A list of puns related to "New To This Town"
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 ➡Once upon a time, there was a small desert village with a single well on the outskirts of the town. One morning, a woman went to the well to fetch water for the day. The lady was crying and the well heard this. A voice came from the well and asked “what’s wrong?”
The lady stopped sobbing and asked the well, in utter disbelief, “you can talk?”
“Yes” the well said, “long ago, the witch living in this town gave life to me so I could protect the towns people”
“Alas” the woman said, “I am the daughter of that witch. She lived in peace with the town for many years, but the new mayor, who is a violent and hateful man, riled the townspeople up against her. The town burnt my mom at the stake! I am still young and do not know much magic. I tried to curse the town, but failed, and now I fear I may never avenge my mother.”
“Do not be afraid” the well said, “I will take care of this.”
The next morning the mayor was going to the well to fetch water when he heard an odd noise. He peered over the edge to look down as far as he could when an impossibly long arm shot up at him. The arm grabbed the mayor and dragged him down into the depths of the well. There was a horrible crunching sound and the mayor was never seen again. The townsfolk apologized to the witch’s daughter and everyone lived happily ever after.
See moral above for the pun...
A comedian backed by the Mafia was doing a show in New York. In the audience was group of foreign religious leaders, in town for a UN conference. Oddly, that group was very vocal in their heckling of the poor comic. Particularly vociferous was the Hindu leader from India.
Noticing this from offstage, the Mafia Don told one of his thugs to make his way to their section and menacingly "encourage" them that they should "shaddap already".
The thug asked the Don if there was one of the group who should receive... "extra-strength" encouragement. The Don replied "Yes. Weigh down upon the Swami ribber".
My family was taking our grandmother back to a town in New Jersey. On the way there we were discussing how we were getting there, and our grandmother remembers a town we have to pass through on the way there. The town is called Mahwah.
So she says, "Does this road go to Mahwah.
To which my dad replies, "It sure does, but it also went today and yesterday".
If you don't get it, try reading it out loud.
Wife: I got this feta cheese from the new Mediterranean market in town. It's so good!
Me: there was a famine in Lebanon a few years ago where they used that cheese to end the crisis.
Wife: ...
Me: it feta lotta people.
Wife: I hate you
A pair of friars came up with the great idea to use the extra flowers scattered around the monastery to start a flower shop. After the first week, the new flower shop is bustling and quickly becomes the most popular flower shop in town. This upsets a fellow florist, John, because he is losing his business. John decides to go down to the docks and find someone to destroy the competition's flower shop. John ends up finding a large sailor by the name of Hugh. Hugh promptly goes and completely destroys the friars' flower shop, effectively putting the friars out of business. Once again proving that only Hugh can prevent florist friars.
I grew up in Vermont. Around my town were plenty of dairy farms, inviting the always wonderful manure aroma. An aroma that nearly forced my father to inhale deeply through his nose, saying, "Ah, fresh Vermont air!"
That's an excellent Dad one liner, as are most dad jokes, but he had another great one that I'm getting to.
You see, the hay bails we saw growing up in Vermont were mostly the cube variety. Hay bailing technology at the time created cubes of hay, so that's what dotted the fields they'd graze in.
As we grew older, we starting noticing the now more common round bails of hay. Dad was not pleased.
I asked him what the problem was or, at least, what his problem was with the round bails. The best jokes are set up when you ask for them.
So, he tells me. New farming technology allowed the round bails to be created more efficiently. They used less fuel in the bailers, took less passes on the field to gather the hay. They used less twine, and even though they didn't fill a truck as well as square bails, there was still a net monetary gain from the efficiency gained elsewhere.
However, studies were done on the bails. The cows approached them differently due to the different alignment of surface area. The way the rain hit the bails and rolled off as opposed to soaking in leached nutrients out of the hay. Some cows even mistook the shape of bail for another animal, and approached them so nervously that their heart rates were known to raise significantly; such a rate that a tinge of acidity could be tasted by those in the know in their milk.
What all of this amounted to... is that with the new round bails of hay, the cows just weren't getting a good square meal.
A wealthy man who occasionally dabbled in black-market affairs was strolling through town one day. One of his associates came running up to him with some bad news. "Sir, the shipment from Singapore is late" his associate said. "DO NOT talk to me about these affairs in public you fool!" the wealthy man blurted back. "My apologies, sir. Would you prefer to discuss this in your home?" his associate replied. The wealthy man responded "Yes, please speak to me in the manor to which I'm accustomed."
Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.
Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":
There once was a man from the Ukraine named Ivan Ivanavich. Now Ivan and his family were dirt poor, in fact they were so poor, that they had to sell the cockroaches and rats they found in their hovel to make some spare change to to feed their many family members. One day, Ivan decided it was time to travel to the United States to try and have a better life and miraculously he managed to get aboard a ship to the States. Now his journey on this ship was miserable, he was down in the bowels of the ship, which was flooded with rats and feces, but he hunkered down and gave it his all to survive this terrible journey. finally, one day he hears commotion above, they had arrived at last. Ivan walks up to the topside of the old ship and sees the New York Harbor. He stands there amazed seeing such a beautiful sight. Ivan starts his life in New York but he doesn't have a significantly better life than the one he left behind. Nobody is interested in hiring immigrants but eventually he lands himself a gig of selling old newspapers. He would go through garbage cans to find old papers and would sell them to people in the poorer part of town. He makes slightly more spare change, but not really enough to live a better life. In his spare time, which he had plenty, he decides to start free diving in the bay. He goes there each day, and started to get really good at it. One day, an owner of a Circus spots him diving and is amazed at how good he is. He decides to offer Ivan a job at his circus doing performance diving. Ivan eagerly accepts and begins his career as a circus member performing amazing high jumps into really small containers of water. After a few months of doing this he suggests to the owner one amazing jump to wow everyone and put his circus on top of the entertainment world. The owner contemplates this and eventually agrees. He rents a ship much like the one Ivan arrived in and placed the smallest container yet. The radio and tv crews, journalist all arrive to spectate the event of a lifetime. The hour arrives and Ivan begins his climb up a massive lighthouse on the edge of the cliff, and the ship is positioned into place beneath him. Ivan is very nervous but decides it's go time, and jumps from the massive lighthouse. As Ivan falls, he takes perfect form heading straight towards his target. As he dives a sudden wave pushes the ship ever slightly throwing off the careful alignment. Ivan hits the deck and goes straight through the top of the ship. The spectato
... keep reading on reddit ➡Quick backstory: there is a bar in my town that all new alumni of the town's university sign upon graduation. My friends and I were in their celebrating a 21st birthday on Saturday and I just graduated. The bar is a restaurant in the daytime and they have great sundaes.
My friend asked the bartender for a sharpie so I could sign the ceiling. The bartender didn't have one and this was our exchange:
Me: "Ah let's come in tomorrow and get sundaes and I'll sign the ceiling."
Friend: "Sounds good to me."
Me: "It could be a sundate."
Friend: "Really...."
Me: "Convenient on Sunday!"
Friend: "Jokes on you it's going to be really cloudy!"
Me: "So then it's just clou-day."
Friend: "Get out." (Turns back to me while cringing)
Let me preface this with some info. Firstly, me and my father are idiots; our jokes can become insensitive if we aren't careful, as we have few filters. My parents live in a tiny town amidst a thousand other tiny towns. One of the tiny towns right beside us (let's call it Townsburg) has a lot of forest and extra land, so towards the end of the summer when it's still hot but the land is starting to dry out, it's rather susceptible to fires. The other day, Townsburg caught fire in a few different places. The town my parents live in (we'll call it Cityville) is the sausage capital of our state. Yep. Sausage capital. Like brisket and such. Our proudest export is meat. Meat is what we are most proud of. I don't live there anymore, thank the universe.
So I went by my parents house on the way home from work one day to check on my retired, sick father, and watch the news with him (something I try to do whenever I can). And what happened next, well, it all just happened so fast...
Me: "Whoa, Townsburg is on fire again. I guess Cityville isn't the barbecue capital anymore, AYO." Dad: "Nope. Looks like they're about to be the barbecued capital." Me: "...we may need to stop hanging out so much."
When I was 4 or 5 my family went on vacation. I took my favourite teddy bear, Blue Ted. I unfortunately left Blue Ted at the hotel or somewhere in the town we were staying at. My father when we got home brought me a new bear and called it Roo Ted. (Rooted meaning screwed or fucked in Australia) I did not catch on to the joke for many years and introduced my bear as rooted to everyone I met. My father to this day thinks this is the most hilarious joke/prank he has ever made.
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