Into The West Puns

"I'm lookin' for the man who shot my paw."

The bar tender looks a him and says "who are you looking for?" to which the dog replies "I'm looking for the guy who shot my paw".

Over the last couple of month I have become a victim to cleaver thieves while out shopping.

Here's how the scam works:

Two very good-looking 20-21 year-old girls come over to your car and offer you help unloading your bag. They both start bouncing around, their breasts almost falling out of their skimpy T- shirts. When you thank them and offer them a tip, they'll say 'No' and instead they ask you for a lift to another store. If you agree, they both want to get in the back seat.

On the way to the next store, they start undressing, until both are completely naked. When you pull over to safely correct their actions, one of them climbs into the front seat and starts crawling all over your lap, kissing you, while the other one steals your wallet!

I had my wallet stolen on January 4th, 9th,10th, twice on the 15th, 17th, 20th, 24th and 29th. Also on February 1st, 4th, 6th, 9th and 10th, March 1st and twice yesterday. Please warn all the older men you know to be on the lookout for this scam.

The best times seem to be just before lunch and about 5:30 in the evening. If you happen to get caught in this scam, be aware that you can get replacement wallets at the Dollar Store, but both west side Walmarts are completely out.

A length of freeway walked into a bar, and yelled out "I'm the meanest bit of road west of the Pesos, nobody wanna mess with me!"

Then some duplicated overpass walked into the bar. "Anybody think they're tough enough to take on this piece of transit infrastructure? Well, are ya?"

Finally a stretch of dual carriageway walked into the bar. "This bad boy is badder than all you weaklings, whaddya gonna do about it!"

As they were all glaring at each other in a Mexican standoff, some bicycle laneway walked into the bar, threw a chair out of the way and kicked over a table. "I'm the roughest, toughest, meanest, baddest piece of asphalt there is! You're all soft snowflakes! Ain't anyone who has the guts to take me on!"

The first three roadways all immediately turned to the bar and started meekly sipping their drinks, trying to look inconspicuous. The bartender asked them "What's the matter, are you going to let him get away with that? Why don't you stand up to him?"

"We aren't going to mess with him", they replied, "He's a real cycle path".

My best friend lives on the East Coast. I’m on the West. He often streams his games over Skype so I can hang out and watch. He was playing the Witcher 3, and fighting the water monster men. I said “They just want to know the shape of you,” and he coincidentally died at that moment.

He got really, really mad. I always knew my puns annoyed him a little, but when I was sad, he’d tell dumb puns he’d google to cheer me up. But he just went into a tangent on how much puns annoy him and how he doesn’t get that I keep doing them over and over again every day whenever I talk with him. Trying to stop or cut back on puns would be pretty difficult and make me sad; I love witty wordplay and commentary, and bottling it up feels awful. But apparently it really, really annoys him.

What should I do?

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

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

This might be a bit long? My family isn't the brightest of individuals.

Sister: My balls are caught in the door!

Me: LOL, WHAT?

Sister: The poof balls on my shoes.

**Grandpa**: I saw you took my junk out of your car and threw it into my car.

**Grandma**: *grins and nods*

**Grandpa**: You're so sweet.

**Grandma**: And I saw lotto tickets too.

**Grandpa**: I dunno where those came from.

**Grandma**: Uh-huh. Probably a damn $5 dollar ticket too.

**Grandpa**: No, $2.

**Me**: He doesn't know where they came from, but he knows how much they cost.

**Grandpa**: *starts adding more to my list of chores*

~

**Grandpa**: It's kinda hot in here.

**Grandma**: NO IT'S NOT, Take off your damn clothes if you're hot.

**Grandpa**: Is that all you ever want me to do, take my clothes off?!

**Me**: OH DEAR GOD, I'M RIGHT HERE.

~

**TV**: The line, "To be, or not to be. That is the question!" is from which Shakespeare play?

**Grandma**: Julius Caesar, right?

**Me**:  Wow.

~

**Me**: How can you NOT like that movie. It has WILL SMITH.

**Grandma**: *thinks* Is it that movie, and he has a partner?!

**Me**: YES. And he's in the west and there's that giant spider at the end!

**Grandma**: WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!

**ME**: I DID.

~

**Grandpa**: I need to get a tree saw.

**Grandma**: What's a tree saw...

**Me**: A TREE SAW. A saw, that saws trees. You can't simplify it anymore than that.

~

*while watching American Idol*

**Me**: Omg, that guy's nose is HUGE.

**Grandpa**: If he sniffs really hard, he could overdose on oxygen.

~

**Grandpa**: I'm looking for my camouflage underwear, but they're camouflaged so well, that I can't find them!

~

*Sister rambles on about hating cats and how they're scary*

**Me**: You're just a weenie, Tyla.

**Tyla**: Oh yeah?  Well at least Papa loves weenies!

*Me and Papa look at each other*

**Me**: I sure as hell hope Papa does NOT like weenies.

~

*As we drive home, the tornado siren goes off* 

**Kaylah**: Have you ever seen it?

**Me**: ...Seen what? 

**Kaylah**: The car with the siren.

**Me**: What in the hell are you talking about? 

**Kaylah**: Isn't the tornado siren on a car that drives around town? 

**Me**: ......

~

*While driving through Alton one morning* 

**Grandma**: Here, take a sip of this.

**Me**: Ew.  Coffee is nasty.

**Grandma**: No it isn't!  It wakes ya up, and puts hair on your chest!

~

*Grandma walks out of the bathroom and wipes her wet hands on my face* 

**Grandma*