He has a tiara, a mood ring, a special locket and an unhealthy infatuation with a famous teenage boy!
It will be written in a pistol-ary format
…because I can fill it in
(probably not original but I thought about it so…sorry about the English)
I’m putting together a collection of dad jokes in a journal to gift my husband when we have our first child, hopefully within the next year. He’s famous among our friends and family for corny jokes, and I even referenced this in my wedding vows haha. Thank you for all the incredible dad jokes to add to this collection! For the record, here’s my husband’s favorite joke:
How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?
TENTACLES!!
I told him "One more and it'll be truly gross"
The editor said it was not current at all, but more of a period piece!
It's some real hard hitting stuff..
I must be allergic to diary
But it’s still under review
Hard-hatting journalism.
He was always going on about those damn tree-huggers.
He’s very passionate about current events.
...it's pier reviewed.
Runs until Friday.
I read that in a medical journal on page 34 at 12:22 pm on September 23rd of last year.
Just reading the the wall street journal. Stop and Go grocers and PDQ gas ⛽️ are merging. They will now be called. Stop and P
Context: I'm in a DnD campaign, for fifth edition.
So basically, one of my characters told a horrible pun to a planetar (Massive angel-like being) over Sending (A spell letting you communicate over long distances). "Whaddya call a celestial who likes to fish? An angel-er." and then he got asked to put his journal in the box that suddenly appeared behind hm, He complied, and when he got it back his name was gone from the first page of the book, and there was a golden box, that read "Tell me what I've pun, wizard" So I'm assuming he needs to answer in some sort of pun related to his name, Klaus Hallowmantle.
However, my brain is smoother than... I can't think of anything to compare it to all of a sudden. Oh well. Anyone who can help me with this?
I really want to have a daughter and name her Zelda.
I imagine, as she gets older she will spend all her time writing sick poetry and rhymes in her journal, growing her hair down to her back, not to spite me, but so she can donate it later, and expand her wit by studying improv comedy through highschool.
As she becomes famous, I hope she will invite me to one of her rap battles and put me in the front row. My heart will grow as she takes the stage, but fatherly intuition tells me something is wrong...Zelda is frozen at the microphone.
I see her up on the stage, eyes alight with fright, hair pulled tight into a bun. She and I lock eyes, a moment of silence passes and serenity slowly enters...THIS is the moment we have been waiting for all our lives.
Looking up calmly, I couldn't be more proud as I exclaim, "Rap puns, Zel. Rap puns, Zel! Let down your hair!"
In their reflection journal
No, not funny
My Bio professor was teaching us how to press plants for our field journals. He kicked off the lecture with:
"Well, let's get down to the pressing business, shall we?"
Out of a room of twenty people, one person laughed. That person was me.
The would-be mentor insisted on going to a seafood restaurant and then he ordered his favorite meal for the both of them. When the hard working, fresh-out-of-journalism-school grad asked the veteran newshound how he always managed to get witty phrases from the Prime Ministers and Presidents he interviewed, a sly smile swam across his face.
Intrigued, she watched intently while he reached for his wallet then removed a €5 note. Holding it toward her face over the table, she was surprised when the greying beat writer dropped the money directly on her uneaten dinner and held an index finger to his closed lips.
As they both looked down at the seafood platter, his paper Euro was suddenly sucked under the rings of fried calamari until it disappeared from sight. After what sounded like a stand-up comedian clearing his throat, a male voice with an Eastern European accent clearly rose out of her food. It said, "Trump asked for dirt on Biden so I sent him some good Ukrainian topsoil."
As the gobsmacked gal with mouth agape slowly raised her eyes to her grinning dinner guest's face, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "squid pro quote".
Required Explanation: "squid pro quote" is a play on words for the saying "quid pro quo", a Latin phrase meaning "something for something". In the news at the time of this posting a tremendous amount of discussion is being circulated about whether or not US president Trump dangled a quid pro quo offer in front of Ukraine's newly elected president, Volodymyr Zelensky. The deal had nothing to do with seafood however, so that was just a red herring. It should also be noted that Mr. Zelensky, before diving into politics, was a stand-up comedian.
The Wall Street Journal
From the Wallstreet Journal newscast. No pun intended.
A bullet journal.
Everyone knows the Pythagorean theorem, but few people know that Pythagoras was an avid and accomplished explorer who visited the new world before the Vikings or Columbus ever laid eyes on the continent. On one of his early visits he encountered a village and happened upon a woman, heavily pregnant sitting on the hide of a bear. He asked her what she was doing and she told him that she wanted to give birth on the hide so that her child would have the strength of a bear when he was born. As he walked further into the main part of the village he saw another woman, again quite pregnant sitting on the hide of a deer. When asked she replied that she wanted her child to have the grace and agility of a deer. Seeing a trend he was taken aback when he saw a very pregnant woman sitting on the hide of a hippopotamus. Surprised both at the choice and at the existence of such a creature, he wondered what she must wish for her child, but she replied that there just weren’t any other hides available for her so she took what she could get.
Many years later when he returned to the same village, he encountered the first woman and asked about her child. Was he as strong as a bear? She pointed him out and sure enough, her son was busy ripping a stump out of the ground with his hands, as strong as a bear! Amazed, he sought out the second woman, who pointed out her son, running through a field at great speed, as graceful and agile as a deer! Intrigued to say the least, Pythagoras sought the third woman. She pointed out her son, and he didn’t believe his eyes - he was both as strong as a bear and as graceful as a deer; a mountain of a man with grace and poise.
He wrote in his now-famous travel journal his amazing discovery; that the sons of the squaws on the two smaller hides are equal to that of the squaw on the hippopotamus.
I'm currently running my players through a D&D adventure titled "Curse of Strahd".
Last session, my players found a journal revealing details about the main villain, Count Strahd Von Zarovich. When they acquired it, I passed the adventure book over--opened up to an illustration depicting the journal's pages--and one of the players proceeded to read. After struggling for a bit, he said, "I'm having a tough time reading this cause it's so cursive."
Yes," I responded. "It's the cursive Strahd."
I had that one chambered and ready for weeks, just waiting for the right moment.
What my players don't know is that I'm also going to include a few other bits of flavor for my them to find as they progress through the game:
- A fancy handbag with the initials "SVZ" hammered into the leather... the "purse of Strahd"
- A grave in which the Von Zarovich family nanny is buried... the "nurse of Strahd"
- A carriage very obviously built to accommodate Strahd's coffin... the "hearse of Strahd"
- A book full of poetry written during Strahd's younger days, before he was consumed by darkness... the "verse of Strahd"
So my daughter is in a group that lets one kid take home a stuffed owl for a week, and write in a book about what activities they did with the owl, and return it for the next kid to take home.
This past week was her turn, and it’s due to go back tomorrow evening. So tonight while getting ready for bed I casually remind my wife that tomorrow was the deadline and to remember to write in the journal.
I say “I wrote it on the white board so that we all have a chance to remember”
She replies “You may have to text me from work “remember the owl””
So I go to the next room and text right then and there: “Remember the Owl-amo!”
I could hear an audible groan
