In Which We Serve Puns

Having a small party for my guitar and music obsessed soon-to-be 3 year old. Wanted to put some signs next to the food to make it more on-theme. We’ll be serving:

Chicken nuggets PB&Js (in the shape of guitars) Veggie tray Fruit tray Water & juice

I’m struggling to think of stuff. So far I only have Nirvana Nuggets (which I realize isn’t even a pun) and PB&J Richie Samboraches. Lame, I know 😂 Help me out if you can think of any more!

A rope walks into a bar and orders a drink. The bartender scowls and says “We don’t serve ropes in here!”

The rope stares back and says “I’m not a rope!”

Flabbergasted the bartender says “You’re not?!”

To which the rope replies “No, I’m a frayed knot”

There was, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.

“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”

“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.

“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”

“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”

His students registered dismay and anguish.

“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.

“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.

“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”

Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi

To celebrate, we invited all the family and friends we could to my parents' house and then made the big announcement. Everyone was ecstatic and my father in particular was driven to tears. At a certain point during the night he pulled me aside and led me into his study, which I had never really been inside until this point. He opened a safe and produced cigars a bottle of whiskey and a large, beautifully bound book.

"I could never have asked for a better son," my father said, lighting the cigars and pouring the whiskey. "I hope you think I was a good enough father to deserve you."

"Of course, Dad," I said, "You were all I could've asked for and I wish my son admires me even half as much as I admire you."

"Now I've shared with you nearly everything I know," he said, "But not this one thing. This is the Big Book of Dad Jokes. There are many like it but this one is special. My father gave it to me when your mother and I first found out she was pregnant with you, and I studied it and studied it, learning all the dad jokes I could and mastering book's secrets. I hope it serves you as well as it served me in being a father... No... I know it will serve you well. I love you, my son."

"Dad... I don't know what to say... I'm honoured..."

"Hi Honoured, I'm Dad."

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

He asks for a drink, and the bartender responds sorry but we don't serve your kind here. So he calmly walks back outside, ruffles out the top of his head and turns himself around and over then walks back inside and back to the bartender. The bartender eyes him suspiciously and says, aren't you the rope that was just in here a second ago? To which he says no, I'm a frayed knot.

Funniest horse puns and jokes

A white horse walks into a pub and asks for a whisky. The landlord says: “Hey, we’ve got a whisky named after you.” The horse replies: “What, George?”

A horse trudges slowly into a pub and orders a drink. “Evenin’” says the barman, “why the long face?”

A horse walks into a smart cocktail bar. The doorman says: “Wait you can’t come in here without a tie.”The horse goes out to his car, looks in the boot and gets a set of jump leads, which he ties around his neck.He goes back in and says to the barman: “This alright?” The barman says: “Hmm, ok… but don’t be starting anything.”

A poorly-looking horse limps into a bar with a bandage round his head. He orders a glass of champagne, a vintage brandy and two pints of Guinness. He downs the lot and says to the barman: “I shouldn’t really be drinking this with what I’ve got?” “Why, what have you got?” “About £2 and a carrot.”

Which side of a horse has more hair? The outside What’s a horse’s favourite TV show? Neighbours

A racehorse owner takes his horse to the vet. “Will I be able to race this horse again?,” he asks The vet replies: “Of course you will, and you’ll probably win!”

Did you hear about the depressed horse? He told a tale of whoa!

A dead horse walks into a bar and orders a whisky.

“I’m sorry, sir,” says the barman. “We don’t serve spirits..

A talking horse walks into a bar and approaches the manager. “Excuse me, good sir,” the horse says, “are you hiring?” The manager looks the horse up and down and says, “Sorry, pal. Why don’t you try the circus?” The horse nickers. “Why would the circus need a bartender?”

Did you hear about the man who was hospitalized with six plastic horses inside him? The doctor described his condition as stable.

What did the horse say when it fell? “I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!”

Q. What does it mean if you find a horseshoe? A. Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

A man rode his horse to town on Friday. The next day he rode back on Friday. How is this possible? The horse’s name was Friday.

Why did the pony have to gargle? Because it was a little horse!

What did the horse say when it fell? I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!

What did the teacher say when the horse walked into the class? Why the long face?

What do you call a horse that lives next door? A neigh-bo

So I was on the red-eye flying overseas to meet my buddies for an epic roadtrip adventure. I got me a first class ticket because YOLO and I always wanted to try those convertible seat/beds.

So in the morning the flight attendants serve breakfast, which includes this tasty soup with poached egg in it. They offered drinks and they had champagne so I thought why the hell not.

There were delays and when we finally landed and I got to our meet up place, my mates were already there and gotten the bong out.

They said, "Where were you while we were getting high?"

"I was having..." and I turned to them, took my sunglasses off, and said, "champagne, soup and ova in the sky."

Two ropes walked into a bar, bartender says "We don't serve your kind here!" One of the ropes runs outside, messes up his hair, walks back in and the bartender says to him "I thought I told you we don't serve your kind here," to which the rope says "Nope, I'm a frayed knot"

So I work in a cafeteria/catering service for a billion dollar company, I serve executives of said company.. Today we had a very good kale salad which garnered a bunch of compliments.. One lady asked how we made it..

I responded with a "it's a secret, if I told you I'd have to kale you!"

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.

Ok so my Dad was helping me move into my new uni accommodation last month and in the process we had to carry a lot of heavy boxes up my rather steep stairs.

Understandably, being a man in his 50's, he was a little bit worn out after lugging several metre-by-metre crates up to my room, generally full of heavy electrical equipment and books. After letting out a deep sigh he exhaled - 'Crikey, this is like the Great Stairs Crisis of 1965!'.

To my knowledge, or indeed to anyone else's knowledge (including my dad's), so such crisis ever occurred. I just hope he didn't hear my housemate sniggering in his room downstairs*; he does love a good dad joke.

*Ironically I've noticed that laughing at Dad jokes tends to make said Dad more depressed than when you don't, since they're usually fully aware of how bad their joke is and laughing at it only serves to remind them of the fact that people are actually paying attention to the regrettable nonsense which often leaves their mouths.