Long Story Puns

I became a film editor.

Fin

A couple of years ago, one night, I was about to propose to my girlfriend when my roommate Joseph barged into the porch out of nowhere, tripped and fell over, breaking a glass table with his face. Totally ruined the mood. Now, I didn't know Joseph THAT well, don't even remember where he was from, but let' just say I put my plans on hold to help him through his injuries.

Joseph had gotten big glass shard in his eye, making him completely blind in that eye. He was walking around with one of those cotton pads on his eye for a couple of months. Then suddenly, he disappeared, along with my girlfriend

Apparently they'd bonded during the time after his injuries, and eloped together , left me behind without as much as a note. I tried to track them down, but never could.

In conclusion, if it hadn't been for cotton eye Joe, I'd have been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, cotton eye Joe?

It's old butt gold.

I love summaries.

It was a bit pointless.

I told them it was one hour long.

It's a hare piece.

Wife was pleased and called it a nice surprise. "No," I corrected her, "it's an ice surprise."

that builds up to a horrible pun, then check out /r/feghoot!

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

So my dad's telling my relatives the story of how my mom was in labor for 12 hours so they named me 'Laura' which if you say it in Vietnamese accent it's 'Lau-ra' which means "Long time to come out"...

IMAGINE FINDING OUT AFTER 21 YEARS YOUR NAME IS A FUCKING PUN ..

So I turned it into wine.

His son asked him why the book was so fat. The father replied "It's a long story"

We got a long well.

My Dad has recently shown a fascination with space and NASA. Long story short, Christmas is coming up and my plan is to surprise him with an all expense paid trip to Florida for 4 days with passes to the Kennedy Space Center. I’d schedule it around a launch so he would be able to see it in person. As well as checking out the area a bit since we’re there.

Which is where I need your help! I want to coordinate hints with presents that slightly hint at the trip. For example, I picked out a NASA tshirt, a space shuttle plush toy, assorted astronaut ice cream, socks that have planets and a rocket on them, mug that says “coolest dad in the galaxy,” a map/atlas of florida, and luggage tags. And the final gift I’m thinking will be a letter that puts all the clues together and would include the plane tickets, car rental agreement, hotel confirmation, and the admission tickets in an envelope.

Can anyone give me ideas on what hints to use??

• I’m still adding/taking away present ideas so if anyone has any better ideas please let me know!!

Thank you so much!! Any type of help is appreciated!! I don’t really have that “creative” part of the mind... whether it be a rhyme or dad joke-y type hint, it doesn’t matter!

Me: Well, it’s ......a long story.

A man named Dave comes home very drunk late at night...

So this guy has been drinking with his buddies all night and he's as drunk as a skunk, gets home, falls up the stairs, undresses and goes to bed next to his wife. He falls asleep and next thing he knows, bang, he dies and finds himself waiting at the pearly gates.

The guy refuses to believe this is happening, he says to St. Peter: "This can't be possible, I'm a healthy man! This is not the way I die. You have to let me return down there!"
The guy can see St. Peter looks like he's feeling sorry for him, but he tells him that unfortunately, there's no policy for allowing people back on Earth. The guy insists: "But come on, there's got to be something you can do! I'll put up with anything, really, as long as you let me go back down."
So St. Peters tells him: "Well really, there's just this one possibility: you can go back, but only as a hen. That's the only thing we can allow." The guy guesses that this really is his only chance, so he agrees reluctantly.
So he's back on Earth in this beautiful chicken coop, the sun is shining, there's green grass everywhere, this is hen paradise. The other hens greet him with delight and he tells them his story, everything goes nicely. But then he feels kind of unwell, there's something wrong with his stomach. He asks this old hen: "Tell me, I've got this weird feeling in my belly, I'm not too well. What is happening to me?"

The old hen: "Well dearie, we hens lay eggs, you know. I bet you've never laid a nice egg before... You need to push it out now, and you'll feel much better after!"
So the guy pushes and pushes, and wham, out pops his first egg. The old hen congratulates him and he feels much better. But not 5 minutes later, his pain comes back. He returns to the old hen for advice.

"Well dearie, it's quite special but it happens that you need to lay TWO eggs, so go back there and keep pushing!"
So he goes back to his nest and pushes, and nothing comes, and he pushes harder, and wham, out comes his second egg! He feels much better, but not 2 minutes later, you guessed it, he's back in terrible pain and goes to see the old hen.

"What's this bullshit here, and don't tell me I've got a third egg to lay!" The old hen can't make head or tail of it and just tells him that when in doubt, he should be pushing. So the guy goes back to work and then, wham, his wife wakes him up with this smashing slap in the face and yells: "*Dave! Dave wake up you’re

It’s a long story.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

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

It’s not a long story, but it’s deep.

Long story short.

Actually, nevermind long story.

....First he goes to rent a tux, but there’s a long tux line at the shop and it takes forever.

Next, he has to get some flowers, so he heads over to the florist and there’s a huge flower line there. He waits forever but eventually gets the flowers.

Then he heads out to rent a limo. Unfortunately, there’s a large limo line at the rental office, but he’s patient and gets the job done.

Finally, the day of the prom comes. The two are dancing happily and his girlfriend is having a great time. When the song is over, she asks him to get her some punch, so he heads over to the punch table and there’s no punchline.

“It’s long story,” replies the father.

He said. “Sorry. That was a long winded story.”

My Step dad told me this one about 25 years ago (I was around 12?) and I've loved it, and dad jokes, ever since.....

A guy named Benny was walking down the beach when he found a magic lamp.

When he rubbed the lamp, a genie came out and said he got three wishes. However, he must agree to never shave again. If he did, he would become an urn.

Benny wished for riches, women and a VERY long life.

Years upon years had passed; and Benny's beard was so long it was difficult to manage. He decided that surely the genie who had granted his wishes so long ago had forgotten about him, and so he shaved his beard off.

POOF!!

He was an urn.

What's the moral of the story?

A Benny shaved is a Benny urned.

Not quite as tragic, but it manifested into something which has haunted me at my job for years.

When I was a little kid learning about the world around me, my dad was naturally the font of all knowledge for me, He would answer all of little snippersmith's questions with his own unique insights and anecdotes teaching me of my surroundings with varying degrees of accuracy.

One day In a picture book, I encountered a photo of one of natures most bizarre creatures, the mighty duck billed platypus. Filled with curiosity of this bizarre creature and an Inability to read a young snippersmith asked his father what this creature was called, To which his father replied,

That's a Quackopotamous.....

As is a highly likely situation in day to day life the Platypus (or indeed the Quackopotamous), did not come into conversation for another 17 years, Until of course the Platypus came into conversation around the lunch table at a now grown up snippersmith's full time place of work.

I have not been allowed to forget I thought the Platypus was called a Quackopotamous, Indeed I am reminded on a daily basis by my colleagues, by my nickname Quackopotamous .

Thanks Dad.

EDIT 1: Holy Cow this took off! Gold! thank you so much.

It's a long story...

It’s a long story...

...it's a long story

He said, "I usually tell her a long and pointless story"

I became a film editor

the end

Just take the elevator

The end.

It's a long story..

Dad : It's a long story

From r/Technicallythetruth

I told him It's a long story

Dad: it’s a long story.

"Well, son," I told him. "Sit down, because it's a long story."

Long story short, they didn't fit.