A list of puns related to "Making Excuses"
Dad Awards
To truly capture the “Spirit of the Dad” what are some achievements you think make a True Dad?
“Fixed it!” - complete an entire home improvement project in a single trip to the hardware/lumber store.
“Gotcha!” - demonstrate the Dad Reflex by catching a toddler seconds before disaster.
“That’s my boy/girl!” - get in trouble with the SO when your son/daughter picked up a bad habit of yours, or develops your bad sense of humor/pranks.
“Here boy!” - develop a stronger bond with the new family pet than any of the kids who wanted it in the first place.
“Office time” - spend at least 30 minutes in the bathroom hiding from the kids/spouse even though you don’t actually have to go to the bathroom.
“Blame it on the dog” - make at least one passenger choke on a fart in the car.
“Really?” - have a kid/spouse completely buy in to one of your bad dad jokes. (I had my wife convinced for nearly an hour that the rumble strips on the side of the highway was called the “Brailleway” and it was for blind drivers)
“But the kids will love it!” - use the kids as justification to purchase something that you’ve always wanted.
“Try it, you’ll like it!” - introduce a kid into your hobby as an excuse to go out more often than the spouse would usually tolerate.
“Saved the day!” - prevent a meltdown by fixing the favorite toy that seemed completely destroyed.
“Animal surgeon” - conduct ‘surgery’ to patch up a favorite stuffed animal.
“Here, let me show you” - take over a video game under the guise of showing the kid how to play.
What else can you add to this list?
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡We were watching TV when she said her back was sore and the conversation went like this:
Her: My back is bothering me a little.
Me: Do you want an aleve?
Her: I mean I guess if you don't want me to stay.....
I was confused for a second till I realized what she thought I said.
This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.
One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.
One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.
One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”
The husband leans over and asks his wife, "Do you remember the first time we had sex together over fifty years ago? We went behind the village tavern where you leaned against the back fence and I made love to you." Yes, she says, "I remember it well."
OK, he says, "How about taking a stroll around there again and we can do it for old time's sake?"
"Oh Jim, you old devil, that sounds like a crazy, but good idea!" A police officer sitting in the next booth heard their conversation and, having a chuckle to himself, he thinks to himself, I've got to see these two old-timers having sex against a fence. I'll just keep an eye on them so there's no trouble. So he follows them.
The elderly couple walks haltingly along, leaning on each other for support aided by walking sticks. Finally, they get to the back of the tavern and make their way to the fence The old lady lifts her skirt and the old man drops his trousers. As she leans against the fence, the old man moves in.. Then suddenly they erupt into the most furious sex that the policeman has ever seen. This goes on for about ten minutes while both are making loud noises and moaning and screaming. Finally, they both collapse, panting on the ground.
The policeman is amazed. He thinks he has learned something about life and old age that he didn't know.
After about half an hour of lying on the ground recovering, the old couple struggle to their feet and put their clothes back on. The policeman, is still watching and thinks to himself, this is truly amazing, I've got to ask them what their secret is.
So, as the couple passes, he says to them, "Excuse me, but that was something else. You must've had a fantastic sex life together. Is there some sort of secret to this?"
Shaking, the old man is barely able to reply,"Fifty years ago that wasn't an electric fence."
DEAR NEIGHBOUR:
Hi, Fred, this is Richard, next door.
I've got a confession to make. I've been riddled with guilt for a few months & have been trying to get up the courage to tell you face-to-face. At least I'm telling you in this text, & I can't live with myself a minute longer without your knowing about this.
The truth is that, when you're not around, I've been sharing your wife, day & night. In fact, probably much more than you.
I haven't been getting it at home recently, & I know that that's no excuse. The temptation was just too great. I can't live with the guilt & hope you'll accept my sincere apology & forgive me.
Please suggest a fee for usage, & I'll pay you.
Regards, Richard
NEIGHBOUR'S RESPONSE: Fred, feeling very angry & betrayed, grabbed his gun, went next door, & shot Richard, killing him. He went back home, shot his wife, poured himself a stiff drink & sat down on the sofa and calmed down. Fred then looked at his phone & discovered a 2nd text message from Richard.
2ND TEXT MESSAGE:
Hi, Fred.
Richard here again. Sorry about the typo on my last text.
I expect you figured it out & noticed that the darned Auto-Correct had changed "wi-fi" to "wife".
Technology, huh? It'll be the death of us all.
This is the latest joke making its way around our house. My kids started it — I swear. And I’ve perpetuated it. Much to their dismay.
Typical exchange, usually around the table:
Kid: “I’m hungry.” Me: “I’m Dad. Nice to meet you, hungry.” Kid: “ARGH! I’m serious.” Me: “well, I’m still Dad, Serious.” Kid: (Thoroughly annoyed.) “Can I be excused.” Me: “Well, I’d prefer you stay Serious. If you’re not Hungry, though, you may leave the table.”
There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He
... keep reading on reddit ➡He was trying to get into a club one night, the club was busy, and when he got to the front of the line he could see the bouncer looking for an excuse to turn him away. "Sorry sir, you're just not dressed smart enough," He said, "you'll have to put on a tie."
So my dad starts walking up and down the street, asking people if he could borrow or buy their tie (he really needed to get in) but most people took him for some crazy person and turned him away. After trying for 10 minutes he saw a road side assistant car down the street. He rushed up to the operator and said "Please, I know you're not generally for this but by any chance do you have a tie I can borrow?" The serviceman replies "Sorry sir the best I can do is tie this set of jumper leads around your neck" He ties the leads around dad's neck and make it look all nice (making sure to hide the copper clips in his shirt), and dad heads back to the club. The bouncer looks him up and down again, nods and says, "You can come in, but don't start anything."
So there is this one engineer at work who always makes the kind of jokes that make you kind of groan afterwards. For instance, a little bit ago, I was trying to get into a set of drawers where we keep supplies and I say, "Excuse me, can I get in there real quick?" And he says, "But.... I don't think you'll fit!" Ba-dum-chuck! Today, I heard him come up to the receptionist to ask where a coworker went. She says, "I think he went through that door," and he's like, "Oh man! I hope he OPENED it first!"
after making a U turn, when he was pulled over by a cop.
The cop comes up to his window and said, "sir, you're driving the wrong way on this side of the road! Didn't you see the arrow?"
Without hesitating my grandfather replied "Arrow? I didn't even see the Indian!"
(This was in the late 70's so excuse the tactlessness! And was a true story, according to my dad, who was apparently in the car).
My family was going out to dinner one night at a nice steakhouse, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. As I walked up to a urinal, I saw my dad walk to the urinal beside me. We both got down to business, my dad said "So this is where all the dicks hang out huh?" then finished up and left. I couldn't make eye contact with my father for the rest of the night....
So a couple days ago as I was leaving work I get a phone call from a friend of mine who I shall call k during this story
Now K never calls people so I was surprised that he was calling me, and was even more surprised when the first words he said when I picked up where, “Acriloc you’re a bad influence on my brother.”
I was shocked at such an accusation, wounded even and asked why. K then proceeded to tell me how when he was at work he slipped on a recently mopped floor and fractured his arm. A coworker of his dropped him off at the ER where he decided to text his brother C, someone whom I’m friend with as well, while he waited.
C asked if K was ok, and how since K works in a kitchen what’s he going to do if he can’t use his right arm for a while. K then told C how he tends to practice using his left arm just in case anything like this would happen, and though he won’t be able to do everything he did in the kitchen he’ll still be able to work and help out.
C responded with, “I guess all that practice came in....handy.”
Causing K to burst out in laughter in the middle of the ER waiting room, filled with people who are in pain and not having a pleasant day. The amount of death stares he got from people as he was laughing while trying to point at his phone and explain he’s laughing because of a lame joke his brother sent him was quite the sight to behold apparently.
Apparently I am to blame for all this because C used to never make jokes like that until he met me since I try to find any excuse to make a dad joke.
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