In His Right Mind Puns

...right in front of a house where there’s a huge party going on. He walks in and notices that the party is somewhat divided. There’s a clear distinction between the people waiting for the bathroom and the people queued up for drinks, etc.

Considering the urgency of the bathroom queue, he walks over to the drinks table and asks everyone there if they wouldn’t mind helping him push his car to get it started. They agree but even with the full might of several people, the car doesn’t budge. He thanks them for trying and they all head back inside.

A little while later, the doorbell rings. The man sees the host open the door to the largest pizza guy he’s ever seen. The behemoth is holding 15 pizzas with one hand, a pallet of buffalo wings with the other, with a keg strapped to each shoulder. The man jumps up and asks the pizza guy for his help pushing the car. He agrees and they head to the street.

With barely one touch of a pinky on one hand, the car lurches forward and starts right up. The man drives off, waving behind him and yelling a quick, “Thank you.”

As he catches sight of the party fading into the distance, he says to himself...

“Thank goodness for the delivery because that punch line sure is weak.”

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

One of the classic  Abbott and Costello  routines, where Bud Abbott takes advantage of a common math mistake that we all make to fleece his pal, Lou Costello, out of all of his money.  The skit ends with a simple ‘read my mind’ routine that takes Lou’s last remaining bill.  This routine was done  many  times, both in the movies and their radio show.

Bud Abbott: Do me a favor, loan me $50.
Lou Costello: Bud, I can’t. I can’t loan you $50.
Bud Abbott: Oh, yes, ya can.
Lou Costello: No, I can’t. All I got is $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, give me the $40 and you’ll owe me 10  
Lou Costello: Ok, I’ll owe you 10.
Bud Abbott: That’s right.
Lou Costello: How come I owe you 10?
Bud Abbott: How much did I ask for?
Lou Costello: 50
Bud Abbott: How much did you give me?
Lou Costello: 40.
Bud Abbott: So you owe me $10.
Lou Costello: That’s right.  [Pause] But you owe me 40.
Bud Abbott: Don’t change the subject.
Lou Costello: I’m not changing the subject; you’re trying to change my finances. Come on, Abbott give me my $40.
Bud Abbott: All right, there’s your $40, now give me the 10 you owe me.
Lou Costello: I’m paying you on account.
Bud Abbott: On account?
Lou Costello: On account I don’t know how I owe it to ya.
Bud Abbott: That’s the way you feel about it, that’s the last time I ask you for a loan of $50.
Lou Costello: But how can I loan ya $50, now. All I got is 30.
Bud Abbott: Well, give me the 30 and you’ll owe me 20.
Lou Costello: Ok. This is getting worse all the time. (Look at audience) First I owe him 10, now I owe him 20.
Bud Abbott: Well, why do you run yourself into debt?
Lou Costello: I’m not running in, you’re pushing me!1
Bud Abbott: I can’t help it if you can’t handle your finances. I do all right with my money.
Lou Costello: And you do all right with my money too.
Bud Abbott: Now I asked you for a loan of $50. You gave me 30, so you owe me 20. 20 and 30 is 50.
Lou Costello: No. No. No. 25 and 25 is 50.
Bud Abbott: All right, here’s your $30, now give me the 20 you owe me. Fine guy, won’t loan a pal $50.

If someone makes a pun, you have to reply in a pun... but it has to be on the same topic as the original pun. Sooooooooooooooooooo my friend had the most clever, best pun of all time... A 3 word combo. The topic was dairy... and he made a pun I didn't quite catch... so with his wit, he responded "I guess that one flew right pasteurize" My mind was shattered...

Hi pun-masters!

I will share my life with a cat, starting Saturday! It’s a grey\white Maine coon male.

The thing is that I love puns, and when I saw the cat called « Sean Coonery », I thought it was adorable!

I’m not that good in finding right puns, and I was wondering if people wouldn’t mind helping me a little!

I live in Montreal, so it can be either English or French!

Thanks in advance!

One day I'm sitting talking to Gramps when another patient suddenly starts running around the room with his fists out in front of him as if riding a motorcycle, screaming "Braaaaaaaaaap, Braaaaap, Braaaaaaap." My Grandpa yells at him: "Goddamit Bill, Stop that!!!"

Me: I know right? The guy makes one hell of a racket!

Grandpa: I don't even mind the noise so much, its the damn smoke that gets to me!

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

We are from Quebec so we speak french.

It's lunchtime and someone at the table is getting thirsty. (Keep in mind that ''laid'' and ''lait'' are pronounced the same way in french)

''Peux tu me passer le lait, papa? (Can you pass over the milk, dad?)'' My sister says.

''Ben, le laid est just là! (Well, the ugly is right there!)'' My dad says while pointing at me.

He then proceeds to laugh, extremely proud of his joke. Oh dad..

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

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

So in my calculus class last year in math, there were these two Chinese twins. Ving, and Ling. Ving was always super cool with me. In exchange for answers (he was super smart) I would hang out with him and be his friend and stuff. After I cheated off of him and studied with him though, I did get to be his friend and we got very close.

His sister, Ling, was always uptight about school and she made sure to study, she got stressed about a B, etc. One day I was hanging out with Ving, and we started talking about names. He went off on this huge rant about how he hated his, and how he wanted to change it to something more Asian-American, like Lee. I told him that the Courthouse downtown had a form that you could fill to legally change it. He told me: "I always give you answers. If you could just drive me down to the courthouse this one time, I will never forget you. I just hate this god-forsaken Chinese name and I want to get rid of it forever."

He seemed pretty adamant about it, so I decided the best decision would be to take him. We walked out to my car, and right as I put the keys in the ignition Ling came running and tapped on the car door like a madman. I rolled it down and she started freaking out about how Ving's name had been passed down through generations and generations, but Ving didn't care. He just wanted to go down to the Courthouse and get it over with.

Ling figured that coming with would be the best idea, so if anything else came up that she would be needed for, she would be there for Ving. Honestly, I felt stuck in the middle of a family feud, so I just took her along. When we got to the Courthouse, Ving confidently walked up to the front desk and asked the receptionist if he could change his name. She gave him a little packet of paper and told him to sit down. Ling and I waited patiently while Ving filled out his info. I was watching him fill it out and I noticed he really did want to change his name to Lee.

Before he finished, though, he started tearing up. He told me he couldn't change his name. He asked the lady at the front that he couldn't do it, and she told him he would need twenty dollars to cancel the request. Ling was so relieved and happy that he changed his mind, she dug through her purse, found the money, and started to hand it to the receptionist.

It was at this moment that the most stereotypical Asian man burst through the doors. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a visor, American flag shorts, flip flops, everything. This

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.