One More Night Puns

It says it's M 18+

There once was this fella was born with a silver screw in his belly button. His parents, and later himself, searched far and wide trying to find someone that knew how this happened and how to remove it. As he grew older he cared less and less about the "how" and more about the removal. One day in his never-ending search he encountered a wizened woman who said that she knew of a place where you could go and a mysterious force would be able to remove the screw. But, before she provided the location she asked him if this was REALLY something he wanted done and if he knew all the consequences of his desire. The man hastily said that he was 10000% sure and more than well informed of the consequences. So, she gave him the location of the cave and the instructions on how to gain the help of the mysterious force. He was to go to the cave and sleep nude in the cave over night and by the morning his request would be fulfilled. He made his way to the spot with all due haste and followed the instructions to the letter. He did this and fell into a sound sleep. During the night a heavy fog rolled into the cave and a shining silver screwdriver floated into the cave with it. It floated down to the man and gently removed the screw. When the man woke up in the morning and saw the screw on the ground beside him he quickly reached down and felt his belly button. The screw was gone! He sprung up with great joy but the minute he landed after his leap of joy his butt fell off. He froze in horror and started to scream "Why did my butt fall off?" over and over.

The moral of the story is "Don't mess with things you don't understand or you will lose your butt."

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

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.

How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.

I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.

I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.

My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.

Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.

How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.

What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.

Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.

There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.

What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.

What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.

Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.

Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.

How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.

The shovel was a ground breaking invention.

A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."

A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."

Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.

What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.

I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.

What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.

I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.

Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.

Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"

Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.

What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.

Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.

What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.

What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.

A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.

After the accident, the juggler didn

At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.

One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.

The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.

The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.

In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.

A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.

The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.

After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.

The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."

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.

As they sat at their table, taking photos of their food for social media, one of the photographers realized he hadn't been given water. He approached the bar and asked for a glassful, with which the bartender obliged. Rather than immediately leaving, he stood there and stared at the bartender for a moment before returning to his seat.

Soon enough, he found himself thirsty again, and took another trip to the bar, and once again stared at the bartender. This happened again and again throughout the night, with the bartender becoming progressively more frustrated by the photographers persistent requests for glasses of water and uncomfortable stares. Finally, on the photographers fifteenth trip, the bartender loses his cool and yells, "Take a pitcher, it'll last longer!"

An Irishman had been drinking at a pub all night.

The bartender finally said that the bar is closing. So the Irishman stood up to leave and fell flat on his face. He tried to stand one more time; same result.

He figured he'll crawl outside and get some fresh air and maybe that will sober him up. Once outside he stood up and fell flat on his face. So he decided to crawl the 4 blocks to his home.

When he arrived at the door he stood up and again fell flat on his face.

He crawled through the door and into his bedroom. When he reached his bed he tried one more time to stand up.

This time he managed to pull himself upright, but he quickly fell right into bed and is sound asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He was awakened the next morning to his wife standing over him, shouting,

"So, you've been out drinking again!!"

"What makes you say that?" he asked, putting on an innocent look.

"The pub called -- you left your wheelchair there again."

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

So this is a bit long, sorry about that.

Zorro and his best bud the Lone Ranger were riding through the desert one day, I forget where they were heading to or where they had come from, but we can safely assume shenanigans of some kind were the driving force.

They have been travelling for most of the day and are starting to get tired. There has been a discussion about making camp for the night, but as things are they have agreed to continue riding for a while longer, till the sun starts to set. Away and off to the west the Lone Ranger spies a plant that seems to have large pink flowers that hang in strips with white stripes running the length of them.

"Zorro, what's that over there?" he asks.

Zorro turns in his saddle and raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Ah, it looks like a bacon tree, quite common in these parts. Let's ride on, there is a good place an hour from now to set up camp."

The two friends ride on and as the sun is beginning to descend the have stopped and are making camp. As Zorro begins to make a fire he says to the Lone Ranger, "You know, I quite fancy some pork. You ride back to that bacon tree and get some for supper, and I'll finish setting up camp here."

"No problem Zorro, I won't be long" replies the Ranger, jumping back into the saddle and returning the way they came.

Time passes, and the sun begins to get low in the sky. 'Odd', thinks Zorro 'he should be back by now.' Another hour passes and the shadows are growing longer. 'I might have to go investigate, it's not like him to take his time.' More time passes, and, just as Zorro has decided that he must go search for his friend in the dwindling light, he hears the sound of Silver's hooves. Looking into the gathering gloom he sees his friend riding towards him. As the Lone Ranger nears Zorro can see the Lone Ranger is injured, there are cuts and bruises and he has an arrow through his hat.

"What on earth happened, Lone Ranger? Did you make it to the Bacon tree?"

The Lone Ranger dismounts and sighs heavily.

"That weren't no Bacon tree, Zorro. That was an Hambush."

Throughout his whole life he was just fascinated with trains. Specifically passenger cars. He would enjoy going on trips with his family.

Demitri grew up and decided to make it his career. Unfortunately the difficult life he had from bullies pushed him towards the bottle and turned him to an alcoholic.

One late night in his shift he wrecked the train killing 10 people. When the courts found out he was drunk while operating they charged him with murder and sentenced him to the electric chair. For his last meal he only requested a simple ripe banana. When his time came the executioner strapped him to chair and asked for any last words. He simply said, "No." The pulled the lever and to everyone's amazement he was unharmed. The government saw this as an act of God and released him.

Couple of years later Dimitri got another job operating locomotives again. Unfortunately bad habits are not easy to quit and he was still an alcoholic. These trains were his only happiness. Unfortunately it happened again. He was drunk and crashed the train this time killing 8 people. He was again sentenced to death by the electric chair. He once again requested a banana. This time executioner really soaked the sponge to not risk a repeat. When the lever was pulled Dimitri was again left unharmed. Once again it was concluded to be another act of God and he was given his freedom.

Dimitri turned to the bottle even more especially having 18 lives gone because of him. He somehow managed to get another job doing what he loved most. It happened again though. This time, 23 people. The courts angry sentenced him one more time to death by electric chair.

When the time for his final meal came he requested another banana. The guards being very visibly upset over the situation denied his request and he was left no last meal. As the time approached and he was strapped to the chair. The executioner had a large grin ready to take this murderous man off Earth. When he pulled the lever however he was still left unharmed.

Furious the executioner cried, "How are you still alive?! You did not eat the banana!"

Dimitri shook his head and simply said, "Oh no officer the banana is not why I'm still alive. It's because I'm a terrible conductor."

His car crashes into a tree, and he escapes unhurt though his car is badly damaged. However, he needs to find somewhere to stay overnight. The man wanders alnog the road until he comes across a monastery. He knocks on the door, and a friendly monk answers.

Man: I've crashed my car and need a place to stay tonight, might I have one of your rooms?

Monk: of course, come right this way.

The monk shows the man to a room, and the man goes to sleep. At midnight, the man is awoken by a loud thumping on the ceiling. He thinks nothing of it and goes to bed, sleeping soundly the rest of the night.

The next day at breakfast he asks one of the monks about the thumping. The monk replies,"sorry, I can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man figures that that's a pretty fair response, and goes to try and fix his car.

After working on the car all day, the man returns to the monastery and asks to stay another night. The monks of course oblige, and the man goes back to the same room. This night, he is awakened by the same thumping, this time even louder. He wonders about it and eventually drifts off to sleep.

The next day, the man continues to work on the car, and needs to stay just one more night to complete it. The monks are happy to give him a room, but the man asks to me moved to a different room so he won't hear the thumping. The man goes to bed but is awakened by even louder thumping.

He decides to go investigate, and climbs the stairs, only to find a locked iron door, with the thumping coming from behind it. Unsatisfied, he goes back to bed.

The next morning, he asks the lead monk about the thumping. The lead monk replies,"sorry, can't tell you you aren't a monk". The man, filled with curiosity, asks the leader how to become a monk. The leader gives him 3 tasks: the first, to circumnavigate the globe, to learn about culture, the second task, to cut an entire field with scissors to learn patience, and the third, to memorize the entire monk book, to learn discipline.

The man completes all the tasks, and the leader takes him up to the iron door and pulls out a key. He opens the door to reveal the Monk's greatest secret.

If you're wondering what it is, I'm sorry, I can't tell you, you aren't a monk.

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

How do two programmers make money? One writes viruses, the other anti-viruses.

Where’s the best place to hide a body? Page two of Google.

A computer lets you make more mistakes faster than any invention in human history – with the possible exceptions of handguns and tequila.

If it weren’t for C, we’d all be programming in BASI and OBOL.

There are 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary, and those who don’t.

In a world without fences and walls, who needs Gates and Windows?

Programming today is a race between software engineers striving to build bigger and better idiot-proof programs, and the Universe trying to produce bigger and better idiots. So far, the Universe is winning.

Computers make very fast, very accurate mistakes.

Never underestimate the bandwidth of a station wagon full of tapes hurling down the highway.

An SQL statement walks into a bar and sees two tables. It approaches, and asks “may I join you?”

Why is it that programmers always confuse Halloween with Christmas?

Because 31 OCT = 25 DEC.

Man is the best computer we can put aboard a spacecraft… and the only one that can be mass produced with unskilled labor.

How many programmers does it take to change a light bulb? None. It’s a hardware problem.

I named my hard drive “dat ass” so once a month my computer asks if I want to ‘back dat ass up’.

I think my neighbor is stalking me as she’s been googling my name on her computer. I saw it through my telescope last night.

I changed my password to “incorrect”. So whenever I forget what it is the computer will say “Your password is incorrect”.

A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kick boxing.

It’s ok computer, I go to sleep after 20 minutes of inactivity too.

Entered what I ate today into my new fitness app and it just sent an ambulance to my house.

A clean house is the sign of a broken computer.

Wifi went down during family dinner tonight. One kid started talking and I didn’t know who he was.

I would like to thank everybody that stuck by my side for those five long minutes my house didn’t have internet.

A TV can insult your intelligence, but nothing rubs it in like a computer.

Are you a computer whiz? it seems you know how to turn my software to hardwar

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

I am not a dad at the moment, but I've learned the art of pretty clever puns in college. Some are mine, some are spins on inspirations, others are more on the joke side of dad.

What does a radioactive cat have?
18 half-lives

Ventriloquists are like psychiatrists, they both talk through things.

What is my vision?
To make the world 10% better?
No, it's about 20/20...

The invention of the shovel was truly a groundbreaking discovery.

Dad: I invested in some uranium, but I lost money.
Friend: What happened?
Dad: The Profit decayed.

We have received a report of a hole being discovered in the ground, our investigative team is looking into it.

There was an explosion at a local film manufacturing company, the story is still developing as we speak.

A local theater put together an act about jokes.
It was a play on words

Sø, I hêárd yöū lìkë föréigñ açćēńtš

As an airline mechanic would say, the job has lots of ups and downs.

My New Years resolution will probably be 25 megapixels, or 4K, not sure yet...

There was a river in Egypt no one believed existed, it was known locally as De-Nile.

Dad-Epitaph:
I thought I'd never live to see this day come.

There are two things that are guaranteed to open doors in life.
Push and Pull!

(How to keep an idiot in suspense)
What do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question?

A man builds robotic snakes for a living, I guess you could say he was a... python programmer!

A researcher's obsession with mixing stone, sand, lime, and water has yielded concrete results.

A madman once attacked a rider on his horse.
The rider had to goto hospital, the horse remains in stable condition.

A man bought a paper shop, it blew away in the wind last night.

Science is all about learning the rules, setting off an absurd amount of explosives, and then writing down what happened.

It has recently been discovered that scientific research causes cancer in rats.

Dad: Did you pick up your room?
Kid: No, I tried but it's too heavy.

OK... so did you ever notice how every time you spend 4 days alone in the woods and you make it out without a scratch or even a mosquito bite, and you're feeling all peaceful and relaxed and at one with the universe, you're not home 20 minutes and unloading the back of your truck when you slam your right shin into the trailer hitch... and amid the flashing white stars around you, your fists clench, your teeth grit, your body tenses and every "mean, nasty and ugly" word you ever read, heard, uttered or even imagined ("Wait... is #*&%#@!!! even a word??? Oh what the heck? It works!") goes tearing through your brain.... and eventually it passes and you keep working, surprised you're not even limping and it doesn't hurt more than it does... and almost an hour later, when you're finished and getting undressed to take your first hot shower in days, you see a lump on your shin the size of Rhode Island... and the first image that pops into your head is John Merrick yelling "I AM NOT AN ANIMAL!!!... in fact, it literally looks like a second knee on your right leg... so you spend the rest of the evening keeping it elevated and icing it on and off, alternating between a blue gel pack and a bag of frozen peas.... and when you go to bed, you keep the gel pack on while you read and then take it off before you go to sleep... and then you wake up around 3AM and decide to check your shin and the swelling has gone down quite a bit... but since you still have several hours before you get up, you decide to ice it again... but the gel pack on the floor is no longer cold so you get up, walk to the kitchen and open the fridge... and after taking a bite of leftover pizza from last night (because... well, you're here and what the heck?), you go into the freezer, grab the bag of frozen peas and take them back to bed with you... but they're all frozen into one big solid ball and well, that won't do... so you lay the bag on the bed to pound it once or twice to break them up, but instead the bag bursts open and suddenly there are frozen peas sprayed all over the bed and rolling onto the floor... and all those words from yesterday come rushing back into your head as you kneel to gather them all up... but suddenly your anger completely vanishes and you can't help laughing to yourself as you think, "gee, I can't remember the last time I pea'd the bed in the middle of the night"???

so there’s a far-off place that consists of a perfectly triangular lake surrounded by land, with three kingdoms on the three sides of the lake. the first kingdom is rich and powerful, filled with wealthy, prosperous people. the second kingdom is more humble, but has its fair share of wealth and power, too. the third kingdom is struggling and poor, and barely has an army.

the kingdoms eventually go to war over control of the lake, as it’s a valuable resource to have. the first kingdom sends 100 of their finest knights, clad in the best armor and each with their own personal squire. the second kingdom sends 50 of their knights, with fine leather armor and a few dozen squires of their own. the third kingdom sends their one and only knight, an elderly warrior who has long since passed his prime, with his own personal squire.

the night before the big battle, the knights in the first kingdom drink and make merry, partying into the late hours of the night. the knights in the second kingdom aren’t as well off, but have their own supply of grog and also drink late into the night.

in the third camp, the faithful squire gets a rope and slings it over the branch of a tall tree, making a noose, and hangs a pot from it. he fills the pot with stew and has a humble dinner with the old knight.

the next morning, the knights in the first two kingdoms are hung over and unable to fight, while the knight in the third kingdom is old and weary, unable to get up. in place of the knights, the squires from all three kingdoms go and fight. the battle lasts long into the night, but by the time the dust settled, only one squire was left standing - the squire from the third kingdom.

and it just goes to show you that the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides

My dad told me this spooky Halloween story when I was young, I remembered it today and thought I would share it:

On one spooky Halloween night, a man decided to travel to the graveyard all by himself, armed with only a flashlight, and a thirst for adventure. He scoured the graveyard in search of ghosts, but after a long time searching, was disappointed that he couldn’t find one.

Just when he was beginning to get disheartened, he heard this awful sound from behind! The sound was deep, scratchy, and bellowing. It was the distinct sound of a coffin! The man was terrified. Naturally, he took off running! But No matter how far or fast he ran, he couldn’t escape the coffin. Everywhere he went, the coffin roared, deep, scratchy, and bellowing.

Just when he could run no more, he found himself trapped. The coffin closed in on him, getting louder and louder as it approached.

So what did he do?

He did what any man would do in this situation! He pulled out his Vick’s 44d cough syrup and stopped that awful coffin!

Last night at a restaurant, my son started to spell out things he wanted. Wether it was to annoy us, or keep my 4 year old daughter in the dark on the different kinds of ice cream, he succeeded on both fronts. Anyways, my wife goes "Enough, stop!". And he proceeds to go " e-n-o-u-g-h s-t-o-p". Then I chime in and say "one more time, and your in trouble, you are very annoying, use your words".

After a blank look on his face for a few seconds, the kind he and I both get when we are plotting something, he looks at me and simply says..... " Okay"

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

So I just realized that my "epic" theatre joke is also a dadjoke.

Now this requires some explaining before I get to the joke. I just completed my 55th theatre production - mostly community theatre; most designing and running sound, but I get on stage sometimes. A decade or so ago, I came up with a terrible pun. Told it, got groans, and promptly forgot about it.

A production or two later, someone said - "Hey, aren't you going to tell your joke?" It took a little prompting to remind me of it. Once I was reminded, I told the joke - to more groans.

I enjoyed the groans so much - and was touched that someone remembered the joke that I'd forgotten. So I did decide it was going to forevermore be: THE JOKE.

So the NEXT production, I started warning people that "The Joke" was coming. One or two remembered the previous time I'd told it, and reacted - "Oh god. Please no."

So now it has truly become a thing. Every production I'm in, I start reminding people that The Joke is coming, and the reactions from those who know the joke really help set up the anticipation.

So finally it happens. Most theatre productions I've been in run Fri-Sat-Sun performances. And thus, as I explain, I can only tell The Joke after the last Friday night's performance ends, and before the last Saturday's performance begins. It shifts if the days are different because The Joke depends on the number of remaining shows.

So, finally that time period comes, and I explain that I can only tell the joke during that time period, only the once per production - from auditions to strike - and that we're in that period of time.... which is known as.... the "cancer period". AND would you like to know WHY this period of time is known as the "cancer period"?

(at which point the tension for the punchline is usually quite palpable)

"Because we have...... TUMOR!" (as I hold up two fingers).

This is usually followed by shouts to "GET OUT!" and threats of violence against my person. hehehe

And the NEXT time, when I start warning that "The Joke" is coming, most of these groan "Oh god... no...." and helps set it up for the next poor bunch of folks who haven't yet heard it. :)

I'm not usually one for bars, but since the smoking ban in Illinois, they're not so bad. I'm not much of a drinker either, but this one place in particular offers free soft drinks for designated drivers of groups of three or more. You have to get them from a location separate from the bartender. You declare yourself upon entering the place, then your hand is marked, and from that point, you're not allowed alcohol, but you get the free soft drinks.

Their specialty is their own brand of a mixed fruit drink that's really good. It's popular enough that you're usually standing behind six or seven people to wait your turn. So, Saturday night, while I'm waiting for mine, this cute blonde walks up behind me. I figured I'd try to be witty and asked her, "Can I buy you a drink?"

She scowled at me with, "Well aren't you the funny one?"

"What's with the attitude?" I asked her.

"Sorry," she said. "It's them." And she thumbed toward a table with (would you believe it?) a brunette and a redhead.

"Why?" I asked. "What'd they do?"

"I'm just getting sick of it," she said. "Every time we come here, it's always me in the punch line."

My friend (L) and I (B) ended up in a pun war. She had to wake up super early to catch a flight, and this was at about one in the morning:

L: I should definitely set my alarm to 'cow' o.O

B: Haha, do it. Nothing like waking up to cows in the 'moo'rning.

L: Oh my gosh. Absolutely not.

B: Hey, but it would be so 'udder'ly hilarious!

L: I just got stabbed to death by a pun.

B: I'm just trying to 'milk' it for all it's worth...

L: If I did that, I'm not sure I'd wake up in a happy 'moo'od.

B: Just drink some 'calf'inated coffee, and you'll be fine.

L: I'd be laughing 'stock' of the town... Cows don't have a sense of humor.

B: Bull!

L: I'll just use my cowculator do determine how much sleep I'm actually going to get tonight...

B: You could wake up a little later, but you'd have to 'hoof' it to the airport.

L: Hope the weather is good, so my plane isn't 'ground'ed 'beef'.

B: That's stretching it... You should make more of an 'heifer't to come up with good puns.

L: I know when I'm getting creamed.

B: It's hard to 'steer' you in the right direction, because you keep changing topics.

L: That's udderly ridiculous. I'm just trying to mooove on.

B: And I just keep churning 'em out...

L: No, you're just spinning your 'veal's.

B: That's one of the best ones I've herd all night!

L: I thought I might've butchered it...

B: PETA might have a beef with you because of it, though...

L: Well done, well done...

B: I don't think they care leather or not you personally slaughtered it, too.

L: See now, I wish you'd stop 'grilling' me about the bad puns... You should 'patty' yourself on the back. I 'dairy' you to come up with more.

B: Well, you can certainly steak a claim for being able to hold your own...

L: I'm a natural 'barn' comedian. However, I really should quit 'yak'king and go to bed. :p

B: Okay, that's not cows... You lose. You 'cud' have done a lot better.

L: The grass is greener on the other side, okay? Also, cows live in barns, and yaks are related to cows.

B: It was still quite a stretch... Don't have a cow about it.

L: Ha anymoo. Goodnight! Also, don't die of mad cow disease.

I didn't come up with this but its been flying around reddit for a while...

A day before his 15th birthday, the son of a wealthy family was asked by his father, `Well my son, what would you like for your birthday?' The son hesitated a moment and his father's thoughts leapt ahead to a new computer and similar things. However, his son had had a new computer only recently and could have a new one any time he wished.

Finally, the son said, `Father, I have everything a boy could wish for, but there is one thing I would really like. I would love to have a pink ping pong ball.'

The father was rather astonished at this wish, but said, `If it is a pink ping pong ball that you want, a pink ping pong ball you shall have.'

And so, the next day, the son was given as his bithday present a pink ping pong ball.

The boy took the ball to his room and the next morning the pink ping pong ball was gone. The father was mildly surprised but decided not to say anything. The pink ping pong ball, however, was never seen again.

The next year, a day before his 16th birthday, the father asked his son what he would like for his birthday.

Father,' replied the son,I have everything a boy could possibly wish for, but there is one thing I would really, really like. I would love to have a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'

The father was more surprised than the year before, but kept his curiosity at bay, for he knew that his son had a right for privacy. he said therefore, `If it is a tenpack of pink ping pong balls that you want, a tenpack of pink ping pong balls you shall have.'

And so, the next day, the son was given as his birthday present a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.

The boy took the tenpack of balls to his room and the next morning, not a single ball remained, merely the empty husk of the tenpack. The father wondered where ten pink ping pong balls might disappear to, but decided not to say anything. The pink ping pong balls, however, were never seen again.

The next year, a day before his 17th birthday, the son was asked by his father what he would like for his birthday.

Father,' said the son to this,I have everything a boy could wish for, but one thing would make my happiness complete. I would dearly want a carton of pink ping pong balls.'

The father was beyond surprise, but decided to make sure he had not misheard. `A carton of pink ping pong balls?'

`A carton of pink ping pong balls,' the boy confirmed.

I can't understand your fascination with pink ping pong balls

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten

My dad, my brothers, and I have been at our family farm (we don't live there) for the weekend of the 4th. Last night we were outside shooting off fireworks, as any real American does on the 4th. About 50 feet in front of the house is a 4 foot high fence. My dad discovered that one of the cracker launchers we had fit perfectly in the upper part to launch the crackers into the air at an angle. Always the cautious one of the bunch, I responded to his idea:

"I dunno dad, I'm on the fence about this one."

Naturally, my brothers congratulated me on how lame my jokes were and told me to go inside and make more hot dogs.

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.

My father told me this when I was young. He grew up on a farm back in the 40's and 50's and for the longest time they had an outhouse that was their primary bathroom. One night he was sitting in there taking a crap when he hears a voice coming from below him. It was saying very quietly "If the log rolls over, we will die". He is sitting their puzzled but he keeps hearing it over and over again "If The Log Rolls Over We Will Die"...

Now he starts to freak out so he wipes himself and runs inside and grabs the flashlight off the counter and comes back out to check it out. Only now, it is louder and more frantic If The Log Rolls Over We Will Die.

He crept up to the toilet hole, turned on the flashlight and slowly peered over the edge of the toilet and what he saw scared the hell out of him...

It was a bunch of ants sitting on a turd and chanting If The Log Rolls Over We Will Die

Me:That's one of my specialties! Yesterday when one of my coworkers playfully hit me with curtains I threatened to have her arrested for assault with a thread-ly weapon.

Her: That's so cheesy, but so gouda.

M: Hearing you say that makes me feel grate!

H: Course! I couldn't just let it brie without returning with a different pun. :)

M: I'm so glad we curd share this moment, it keeps me from feeling bleu.

H: Are you stilton going on about this? It could be seen as a provelone.

M: No Whey! Really? I accepted Cheeses into my life a long time ago.

H: Well, I believe that there is more out there than Cheeses, with your Parmesan I could continue. Too bad I am bread tired, and wish to be loafing around. Good night and sweet dreams

M: Well, early to Bread early to Rise, as they say. You have sweet dreams. Oh, and don't ask Rye if I'm in them

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)

I was looking forward to all the dad jokes at Benihana last night, and I was not disappointed! (Also, epic onion volcano!)

• Our chef says "Who wants egg roll?" and then rolls an egg across the cooking surface.

• When the chef added butter to the cooking vegetables, he threw his bowl of butter into the air a couple times and said "Look! Butterfly!"

• While prepping the shrimp, he put all the tails on his spatula and asked the 6-year-old at the table "You ordered just tail, right?"

• He put one sesame seed on his spatula, showed it to the 6-year-old and said "Japanese diet!"

• Our chef checks with everyone who ordered steak to see how they want it cooked, then says to the people who ordered chicken "For chicken, everyone want rare?" and then he laughed when one of the girls at the table got really confused.

I'm sure there were more that I can't remember once the sake kicked in.

I'm at my buddy's parent's house last night for his little birthday shindig with some friends. His mom is there and, while she's super sweet, she tends to find compliments for everything even if they're not needed.

His mom gets to talking to one of our friends about how the friend works at a bookstore downtown which happens to be a two storey building.

Friend's mom: "Oh, you work at Barnes and Noble? It must be nice to work there. It's such a building. It's so nice that it has two storeys."

Me: "I'm pretty sure there's a lot more than two stories in there..."

I was at the airport waiting for my flight home the other night when over the P.A they asked everyone from flight DJ-478 to Sydney to make their way to the service desk, so myself and my fellow passengers make our way over to the desk, where the very embarrassed and obviously distressed desk worker informs us that our flight has been cancelled, and the next one isn't till the morning, she then tells us that the airport will happily put us up in the 5 star hotel around the corner, and have us dropped back at the airport at 7am the following morning. Most the people there accepted this, after the desk lady told us it was for our personal safety and that there wasn't a lot more they could do, except this one particular gentleman, who storms over to the desk, and tells the woman that he needed to be in sydney tonight, and demands a flight be made available. (It's like 9:30 by this point, surely it could wait till the morning?). After again apologizing to the man, she tells him that won't be possible, and she sends us all on our way to the shuttle bus, with our bags already on there, and off we go to the hotel. The entire bus trip this guy carried on whinging and swearing, getting angrier and angrier by the second. We get to the hotel, and he's about 30 people behind the front of the queue to check in, and he gets impatient with the time it's taking, and again, storms his way up the line, past me (I was at the front), walks over to the desk, slams his fist down and says to the woman behind the desk "I want the biggest room you have, I want it in the next 30 seconds or so help me god, you aren't gonna like what happens", the woman looked up at him and said "Sir, the airport has paid for the rooms we already have organized, if you'll take your place back in line, we'll be with you as soon as we can", the guy got really angry about being asked to move back to his spot, he threw his bag down, and yelled at the woman, "Fuck this, call me a taxi, right fucking now, I'll find somewhere else to stay", that's when i decided to step in.

I said. "Oh okay then, you're a taxi".

He took his place back in line pretty quick.

There was a video of a bunch of high schoolers dancing on a stage which collapsed. In the comments I just said "The kids are all alright... they're just going through a stage.". People responded with more puns and calling me dad, and one person gilded me.

Success?

MAN LAWS

The International Rules of Manhood

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:

(a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master.

(b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.

(c) After wrecking your boss' car.

(d) When she is using her teeth.

3: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.

5: If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.

6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice.

8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

10: You may flatulate in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free.

12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.

13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything.

16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.

18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy.

19: If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.

20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she's withholding

So one night I was babysitting two four year old girls and after having done a puzzle they asked to do one more thing before bed Me: what do you what to do? girl 1: 36 me: What's 36? girl 2: it's a number

My family was all eating spaghetti around the kitchen table one night when my Dad just started chuckling out of nowhere, spaghetti sauce falling down his shirt. His laughs quickly got louder and more food began to fall out of his mouth. Everyone immediately knew what was up.

"So...haha, so what do you get when you cross a cat with some fireworks?"

We blankly stare back. "What?"

"Kitty Kitty Bang Bang!"

He then just stared at us all laughing, tears in his eyes. My mom got up and left the room.

I was barbacking one night and the entertainment (two guys that are awesome at Beatles covers with piano and guitar/singing) were killing it that night especially..with a solid group of roughly 25yo's singing along and drinking with em between breaks. An older couple was on the other side of the bar all the while they played. So when they finish their last song and everyone claps the old gentleman gets up and says:

"Thanks for coming tonight guys, made it a real good time...If you guys need any help packing that stuff in your car...these young men will be more that willing to help you"

Had us all laughing.