Near Miss Puns

I hear they cut it really close

Scholars today define it as a near myth.

I was running late.

A guy walks into a bar and orders a beer. "You know, I've never been married," he tells the bartender. "But I've had a couple of near Mrs."

Slightly long story. Tl:dr had to blurt out a couple of quick Dad Jokes today and nailed it.

Longer version I was wearing my favorite shirt today, in big letters it says: “DAD JOKES: that’s how EYE ROLL”… we were ate a state park with a lake, nice family spot. Near the parking lot at a busy trail crossing on our way in some random guy says “I used to work at the Pepsi factory but I got canned.” It took me a beat or two to realize he was talking to me, our groups had passed each other so I turned back and said “I got fired from the orange juice factory. I couldn’t concentrate!” Everyone laughed and off we went.

Hours later on our way back to the parking lot, same trail crossing. Random (different) guy turns to me and says “Why did Norway put barcodes on the side of their ships?” Ready for that one (thanks r/dadjokes) I respond with “So they can Scandinavian!” The pressure is on, so I turned back and said “What’s a pirates favorite letter?” He says “Arrr” of course. I said “What’s his second favorite letter?” No answer so I give them “P - because it’s like R but is missing a leg!”

Everyone laughs, as we go our separate ways I heard someone in their group say “Oh, he was good!” Perfect day!

Thanks for listening, I just had to share. Always be ready with a couple quick ones!

The other day at dinner I got in an argument with my son. The wife tried to intervene and once it settled down she asked him, hoping for an apology, "have you got anything you'd like to say?" Without missing a beat he said "yeah, I wish my dad would drop dead!" I won't lie it did hurt but not nearly as much as hearing the news that the mail man had suddenly died.

"Have you seen him? He's a tall Pakistani guy. Can't miss him." "No, sorry man." "Bummer... Yeah I've gotta catch Amal."

My fiance nearly threw her engagement ring at me for that one.

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

which was my 40th birthday. The BIG Four Oh! As in "Oh, you're 40 and not married? What's wrong with you?"

And my friends, as awesome as they are, kept setting me up on blind dates, but I never seemed to click with any of the women. Pretty women, short women, tall women, rough women, successful women, lazy women - I dated them all and more often than not, they just weren't interested in me.

I think I probably went on twenty or so dates that never resulted in a a single follow up date.

But two months before my birthday, I started dating two women and both fledgling relationships seemed like they were going somewhere as they were getting really, really serious. I couldn't choose one, but I didn't care. I just couldn't believe they were into me. Okay, maybe they weren't the best looking, but I was so desperate for a wife, and I'm definitely no prize myself.

With a few weeks to go before my birthday, I knew I had to act if I had any hope of being married. I bought two rings and proposed to them both (on separate nights, of course) and they both said no. In fact, though they never knew of each other, I went from two good things to both of them not returning my calls. I guess proposing in a mall food court (for Jenny) or down on my knees in front of the bathroom at a minor league baseball game (Susan) were not my best laid plans, doomed to fail. Or maybe I just reeked of desperation.

So the morning of my birthday, I was practically in tears, deep in depression as I knew I missed my deadline. But my friends came though, kind of. They took me out bar hopping and then we all went back to my place where they had a stripper waiting in my favorite chair. She got up, sat me down, and gave me a grinding lap dance. She said nothing, but after a minute, stopped, turned around, looked me in the eye and said "one." Then she started up again, stopped after a minute, turned around and said "two..."

This went on all night until she got to "forty."

It's been a few months now, and I'm not too sad. My friends really tried to get me married, and after two near mrs, I guess it was the thot that counts.

So in Canberra people are picking their own mushrooms; which would be fine except for the rather hazardous Death Caps that seem to be plentiful right now. A local radio station asked their listeners whether hey thought mushroom sales at stores or restaurants would go down, and what people thought of the whole issue. With a decade of experience in hospitality I thought I'd call and while waiting to go on air, the presenters joked about calling up the head 'mushroom guy' for Australia and asking their opinion.

I go on air and assure them that no restaurant worth their salt would risk their name and business by buying mushrooms that weren't from an official farm. But just before They bid me farewell I said; "I hope you do get to talk to the head mushroom person, I bet he's a real Fungi".

There was silence followed by barely audible raucous laughter from what sounded like either outside their booth or over the intercom, I'm not sure. The presenters denied me an on air groan or laugh and just pretended like I had said nothing. But someone laughed... Someone...

[Edit: Wow, unable to log in to reddit for a day and I miss getting nearly eight times more up votes than I have since joining Reddit last year. Thanks all! I knew having a 1 yr old would pay off.]

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

My Dad had a brain injury resulting from a fall and was in a nursing home for a year till he passed away. One of the things we both loved were "Dad jokes" and puns. When I visited him in the nursing home it was often a one way conversation. I would just ramble on not sure if he could hear me or understand me, but it didn't matter. One day I arrived and sat with him while he stared into the distance and I said, "Gees Dad you should see the weather outside it's raining cats and dogs and I damn near stepped in a poodle." He turned to me slowly and grinned and said, "That's an ollllllld joke", then he turned away and disappeared again. But for a few seconds he was there.....all of him. The power of Dad jokes. I miss him.

It took a while but don’t give up. All those driving lessons in all kinds of weather, late at night, early morning. Gritted teeth and white knuckles at near misses, all payed off.

So to celebrate we bought a new car.

It's nice after all that work to finally have something to chauffeur it.