John By Puns

Let's get digital, digital.

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Where’d my Ringo

As he puts it,

"I get by with a little help from my hens."

"I get high with a little help from my hens."

As I unwrapped it he said, "I don't want to spoil the ending, but it's to the left of Canada".

"By George, where did John Paul's ring go?"

Scene: a 13th-century feudal uprising. Rebels are besieging the castle. They manage to kill the eldest son of the Duke by knocking him off the ramparts with a lucky trebuchet volley, using as a payload the severed head of a peasant. It was the first serf-face-to-heir missile. (h/t John Garison)

The Pillsbury Doughboy, remembered best as "Pop N Serve", and/or "Pop N Fresh", died yesterday of a severe yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly. He was 71.

Doughboy will be buried in this lightly greased coffin.

Dozens of celebrities will turn out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.

The grave site is expected to be piled high with flours.

Aunt Jemima will deliver the eulogy and lovingly describe Doughboy as "a man who never knew how much he was kneaded".

Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers.. He was considered a very smart cookie, but wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes.

Despite being a little flaky at times, he still was a crusty old man and was considered a positive roll model for millions.

Doughboy is survived by his wife, Play dough, three children: John Dough, Jane Dough and Dosey Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop tart.

The funeral will be held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.

Two friends walk into a bookstore After bying 23 pens 2 balloons and a pipeline One of them goes to the till Suddenly he remembers

• John do you want a pencil?
• Yes
• 2B or not 2B?

Doors opened by itself, Shower turned on by itself and many other unexplained activities.

i come to the conclusion that it was John Cena

The year is 1541 and the French have just begun colonization in North America. Young Jean-Luc is in his newly crafted home when suddenly his friend Jean-Pierre bursts through his front door. 'Jean Luc!' he exclaims. 'You weel nevar believe! I 'ave 'eard word of a bacon tree!'. Jean-Luc looks confused and scoffs 'Imposseeble! You cannot grow BaycON on a tree!'. 'Come! And I weel show you ze bacon tree!'. So Jean-Luc & Jean-Pierre set off down the river, with Jean-pierre providing direction to the enigmatic 'bacon tree'. Finally, they pulled over onto a small beach that lead to a large forest. 'Stay 'ere and watch ze canoe, and I weel bring ze bacon back from ze bacon tree!' said John-Pierre. Hours go by and John-Pierre hasn't returned. As night falls, and Jean-Luc is about to enter the forest to look for his friend, he hears a rustling in the nearby brush, to which Jean-Pierre stumbles out, bloody and with arrows through his legs and arms. 'Jean-Pierre! What 'appened!!' exclaimed Jean-luc. 'Turns out it was not a bacOn tree.....it was an 'AMBUSH!!!'

Yep, grandma got run over by a John Deere.

A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Every word out of the bird’s mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity. John tried and tried to change the bird’s attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to clean up the bird’s vocabulary. Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot. The parrot yelled back. John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even more rude. John, in desperation, threw up his hands, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer. For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he’d hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer. The parrot calmly stepped out onto John’s outstretched arms and said “I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I’m sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior.” John was stunned at the change in the bird’s attitude. As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird spoke up, and asked very softly : “May I ask what the turkey did?”

I'd like to thank my friend John for sending me this dumb joke

Some background, I'm taking Listening to Jazz this semester to fill my arts credit. Last week the professor talked about musicians Miles Davis and John Coltrane, and their albums Kind of Blue and A Love Supreme.

During class he was trying to explain to us what the difference between different kinds of jazz were. So he pulled all the students wearing blue and asked each student he pulled to describe their shade of blue. I was picked and when it was my turn, I just looked at him and said "My shirt looks... Kind of Blue" referencing a Miles Davis' album. My professor double face palmed and was so disgusted by me I almost felt bad for laughing. He threatened to give me a 3 page essay on why that was the worst answer I could've given.

A pair of friars came up with the great idea to use the extra flowers scattered around the monastery to start a flower shop. After the first week, the new flower shop is bustling and quickly becomes the most popular flower shop in town. This upsets a fellow florist, John, because he is losing his business. John decides to go down to the docks and find someone to destroy the competition's flower shop. John ends up finding a large sailor by the name of Hugh. Hugh promptly goes and completely destroys the friars' flower shop, effectively putting the friars out of business. Once again proving that only Hugh can prevent florist friars.

and things are going great for the first few days, handling deliveries, putting cuts into and out of storage, etc. After his first week, coming in at 8am to work with the Butcher's supervision, the Butcher decides that he can trust John with a little more responsibility. The Butcher is a bit of a perfectionist and he tells John that he has to be there by 6am Monday morning because a delivery of fresh beef was due to arrive at 6:15 and it needed storage and processing immediately. John was incredibly excited and set extra alarms Monday. He snoozes his 5am alarm, but his 5:15 alarm gets him going, and he arrives at the shop at 5:55, tired and slightly panicked. He gets into the back room and takes a catnap.

He is shaken awake at 7:45am by the Butcher, who is asking where the cuts are. The deliveryman didn't see John and so the beef wasn't delivered or cut. The Butcher was incredibly disappointed in John, and had to fired him because he had caused too many missed steaks.

John Deavensmit was not having a good time. After an incident involving a coffee spill, he'd been sued for $50 million, and somehow the jury had ruled against him. There was no way he could pay that much money; he'd go bankrupt.

Naturally, he filed for an appeal, but the winner of the case was already beginning to hound him for money, hoping to get at least something before the judgement was overturned. John was nearly at his wit's end before he found an unusual package in his mailbox.

It was from a couple of his friends, who all went on to law school when John left to create a startup. They'd all been very successful, and had gone on to be justices at various levels, from courts in a small county in Wisconsin all the way to the Supreme Court. When he opened it up, he was surprised to see an ink drawing of a thick wooden stick. It was signed by his friends, and accompanied by a note:

> Hey John, > > We're sorry to hear about your loss in court last month. We met up at a judge conference in the Davison Center, and we thought that we'd do something special for you. We met up in the Grapefruit Room and all worked together to draw this. We hope you enjoy it! > > Your friends

Now, John had been to D.C. a few times, and knew about the Davison Centre. It was renowned for its very offbeat architecture. The Grapefruit Room was one of the weirdest: it had been constructed by taking a world-record grapefruit, carving out the flesh, and preserving the rind. The result was a walk-in fruit, and it always smelled of citrus.

It took John a while to work out the significance of the gift, but when he realized it, he was overjoyed. His good friends had seen fit to grant him a stave judge-men penned in a peel.

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

It's been a while since my first post, but its hard to remember all the dad jokes that fly around our assembly line after working all night. Anyway, on to the joke:

The 3 usual dads on my line (Paul, Kevin, and myself) were talking when were approached by John carrying a step ladder. "This is my step ladder. I never new my real ladder." Then walked away as we all howled with laughter.

Hopefully post can be more frequent. I have considered writing this stuff down.

I attended a Decemberists concert this evening. Before the encore, the drummer, John, insisted that he tell us a joke.

"Did you hear about the pig who had a cut on his leg? Yeah, his friend came by and asked, 'Would you like me to get you some OINK-ment?'"

The only sound that followed was that of myself clapping.

Picture this.

A fancy Christmas dinner party at his new wife's opulent, sandstone estate house. Plates are being cleared from the lengthy, mahogony table that seats the fourteen well-to-do guests, the main course having just finished. All have feasted gloriously on our Christmas fare.

My Dad, playing the good host, picks up two bottles of wine, one white and one red, and proceeds to do a round of the table, chatting amiably with everyone as he circles. Those whose glasses are less than 90% full, he proceeds to top-up. I am sitting in the very centre of the long table, seated directly opposite a very well off lady in her early sixties, by the name of Margaret. My dad, having just topped off my glass, is now standing directly behind me.

This older woman, full of grace and charm, looks to my Dad and says, "Thank you so much for this glorious meal, John. It's been simply divine."

My Dad, "Not at all, Margaret, not at all. Could I charge your glass?"

Margaret, "Oh, no no, thank you. I've got the bottle in front of me!"

My Dad, quick of wit, and with a sneaky - yet charming - grin on his face, responds, "Ah, well, better that than a frontal lobotomy!"

I've never been more proud of him.

My wife was talking about her mom's car getting hit by a deer.

She said people were making the joke "I hope you got the deer's insurance!"

I said "Maybe they're from New Hampshire if they didn't have insurance."

Our girlfriend piped up and said "Maybe they were a John Doe!"

Walked in on my roommate listening to All of Me by John Legend whole touching his stomach with each piano note.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I'm playing my organs with the song," he said.

A massive groan ensued.