

As a child I had an immense fear of bees. So, one day my dad and I were at the Museum of Science in Boston together checking out the exhibits. In one room there was a huge (actual) beehive encased in glass with hundreds of bees inside. Attached to the glass was a plastic speaker thing so you could put your ear against it and hear all the buzzing. So I mustered up some courage and gave it a go. As I was getting a good listen, my dad went "bzzzzZzzzzz" and tickled my ear with his finger. I freaked the fuck out, and swatted furiously all over the place. I cried, and was all mopey and pouty for the rest of the day.

In hindsight, I realize that that was an opportunity that just had to be seized.

Bf's dad: Did you know that every can of beans only has two hundred and thirty nine beans?

Me: Oh really?

Bf's dad: Yeah, if there were one more they'd be too farty.

...Didn't even see that one comin'.

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

Getting my check it said one hundred and thirty three dollars and no cents.

My dad said "wow that's a lot of money"

I replied "I don't know, It makes no cents to me"

dad looked at me proudly

He was facing away from the Dart board at me drinking at the bar.

He says, "Watch this."

He turns around and throws a dart at the board and yells;

"ONE HUNDRED and EIGHTY!!!!!"

I just told my dad I don't know what to do with the cantaloupe because it's too much melon for one person, and he responds "those melons have been responsible for hundreds of thousands of dollars being spent on a party for people that cantaloupe."

Like can't elope. My father everyone.

After a few days of doing this, he realizes he is simply not fit for this type of job. On his final day of trying to chop down trees, he notices an old scrawny man chopping down trees as if he was a woodpecker, the amount of hits he made grew more and more each swing. The first swing was one hit, the next, ten hits, the next one, a hundred hits, and the next one after that, a thousand. He kept swinging until the tree he was swinging at was chopped down. Amazed, the young man walks over to the old man and asks, "Sir, what is your secret, how do you chop them down so quickly?"

The old man turns and says, "It's all about the rhythm." Puzzled by the old man's answer, the young man returned home pondering what he said.

The next morning, he was motivated to keep trying to be a lumberjack. "If an old scrawny man can do it, so can I!" he thought.

So he went back to the forest, and tried to use his advice. Trying to time each swing, he realizes this simply doesn't work. Later in the day, he sees the old man again, comes up to him, and asks, "I tried to time my swings, but it does no more than just chopping normally. How do you do it?"

"You can't just make up any old rhythm and follow it, you have to find a very specific one," he says, "you have to find the Logger-rhythm."

Every able lad within a few hundred miles wanted to play football for Central Catholic Fighting Knights.

Those who were familiar with the program, knew that the true heart and soul of the Knights football program was Sister Mary Margaret, an aged nun who would, in full habit, get out on the practice field and work on routes with the receivers, give pointers to the quarterbacks on their stances and releases, but most of all, love them like the second mother that she became to all of the boys in that program.

One year, on the eve of the state championship game, some evil malefactors broke into the convent and kidnapped Sister Mary Margaret. Everyone was stunned by the news, but none more so than the Knights of Central Catholic. They were devastated at the loss of their mentor.

As you might guess, the state championship game didn't go very well. For the first time in the history of the football program, the Knights were shut out. The Spartans beat them 42-0.

The next day, the headline on the local sports section read:

No Offense, Nun Taken

Doing a crossword with my father in law and mother in law. He told me that he completed The Times crossword (which is apparently one of the hardest crosswords) the other day all except one clue. Mother in law says "go on then darling tell me the clue I bet I'll work it out" He says the clue is "heavily laden postman" She says "how many letters" He says "hundreds and hundreds I should think" Dead