A list of puns related to "No Way To Stop It"
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡One cold, snowy Minnesota night, I got lost on the way home. The snow was blowing so fast and piling up so high, I couldn't see any street signs. With no map in my car and a dead cell phone, I thought I might be stranded so I pulled over to the side of the road.
Then breaking through the flurries, I saw the headlights of a plow truck in my rearview mirror. Thanking my lucky stars, I turned in and followed the truck, hopeful that it would lead me back somewhere I recognized.
I followed that truck for what felt like hours. He turned left, I'd turn left. He'd swing to the right, and I was right on his tail. After a while, I saw brake lights from the plow, followed by four-way flashers. The plow had stopped, and I saw the driver get out and approach my car. I rolled down the window to talk to him.
"Why are you following me, kid?" the plow driver asked.
"Well sir, my dad told me if I was ever lost in a snowstorm, I should wait for a plow truck and then follow it."
"Well," said the plow driver. "I just finished clearing the Target parking lot. Want to follow me over to Best Buy??"
His best friend, Roy, was known around town for having an adventurous streak that a small town just couldn't satisfy. Roy yearned to travel the world, to rub shoulders with the well-to-do, and to squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of life. While most young folk in town, my grandpa included, were resigned to their lot, Roy was driven by his dream. He worked incredibly hard, taking every hired-hand and handy-man job he could find. He would walk five miles each way to clean a gutter if there was a nickel to be made. His hometown was always spotless, because Roy would pick up every glass bottle he saw to get the deposit back, and every can he found would get turned in for recycling.
The years stretched on. Grandpa settled down with his high school sweetheart in a one-room cottage and had my dad, and not much else. Roy kept hurrying from one job to the next, never spending a dime on a date. Everyone would just roll their eyes and quietly gossip about how poor Roy's obsession was robbing him of a real life.
One day, Roy showed up at Grandpa's house, all decked out in a brand new khaki safari kit, complete with helmet, binoculars, and elephant gun, and announced that he had finally saved up enough for passage to Africa to go big game hunting. He was especially proud of the fine leather boots he was sporting. "Indestructable" he called them, totally impenetrable to water, wind, and snow. No trench-foot for him while he tracked rhinos on the savannah!
Grandpa congratulated Roy on his achievement and wished him bon voyage. Over the next three months, the town felt Roy's absence. Litter lay where it fell, gutters overflowed in heavy rain, small-time farmers rose that bit earlier and bedded that bit later to cover the work Roy used to help with. Of course, the gossipers just turned their chat from how Roy needed a dose of reality to how thoughtless it was of him to just up and leave. Most folks were convinced Roy was gone for good. After all, how could he come back from such a high-falutin' adventure to his tiny, no-account hometown?
But return Roy did, and everyone crowded around at the bar to hear his account of his safari. To their surprise, Roy told them that, for all the time he had been away, he only bagged one trophy that was currently on a slow boat back. It turned out, once Roy got a close-up look at the elephants, rhinos, giraffes, gazelles, and all the fine animals of the African savannah, he lost all heart for hunting. He just couldn't imagi
... keep reading on reddit ➡A man was recruited for a space colony
He had been posted to a planet 14 light-years from Sol. As his ship landed on the planet's glowing surface, he saw a car waiting for him.
"Welcome to Anti-Earth," The driver said, "don't worry we are going to change the name soon. I am here to take you to your quarters and show you the colony on the way."
They had been driving for a couple of minutes when the recruit saw glowing buildings far away.
"Why are the buildings shining like that?", he asked.
"Didn't they brief you about the colony?", the driver asked "We don't call it Anti-Earth for no reason, it's literally the opposite of Earth. Any element rare on Earth is as common as carbon (C) here, and interestingly carbon (C) doesn't occur naturally here. So we had to make good of what we had, the buildings are made of rare metals like radium (Ra) which glow in the dark."
After half an hour they arrived at what seemed the main highway, the road had a faint bluish glow and the sides were lined with metallic posts shining faintly in the double moonlight. They stopped near a small dilapidated shack with the words "COMMUNICATION OFFICE" crudely etched on the walls.
"This is your office. You are supposed to handle communications for the colony," the driver said. "We can't use any wireless communication as the high amount of radioactive gases in the atmosphere interferes with the signal, so we have to use a type of telegraph instead. Come on, I'll show you our most important resource."
They walked a bit till they reached a plantation full of bizarre trees. Some were made of precious metals, some of common earth metals and some of them were glowing radioactively.
"This is the plantation for building the posts. We brought these seeds from Earth and planted them, apparently as they couldn't get the conventional elements they just used what the soil contained. We just sell the gold (Au), silver (Ag) and platinum (Pt) trees to Earth, the iron (Fe) and aluminium (Al) are used for constructing equipment and there are some pretty rare elements like uranium (U) and astatine (At) (which is the rarest element on Earth) which are used for scientific research. However, these aren't what we are here for."
The driver motioned him to follow him towards a small area of trees with a silvery sheen to them.
"These are made of rhenium (Re) one of the densest elements with one of the highest melting and boiling points. It is strong enough to withstand the toxic atmosphere and radioa
... keep reading on reddit ➡When I walked in the place was great, everything was perfect apart from the kitchen. There were gas mains but no cooker! Work surfaces and water pipes, but no sink; empty plugs and spaces for where the fridge and freezer should sit.
When I bought the house I was told it was fully furnished! Furious, I called up intending to give whomever answered an earful.
I was told that everything should be arriving individually, and the house is being used as an experiment for completely autonomous, self thinking kitchen appliances!
Before I could reply there was a knock on the door. I opened it and a stove strolled in, tilted forward in a bow, slid past me and set itself into its spot! Even attaching itself to the gas mains!
Later that day another knock at the door signalled the arrival of the fridge and freezer.(who had travelled together) They bowed and sat themselves perfectly in place in my new kitchen. I was beaming!
That evening I was explaining to my wife how the appliances had arrived, when came another knock at the door. “This technology is going to change the world, I swear it!” I told her. “Can you answer the door? I’ve been on my feet all day”
“Yeah,” she replied, less enthusiastic than I,“but it’ll get to a point when humans are completely inferior.” She explained “When these machines develop such sentience, what’s stopping them from overthrowing us?” “Treating us as slaves, like we to them now?” She asked, distraught at theses ideas.
Knock knock
“It’s best not to worry about these things,” I said in an attempt to alleviate her fears.
“There are people- professionals developing contingencies for any possible future robot uprising!” “That future you’re frightened about is purely science fiction right now, and the way our collective knowledge and application of technology has advanced, (Even in the past 50 years!) our own scientists and engineers will be able to crush any worries we may have when the time comes.” I explained.
She sighed, agreeing somewhat reluctantly. “Don’t think on it now, have some faith!” I told her.
Knock knock
“Now let that sink in!”
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 ➡Why was the fraction apprehensive about marrying the decimal? Because he would have to convert.
Why do plants hate math? It gives them square roots.
Why did the student get upset when his teacher called him average? It was a mean thing to say!
Why was the math book depressed? It had a lot of problems.
Why is the obtuse triangle always so frustrated? Because it is never right.
Why can you never trust a math teacher holding graphing paper? He must be plotting something.
Why was the equal sign so humble? Because she knew she wasn’t greater than or less than anyone else.
What do you call the number 7 and the number 3 when they go out on a date? The odd couple
What do you call a number that can’t stay in one place? A Roamin’ numeral.
Did you hear the one about the statistician? Probably.
What do you call dudes who love math? Algebros.
I’ll do algebra, I’ll do trig. I’ll even do statistics. But graphing is where I draw the line!
Why should you never talk to Pi? Because she’ll go on and on and on forever.
Why are parallel lines so tragic if they have so much in common? It’s a shame they’ll never meet.
Are monsters good at math? Not unless you Count Dracula.
What’s the best way to flirt with a math teacher? Use acute angle.
Did you hear about the mathematician who is afraid of negative numbers? They’d stop at nothing to avoid them.
How do you stay warm in any room? Just huddle in the corner, where it’s always 90 degrees.
Why is six afraid of seven? Because seven eight ("ate") nine!
Why DID seven eat nine? Because you’re supposed to eat 3 squared meals a day!
Why does nobody talk to circles? Because there is no point.
He speaks with the officer, who assigns him his post.
"Go stand at the periscope entry-way, and make sure no unauthorized personnel touch the periscope."
The recruit follows orders, and stands by the periscope. After 15 minutes, the officer stops by.
"Son I'm changing your post to the mess hall. Go in there and start washing some dishes."
The recruit obeys, and heads to the mess hall. He's cleaned about 3 dishes when the officer walks up again.
"Listen here recruit, your new post is in the supply room. I need you to make sure everything is strapped down tight, in case of rough waters."
The recruit again follows orders, and heads off to the supply room. There, he sees a crewman, moving some boxes.
"Hey there," says the recruit. "is it normal to keep getting reassigned to new posts all day? I haven't kept one position for more than 15 minutes!"
The crewman says "Oh yeah- this sub is full of reposts."
Scene- Me, at dentist, having teeth removed. She was having a bit of trouble with some of them and this was while she had instruments in my mouth. There's some pain after maximum amount of anesthetic she can give me. Asks me how I'm doing.
Me- There is some pain in the teeth after numbing but it isn't anything I can handle.
Dentist- Last time you were here we didn't have a problem but this time your teeth are being a major pain in the butt.
Me- My teeth are a pain in the butt? No wonder people say I talk out of my ass way too much.
She had to stop for a bit to finish laughing.
After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.
Many years passed by like that.
At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.
With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:
Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.
A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:
Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:
Thank you
Once upon a time there were three little pigs, Pork Chop, Hambone, and Bacon.
The boys lived at home with their mother. One day their mother said, “I no longer have enough food to feed you boys, you need to go out on your own and find your fortunes.”
Not wanting to upset their mother they left the house together to seek their fortunes.
Several miles into their journey Bacon, the little pig everyone liked best, said, “Let’s build our houses here! This seems like a great place to start making our fortunes.”
Pork Chop and Hambone agreed. So they all began building their houses.
Pork Chop, the laziest of the bunch, decided to build his house out of straw, which he apparently stole from a nearby field. It was not a very sturdy building material, but Pork Chop didn’t care. All he wanted to do was play all day, and he didn’t want to spend too much time building.
Hambone was willing to work a bit harder and he decided to build his house out of sticks which he procured by de-limbing every tree within a 300 meter radius of their homestead.
Hambone and Pork Chop were happy. Now all they had to do was to play and sleep the rest of the day.
Now Bacon was a hard worker. He knew that his brothers had used bad materials and shoddy construction methods and he wanted to build the best house he could. He found several tons of bricks stacked in neatly ordered pallets in the forest which he decided to use for his building material. It took him several days, but when he was done Bacon had the best house on the homestead.
The next day a wolf, Scott Howard, happened upon the pig brothers and their new homestead. He spied the straw house and smelled Pork Chop inside and began to think to himself that Pork Chop would make a mighty fine meal, so Scott went and knocked on the door.
Scott said, “Little Pig! Little Pig! Let me in!”
Pork Chop replied, “No way José! Not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin!”
Scott, undeterred by the reply says, “Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your crappy straw house to the ground!”
Scott began to huff and puff. He was evidently having some sort of asthma attack, but after a few tugs from his handy dandy rescue inhaler, he was able to muster enough wind to blow Pork Chops straw house to the ground.
Pork Chop narrowly escaped Scott’s massive jaws. Scared, and now homeless, Pork Chop ran for the nearest shelter he could see. Hambone’s house.
Scott, undeterred, chased Pork Chop to his new hiding place. Scott was very pleas
... keep reading on reddit ➡And so the string decides that he shall stop at his favorite Pub and treat himself to a pint before going home to the wife. But after a decent walk he arrives at the pub to find a new sign on the door that reads " No Strings Allowed".
The string becomes infuriated. "How dare they" he thinks to himself. After having been a loyal patron for 10 years he decides this injustice is not to be tolerated and comes up with a plan.
He takes a moment and steps into the back alley way to be discreet. While he is there he ties himself into a knot and frays the top. Content with his disguise he marches back around to the front, enters the bar and has a seat when requests a pint of beer.
The bartender being a little suspicious looks at him a little uneasily but just can't seem to peg what the problem is. He serves him the beer regardless while keeping a close eye on the suspicious character. A little while later the string decides that the week at work has been so long that he is deserving of two pints of beer before going home to retire for the weekend.
It is just at that point when the bartender is serving him his second pint that he pauses and looks at the string and says "Hold on one minute! Aren't you a string?"
To which the string replied, "Sorry, I'm a frayed knot".
As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.
One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.
Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.
I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.
I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.
I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.
After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.
I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.
So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.
I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.
As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.
The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.
I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.
This joke has been told to me
... keep reading on reddit ➡He really wants to impress her, so he decides to rent a tux. However, when he gets to the rental place, people are queued up out the door. He doesn't let this stop him, though. He takes his place in line and gets to waiting.
Finally, after waiting for over an hour, he gets fitted and pays for the rental. Relieved, he heads to the florist for a corsage, only to discover that the line there is also out the door, and halfway around the block, to boot!
Miffed, he mutters some mild obscenities, but he is determined to see this through, so he waits for almost 2 hours before finally being able to buy the flowers he picked out.
It's now the night of the dance, and he's ready to go. He picks her up, and they head to the event. When they arrive, his date immediately asks him if he can grab her a drink - she's absolutely parched! Still determined to make this the best night of her life, he dutifully makes his way to the other side of the venue, where he discovers, much to his surprise...
There's no punch line.
My dad has this habit of pretending he didn't hear what you said, and then "repeating" it. Like if I said I was going to see an art show, he'll say, "You're going to a FART show? I had no idea you'd have any interest in that!" Lots of jokes along those lines, amongst others.
When I was younger I would laugh because he was kinda funny, and also to make him happy, but as I've gotten older I laugh not JUST because he's funny (in a corny way) but because the fact he still makes these jokes makes me so happy and really warms my heart. My mom is physically disabled, my dad has a bunch of health issues, we've all suffered terribly at times because of all this illness. And no matter how bad it gets, my dad is always there trying his hardest to put a smile on other people's faces and to lighten the mood a bit with his jokes. I've always been the type of girl to mope and be depressed when things are hard, but as I've gotten older I've tried to be more like my old man because I think it's something really special and admirable and selfless about stepping outside of your own negativity to give others something to laugh at or smile about. My dad is such a fuckin hero, I love him so much, and I can't imagine how unbearable this world would seem at times without him trying to make us all laugh.
So to all you dads telling your corny dad jokes, don't ever stop. Your kids and wife might groan or roll their eyes, but inside they love their corny old man and appreciate the goofy puns and fart jokes you tell!
A Retiree's Last Trip to Sam's Club
Yesterday I was at Sam's Club, buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Owen , the Wonder Dog and was in the check-out line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.
What did she think I had an elephant?
So because I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn't, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a Perfect Diet and that the way that it works is, to load your pants pockets with Purina Nuggets and simply eat one or two handfuls every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete, (certified), so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care,because the dog food poisoned me.
I told her no, I had stopped to pee on a fire hydrant and a car hit me.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard. Sam's Club won't let me shop there anymore. Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.
So this group of Irish monks needs to make payments on their belfry, and they've begun to run out of money, so after racking their brains for a few nights, and trying everything they could to get some cash together, they decide to sell flowers to make money. For weeks they sell flowers, and it's going well. Too well in fact, they've begun to run the local florist, Patty O'Flannigan out of town. Well, a bit cheesed at the monks jumping in on his territory, he decides to confront them. He asks them to step off, politely, but they simply respond that, "That's no way to talk to men of God!", and throw him out of their monastery. For weeks this goes on, the monks selling flowers, and the florist getting more and more desperate to make them stop. Finally, he goes to Hugh Mactaggart, the biggest, baddest man in town -- he could get anyone to leave town -- so Patty decides he's the best way to get rid of the monks, gives him the rest of the money, and retires to bed, wary of the results. In the morning, a knock on his door reveals Mactaggart, offering a firm handshake and saying, "They shant be botherin' ya again Patty." The moral of the story is, Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars.
Back in the 90s, I remember playing some N64 after school when my dad came home from work. He comes into the living room and asks me what's up and, as a teen, I say "nuthin" and keep playing while he just stands there. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see he's looking at me with a stupid grin on his face that's he's trying to suppress poorly. Finally, he asks me to pause the game. I turn to him and he asks "You want a Hertz donut?" I obviously know this joke, but to make it worse, he's already making a fist, ready at his side. I roll my eyes and say "No, I do not want a Hertz donut." He just relaxes his hand and says surprised "Oh, you don't? You sure?" I say I'm sure and he says okay and walks back out to his car, leaving me to return to my GoldenEye. A few seconds later, he comes strolling back in the room, with a box of a dozen donuts in his hand, while he's eating one, with the same stupid grin on his face. On the box of donuts, "Dunkin" has been crudely crossed out and Hertz written beneath it in Sharpie marker. He walks into the kitchen saying "Guess you won't be having these Hertz donuts!" I'm in awe. I follow him into the kitchen and he finally relents and lets me take a donut. I ask him "So, you bought these donuts, and just put this joke together on the way home?" He says he thought of the joke earlier in the day at work and had to buy the donuts for the bit. I start laughing hysterically thinking about him sitting at work itching to leave to pull this off. As we sit there, quietly eating these donuts, he breaks the silence with a mouth full of donut, with "Had to stop at CVS to pick up a Sharpie too." I almost choked on the donut jimmies.
TLDR: Dad offered a Hertz donut, should've taken him up on it.
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 ➡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":
While I was reading Game of Thrones, I stopped and closed the book and said to my girlfriend "That's one way of punishing someone. Chain them up and tie you to a horse. Keep up and you're fine. Don't keep up and you're gonna hurt.
She replies (in her best southern draw)
"And they said there was no dragn in it"
I have a theory
That you must tell no one,
About the way
That dads make a pun.
It all starts out
With an underground meeting:
7:30 on Mondays,
With limited seating.
They talk and converse
To say their new jokes,
Like
"I'm all out of whites,
But got plenty of yokes!"
From there they spread
To dads far and wide,
For use on their kids,
All mercy aside.
There's no way to stop it,
Believe me, I've tried.
The only thing that can help
Is to plug your ears, and hide.
I just remembered a story about my dad from when I was a kid and figured you guys would appreciate it.
We were on a vacation/road trip. My mom wanted to stop at some big flea market on our way out. My sister and I had never been to a flea market before. My dad knew we didn't know what to expect. When we arrived my dad told us to stand outside the car before we went in. He walked over to us and told us to lift our arms. He brought out some bug spray. He sprayed our arms and legs. My sister and I had no idea what was going on. He looked at us, completely serious, "for the fleas", he says. Never laughed or mentioned it again.
So I treated myself to some new books yesterday from a small local place near me, I decided to stop off at the parents on the way home and the mother had her face in the book bag before I new what was going on.
I'm showing her what I've bought and when opening one of them, I find a small maggot like creature splattered inside one of the covers! The remains of its body on one side, a goopy mess on the other. At this point the father walks past, peers over my shoulder & says 'you know what that is don't you?'. No I replied, thinking I'm going to get some to quality useless dad knowledge laid upon me........'A bookworm' he states! And fully committed to his delivery, walks clear through the kitchen and out to his shed without even a glance back.
On a ferry to get to my car, a dad and his young son go to the window next to me.
Dad: "Well son, this is as far as the boat is going to dock. We still have a few feet so you are going to have to get out and swim the rest of the way."
Son: "No dad stop you are lying, its too cold to swim."
Dad: "Sorry buddy but I'm standing."
The joke went over the little dudes head while I giggled like a school girl
Dad: The police stopped by the house today.
Me: Why?
Dad: Last weekend I was visiting my friend in the backwoods. As I was driving, a pig jumped out in front of me. I swerved to avoid it but ended up hitting it. I got out of my car and noticed it was not going to live. The pig had to be over 100 pounds, and there wasn't any way to move it. I look around and couldn't see anyone. I decided to leave the pig in the road figuring people would drive around it and scavengers would eventually take care of it. But today the police stopped by to question me about it.
Me: No one was around, right? How did they know you hit it?
Dad: The pig squealed. Dad laughs as I fell right into it.
My dad told me this the first time on Halloween night back when I was 9. He tells it to this day to any of my cousins, nephews, or any kids that happen to linger too long at the house when he's giving out candy. It's a long one but I have always enjoyed it.
Back when I was about your age, I went on a Halloween adventure. There was an old abandoned house on our street where a series of grisly axe murders had taken place years before. The house had never sold and was left vacant and was left to fall apart. There was a local legend that if you went into the house on Halloween night, you'd be confronted by the ghost of the murderer himself, still looking for more victims to add to his terrifying story.
My friend Tom and I decided to go through with it one year. Knowing everyone would be too terrified to go into the house, we snuck in easily on Halloween night. The place was falling apart inside, the carpet was wet and moldy and the wallpaper was peeling off everywhere. We headed down carefully to the basement down a set of creaky stairs.
At first we found nothing. Just an empty creepy old house. Suddenly we felt as if we were being watched. I was looking through one of the rooms in the large basement when I suddenly heard Tom shriek. I spun around and turned my flashlight and Tom was being chased by something, no someone. It looked like it was the murderer! A crazed man with an axe!
We turned and tried to run anywhere. We were in the basement but couldn't get up the stairs because we were blocked. We ran into the side room which looked like it might have been the laundry years ago. We locked the door and looked for a way out. The only thing we could find was a small window that opened onto ground level. As I climbed out I heard a pounding on the door. I managed to wriggle my way through the window and turned around to help my friend Tom. Panicking, he managed to get his top half through the window when I noticed the pounding stop.
Tom was stuck! I kept trying to pull him up but I couldn't. I pulled as hard as I could as Tom panicked and thrashed even more. I thought something had him caught, but it was even worse. The murderer had gotten behind him and was holding him back! He was too strong for me to overcome and he was pulling Tom's leg!
Just like I've been pulling yours this whole time.
While putting up framework in a construction site, a worker waves at the crane operator about to place a main support beam and yells "stop, that beam isn't strong enough! There's no way this will hold the upper levels!". The foreman pushes the worker aside and yells to the crane driver "It's fine. Truss me, I'm an engineer!"
I went on vacation in highschool with one of my good friends and his Dad and another friend, who is basically the coolest fucking guy you'll ever meet (We call him Cool Daddy Mike). Its not so much a dad joke, more just a fucked up joke my friend's Dad told me, but on our way down to Florida from Ohio, we stopped halfway there to stay in a hotel and finish the drive the next day. Since it was just 4 of us for 1 night we only got one room with 2 king sized beds. When we got to the room his dad looked at me and said "If you woke up one morning with a condom hanging out of your ass, would you tell anyone?" I of course said no I would not. He then said "Well alright looks like we are sharing a bed tonight" and points two finger guns at me. It may seem fucked up but if you knew his dad like we all did, you would have died laughing with us. (Just to clarify I did not get sexually assaulted in my sleep by my friend's dad)
They snuck from their beds in the middle of the night and met in the gloomy darkness in front of the house, shivering in the cold.
The first boy said in a loud whisper, "You guys bring anything?" He slid a gun out of his pocket. The second boy nodded and revealed a knife. The third boy pulled out a flashlight.
"You didn't bring a weapon?" the first boy asked. He shrugged and replied, "Sorry". And as if to prove it, he turned his pockets out to show nothing but stray lint and a pack of cough drops.
They crept in. The door shut behind them. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. The flash light clicked on. 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 on the other side, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a dead 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 found a fully set, ornate dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal goblets, pitchers and silverware adorned the table. Spiders crept over 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 hel
... keep reading on reddit ➡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
... keep reading on reddit ➡He speaks with the officer, who assigns him his post.
“Go stand at the periscope entry-way, and make sure no unauthorized personnel touch the periscope.”
The recruit follows orders, and stands by the periscope. After 15 minutes, the officer stops by.
“Son I’m changing your post to the mess hall. Go in there and start washing some dishes.”
The recruit obeys, and heads to the mess hall. He’s cleaned about 3 dishes when the officer walks up again.
“Listen here recruit, your new post is in the supply room. I need you to make sure everything is strapped down tight, in case of rough waters.”
The recruit again follows orders, and heads off to the supply room. There, he sees a crewman, moving some boxes.
“Hey there,” says the recruit. “is it normal to keep getting reassigned to new posts all day? I haven’t kept one position for more than 15 minutes!”
The crewman says “Oh yeah- this sub is full of reposts.”
He speaks with the officer, who assigns him his post.
"Go stand at the periscope entry-way, and make sure no unauthorized personnel touch the periscope."
The recruit follows orders, and stands by the periscope. After 15 minutes, the officer stops by.
"Son I'm changing your post to the mess hall. Go in there and start washing some dishes."
The recruit obeys, and heads to the mess hall. He's cleaned about 3 dishes when the officer walks up again.
"Listen here recruit, your new post is in the supply room. I need you to make sure everything is strapped down tight, in case of rough waters."
The recruit again follows orders, and heads off to the supply room. There, he sees a crewman, moving some boxes.
"Hey there," says the recruit. "is it normal to keep getting reassigned to new posts all day? I haven't kept one position for more than 15 minutes!"
The crewman says "Oh yeah- this sub is full of reposts."
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