Line Shooting Puns

"Hi hungry, I'm-"

son shoots him in the heart before he can finish the awful line

with his dying breath "Hi hungry, I'm dead!"

The teacher asks the class, “ there are five birds on a power line, and you shoot two of them, how many are left?”

Johnny replies, “ none the rest flew away when they heard the shot.”

The teacher says, “ no three are left but I like the way you think.”

So then Johnny says, “ let me ask you a question. There are three women eating ice cream, one licking it, one sucking it, and one biting it, which ones married?”

The teacher says, “ the one sucking?”

Johnny says, “ no the one with the wedding ring but I like the way you think.”

It’s the herd shot round the world. I think it will be an udder disappointment. When they land we will all have ground beef.

• dad shooting from the 3 point line 💁🏻‍♂️

A guy was cutting with an acetylene torch when suddenly there is a break in the line. The acetelyne starts shooting up his arm and a stray spark ignites it. His arm bursts into flame. He starts running around the shop waving his arm around while it's on fire until someone hits him with the fire extinguisher.

After the fire is out and the EMT's arrive, the police are there taking statements from the witnesses. When the officer finishes this, he pulls out his handcuffs, goes over to the burned guy on the ground, pushes the EMT out of the way, and arrests the burned guy.

When he brings the guy to the station, the chief asks him why he arrested this guy when he clearly needs medical attention. The officer responded by saying "He was waving a firearm in public"

A police officer walks into a tattoo parlor, hoping to get something cool drawn onto his shoulder. He walks up to the artist and shows him a picture of what he wants. In large text on a ribbon it says, "Protect and Serve." Below it, is a picture of a a badge, a pair of handcuffs, and a pistol. The tattoo artist is very good at his job, and says he can get this done in one session, so the officer sits down and the artist gets started. A few hours later, the artist is just finishing up, inking the last details of his service weapon. Once the last line is inked on the trigger, the cop gets up from his chair and looks in the mirror to see his new tattoo. His face twists into a look of shock and terror, pulls out his gun and opens fire onto the tattoo artist, killing him in the process. He gets on his radio, calling for backup, and took a defensive position until a few more cops and the police chief showed to the parlor minutes later. The chief, while examining the scene asks the officer, "What the hell? Why did you shoot this guy?" The cop says, "What did you expect me to do? The guy drew a gun on me!"

My dad got sharp white cheddar cheese as a gift.

Dad - Hey Vinnythepooh come try these cheese and crackers.

Me - (stick cheese in my mouth and start chewing) Ouch, oh shoot that hurt.

Dad - What happened?!

Me - That cheese cut me it was so sharp!

Dad - You jackass thats my line!

Me - (proceed laughing hysterically)

I just recently became a dad so I've been practicing my dad jokes.

So here's the setup: I recently started working for a taxi cab company. It's surprisingly lucrative, and a shitload better than McDonalds.

So I'm working, and I'm parked in front of a bar, hoping that a fare is gonna knock on my window, when about twenty feet or so in front of me, I see a very good friend of mine. I shout, and we spend the next few minutes shooting the breeze. A fare knocks on my window, and I driver her to where she needs to go.

After, I'm driving back to that bar, and I get a call from my friend, asking if I had another fare lined up. I didn't so he told me to come back, he's got a group for me. They get in the car, and these guys start bugging the shit out of me. Which I can handle. What I can't handle is when they start dealing each other cocaine in my back seat. At that point, I'm just livid. I tell them to give me my money and get the fuck out of my car.

Later, I chat my friend up on Facebook. I tell him that I'm super-grateful that he got me a fare, but to please not ever put those particular assholes in my car again. And since our relationship is built on surreal humor and snark, I start expanding the list. Those assholes. Colombian drug lords. Justin Beiber. Kim Jong-Un. Please, no Korean dictators.

"But what about a penis-shaped potato?"

I'll admit, that one threw me for a loop. But I tell him that potatoes are fine, regardless of shape, size, color, or type.

At that point, I could almost hear him laughing as he typed "Excellent. Instead of a dictator, I'll send you with a dick tater."

I was so pissed off I had walked straight into that one.

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

I was told this belonged here..

When I was about 13 yrs old, I was playing basketball at the rec league by my house. During one of the games, an opponent was fouled. So we are lined up waiting for him to shoot his foul shots, and my coach sends in a substitute player for me. So I'm jogging towards the bench. When I get about 10-15ft away from the bench, I tripped and slide head-first into the bench. The whole gym let's out an, "ooohhh....", and just as it gets quiet, my dad stands up on the other side of the gym and like an umpire in baseball yells, "SAFE!"

After the game, I yelled at him for it. His response... "Hey, I could've called you 'out!'"

Recently, Joe has been under the slight suspicion that his wife is cheating on him. So, one day he comes home early from work, to his crap-shoot apartment on the eighth floor, and hears her scurrying around when he enters. Almost as if there's another person in the house. When he calls out her name she hollers back that she just ran into the shower. So he investigates the bedroom and encounters a shocking surprise... a pair of hands dangling from the other side of the window sill! Those of a grown man, hanging on for dear life. Infuriated at the sight of the man who's sleeping with his wife, Joe takes the bedside lamp and starts bashing the guy's fingers until he falls eight stories onto the sidewalk. Only he's still alive, writhing and broken. So Joe hauls the refrigerator from the kitchen out the window, sending it down onto the poor sucker, killing him instantly. Now the hysteria of the moment induces a fatal heart attack and Joe himself, dies. So now, as he's up at the pearly gates, St. Peter is telling all the incoming souls that in order to gain access into heaven, they need to provide a solid account of how they died. After hearing Joe's story, St. Peter allows him in. The next man in line says that he was tanning in the sun, drunk, on the roof of his apartment building when he fell off, only to catch hold of a window sill that could have saved his life, until a crazed bastard beat his fingers and threw a refrigerator onto him. St. peter tells him that he's a shoe-in. And when he asks the next guy in line how he ended up deceased, the guy replies, "...So I'm naked in a refrigerator, right?"

A train traveling through the DDR is carrying Stalin, Krushchev, and Breznev through the Urals. It breaks down.

Stalin lines up the crew of the train, the local villagers, and the passengers, and shoots every 5th person.

Krushchev lines up the survivors and gives them a rousing speech about how much better Soviet trains will run in 7 years.

Breznev sits back down, pulls the blind shut, bounces up and down in his seat, and pretends the train is still running.

The DDR politburo votes themselves out of office because the train won't run.

:D