Local H Puns

A man entered ten puns in a local newspapers pun contests. He hope that at least one of his puns would when. But unfortunately No pun in-ten-did.

We were driving around town and I was pointing out to him all the happening spots when he casually said, "looks pretty dead in here."

I look over to see him gesturing towards the local graveyard...

That my local prosthetics shop is changing hands.

Did you guys know that the guy who was recently pepper sprayed by Portland's mayor is a big dairy heir?

So I've been wanting to sell my motorcycle for a while but haven't gotten around to it.

While in the car this morning I saw a sign for a local shop that read "We buy used motorcycles." I pointed it out to her and she replies with, "if that's not a sign, I don't know what is."

I was so proud.

His wife always complained that he wasn't good enough in bed and that she wasn't satisfied. He went to the local bar to get a drink and cool off for a bit. On reaching the bar, he ordered a beer and sat down. His friend, Mike saw him sitting alone and walked up to him. He asked Andy what happened to which Andy told him the situation. Mike said that he had a simple trick which never failed and told Andy to hit his meat on the bedpost three times before sex. Andy rushed home to perform this trick. He saw that his wife was lying on the bed with the lights off. Slowly he took off his pants and hit his meat three times on the bedpost. Dum, dum, dum. His wife immediately woke up and shouted, "Mike, is that you?"

...and ends up on the Island of Trid. The people there are starving and explain to the pastor that it’s because whenever they try to harvest the fruit at the top of the mountain, the nasty giant comes out of his cave and boots them all back down the hill. This infuriates the pastor who then declares that tomorrow he will join them on their next attempt. The next day they all march up the mountain together, and sure enough, out comes the giant who proceeds to kick all of the locals back down the hill leaving only the new guy to gather fruit at his leisure. Finally, he stops and asks the giant, “Well, aren’t you going to knock me off the mountain?”. Shaking his head, the giant says, “Silly rabbi, kicks are for Trids”.

We got to talking and I found out she worked as a stunt double on some pretty big name movie sets. She looked to be at least 10 years my senior but very fit and attractive and we both seemed to really be hitting it off.

Because all the immediate family in the local area had thrown a smaller, more private celebration for my father a few days prior, I didn't really feel a need to stick around any longer, so I asked the woman if she was interested in sharing some drinks with me at the nearby Hilton where I was staying. She happily accepted.

Suddenly, I turned towards the sound of my father's voice cheerfully calling out the name "Andra" (pronounced ON-druh) and my own as he approached. Andra, the woman I had been speaking with, turned towards him, glanced quickly back at me, then looked back again at my father and with a disconcerted look on her face exclaimed, "Oh brother!"

And that's when I realized the double, Aunt Andra.

They’re still fairly local

Quaran-teen

Source: My local mechanic, bless his heart

http://imgur.com/gallery/XYWedTN

Be aware We ordered a Chinese takeaway from a local place (I won't name them) I went to pick it up last night and as I was driving home, I heard the bags rustling and moving!!WTF??!!! I thought what the hell is that. Has something got in the bag, I thought I could see a little pair of eyes peering out at me. I was driving so I leaned forward, picked up the bag, put it on the passenger seat and there it was again, more rustling and little eyes looking out behind the prawn crackers, I thought its got to be a rat or a mouse or something, so I carefully pulled the bag down ... And there it was ... ... A Peeking Duck!!!

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

1. How dense the local population is
2. How dense the local population is

Fiancé: Oh, I didn't realise she was ordering packages.

Me: She must've gone to the bank to get herself a debit card.

Fiancé: Nah, she just went to the neighbours tree.

Me: Huh?

Fiancé: The local branch.

The locals are the best. They didn’t have any. They need to Polish up their Pole dancers.

...and a lifetime ban from the local zoo.

Rowan Atkinson is travelling through mexico , decides to have lunch at a local restaurant. He orders a burrito . when full Rowan still has a little bit of food left on his plate , he takes his plate up to the waitress and says "that is the nicest burrito I've ever had, thank you" The waitress points at Tthe left over food and says " but you missed a bean"

I used to have a black cat named Big Guy. When I left for college, he stayed with my parents. One day I got a call from my mom and she mentioned he was missing. They hadn't seen him in a week. He was an indoor/outdoor cat and would occasionally disappear for a few days, but a whole week was unusual.

Anyway, I was bummed. I was set to visit the next week and was looking forward to seeing my cat.

I flew home and... it was weird. Now they had two cats! Both black. And Big Guy was back! But... why two cats now?

So here's the dad part. My mom started to really miss him. My dad saw this and went to the local shelters to see if anyone turned him in. He said, "After the 3rd one, I pretty much gave up."

So then my mom said, "So your father got another cat he thought looked "close enough" and tried to convince me it was Big Guy. I said, 'Have you lost it? This cat is a GIRL!'"

Then Big Guy came home.

A few years ago, we started a show that I quite frankly never thought would work.

Nearly four years later, including two sold out appearances at San Francisco Sketchfest and a local TV featurette, our show "Capitol PUNishment" is now streaming on Twitch Friday night at 8:30pm PST.

I hope it's ok to post this in here. If not, feel free to remove with no hard feelings. Just encouraging pun lovers to check out what is best described as "a fast-paced, in-the-moment spectacle that combines everything you love about gameshows, rap-battles, and "dad" jokes, into a unique and hilarious competitive format."

Our channel is twitch.tv/capitolpuns
Here's a little video to help paint the picture: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2RE9PgmfXo

It was somewhere around the 6th century after the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, an Anglish man was travelling through Normandy when he sees a local labouring the fields, and asks:

"Hello. What does it take to become a mercenary amongst your King's regiments?"
"Not that much - to be Frank."
"I see. I better give up then.

My doctor has prescribed me an ace inhibitor for my blood pressure

This was from a conversation my wife and I had yesterday. She asked me why I always go to Lowe’s instead of the local hardware store seeing as I’m all about supporting local businesses. I told her it’s because I take lisinopril and it’s an ace inhibitor.

In my opinion we should beat the shit out of constipated people because:

1. Laxatives are an unhealthy way of dealing with feces. On the other hand, beating the shit out of someone is a good way to practice sports activities like, running, grip strength, punching techniques etc.

2. Other methods of dealing with feces take alot of money. Laxatives aren't cheap in our flawed healthcare system! On the other hand, there are people that are willing to pay you to beat the shit out of you. By using this method you can become richer and deal with your shitty problems.

3. Constipation requires being in the bathroom for a long time. This can be very lonely for the people involved. However, beating the shit out of others can be done in any place. Your home, the local park, or even the shady street corner! Not only that it's a very social activity, requiring a minimum of at least 2 people, but usually done in groups of 2-5 people.

Although some people might say, that beating the shit out of each other is violent, most of them have never been to a public toilet and hence are unable to realize how much more painful and violent the alternative is.

In summery, beating the shit out of people is a good, legitimate, and affordable alternative to laxatives and is a better, more progressive way, to deal with constipation.

the local origami society has folded.

"No sir it'll be round."

*joke courtesy of a local restaurant

I got thrown out of a local park for aligning squirrels in order of height. They didn't like me critter sizing.

It’s my local small arms dealer

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

and now he's banned from our local zoo.

One evening Jake stole Joke’s bag and hid it just at the edge of a forest nearby. Next morning he told him what he had done and to be careful not to go far into the forest since it’s riddled with bears once you go into the deep forest part and you are sure to get eaten.

Since Joke didn’t return for a long period of time, Jake went looking for him. However, he couldn’t find his friend. Jake, feeling remorse, called the police and told them what had happened.

Unfortunately, the police were no help and the case started to gain traction with the media. Reporters from all the nearby villages wanted to be the one to crack the case and find Joke.

Jake slowly spiraled into despair, not knowing what happened, thinking he killed his friend and all he wanted was some answers, buying all the local newspapers every day hoping to read something new and gain some answers.

Day after day the event slowly slipped out of his mind as time went by with no new information whatsoever. Until one day, Jake decided to put this whole thing behind him and found a therapist to help him move on.

The therapy was a huge success, he completed all but one meetings and he had just one more to go. He arrived on time as always, but the therapist’s office was locked this time. Jake checked his mobile phone and he saw a message from his therapist that he’s gonna be a few minutes late and that he should sit down in the waiting room, relax, and wait for him.

Jake, as any reasonable person, sat down in the waiting room and started waiting. It was at this moment that his phone battery ran out and he became bored, very bored, so he picked up a random newspaper from the table in front of him and then he saw it, the headline he was waiting for for so long:

Joke gone too far.

I asked a local girl for her number and she kept telling me it was 9 9 9.

One says it's Lewis-Ville. The next one says the locals say Lew-ville and the last one says they say Lewie-ville. After arguing for a few minutes they see a place to get some lunch. They all agree it would be great to hear how the locals pronounce the name of their city. They all go up to the counter and one says, could you tell me where we are and please say it slowly. BURR-GURR-KIIING!!!

In 1827, after Beethoven died, he was buried outside the local church, in the graveyard, and people came to pay their respects frequently.

One morning, about a week after the funeral, two girls came to leave some flowers on his grave, only to hear strange, unearthly sounds coming from it. Creeped out, they called for the local Paranormal Investigator.

The Investigator arrived an hour later, and with him, a small crowd, who had come to see what was happening to the composer’s grave.

Suddenly, one member of the crowd exclaimed, “I recognise that sound! It’s his 9th Symphony, backwards!”

Soon after, another said, “and that’s his 8th, backwards!”

After leaning closer to the grave to inspect this for himself, the Investigator straightened himself up, gave a soft chuckle, and said:

“Never fear, ladies and gentlemen! Beethoven’s just decomposing.”

RETIRED HUSBAND

After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to WalMart. Unfortunately, like most men; I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - she loves to browse. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter, from the local WalMart:

Dear Mrs. Harris:

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion, in our store.

We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to, ban both of you from the store.

Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Harris, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras:

1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking.

2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.

4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, 'Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away'. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money. We don't have a Code 3.

5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.

6. August 14: Moved a, 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?' EMTs were called.

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while, loudly humming the, 'Mission Impossible' theme.

12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his, 'Madonna Look' using different sizes of funnels.

13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled 'PICK ME! PICK ME!'

14. October 22: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed;

'OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!'

15. Took a bo

So I'm at a local garage sale, and I can't help myself, I have to look into the free bin.

there, staring back at me was a guitar without any strings on it... and of coarse the dad joke of a lifetime.

A sign that read "free guitar, no strings attached." :D

We were catering this morning at a local breakfast event. After we cleaned up we hung out in the kitchen and she was talking about a wooden table that was there too.

Her: "I think this thing is amazing. I think that's for beating meat" (not what you think)

Me: "I'd use a hammer for that"

A man fancies himself skilled at writing puns, so when a local newspaper offered $5000 to whomever could write the best pun, the man thought he'd make some quick cash. He spent the next day writing puns and picked out the ten best ones to send in to the newspaper. He figured that at least one of the ten he submitted would win, but sadly, no pun in ten did.

Local tribes in fear of a zombee apocalypse

There was a man who entered a local newspaper pun contest. He sent in ten different puns the hope that at least one of the puns would win. Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.

We ordered a Chinese last from a local place in downtown (we won't name them) went to pick it up and as I was driving home, heard the bags rustling and moving!!!

I thought what on earth is that? Has something got in the bag? I thought I could see a little pair of eyes peering out.

I was driving so pulled over, I leaned forward, picked up the bag, put it on the passenger seat and there it was again, more rustling and little eyes looking out behind the chili beef.

I thought its got to be a rat or a mouse or something, so I carefully pulled the bag down ...

And there it was ...

A Peeking Duck