Open Design Puns

I’m calling it The Ottoman Empire.

A man gets in a cab at 33rd St. and Park Ave. and says, "I need to get to the Palmer House."

The cabbie says, "The Palmer House Hotel?"

The man says, "Yeah."

The cabbie says, "That's on Wabash in Chicago."

The man says, "Yeah."

The cabbie says, "I'm not gonna drive you to Chicago. I'll take you to LaGuardia, you can get on a plane."

The man says, "No, I can't do that, I've got a debilitating fear of heights, I can't fly. Can you drive me to the Palmer House?"

The cabbie says, "No, you can get out, walk a few blocks west, get on a train at Penn Station."

The man says, "That won't work, either. I got a conference at the Palmer House I got to get to by tomorrow morning. I need a cab."

The cabbie says, "Look, do you know how expensive a cab ride from New York to Chicago's gonna be?"

The man opens his wallet, offers the cabbie ten $100 bills, and says, "I'll give you the rest when you get me there."

The cabbie considers it, takes the money, and begins the trip.

He drives out of Manhattan, west down 33rd St. until he merges onto the Lincoln Tunnel ramp, then through the Lincoln Tunnel and into New Jersey, then through New Jersey until he merges onto the Pennsylvania Turnpike, then through Pennsylvania until he merges onto the Ohio Turnpike, then through Ohio until he merges onto the Indiana Turnpike, then through Indiana until, finally, he merges onto the Chicago Skyway Bridge.

(He stopped for gas a couple of times.)

But from the Skyway in Chicago it's a short trip to the Palmer House: he exits the interstate at Stony Island Ave. and takes it north to 57th St., where he turns right to merge onto Jean Baptiste Point du Sable Lake Shore Dr. He drives north up to Roosevelt Rd., then cuts over to Michigan Ave., takes it up to Ida B. Wells Dr., and then cuts over to Wabash Ave. He starts to take a right so he can drive north up Wabash to the Palmer House, then stops, realizes Wabash is a southbound one-way street, curses, and continues straight onto Dearborn St.

He turns right on Dearborn and takes it up to Monroe St., then cuts over once more to Wabash Ave., takes a right onto Wabash and drives one block south until, finally, he arrives at the Palmer House Hilton Hotel in Chicago.

The man pays the cabbie the rest of the fare (about $1950, but the man rounds it up to $2.5 grand with tip), thanks him, and sprints into the hotel just in time for his conference.

And, wouldn't you know it, as soon as the man is out of the cab, a woman sees the New York c

And I'm not convinced by her counterarguments.

He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?" The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, and even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before.

The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night; he tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave. Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again. The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk.” The man says, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk." The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."

The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks." In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."

The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound." The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door." The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond. Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door." The man is apprehensive; his life's wish is behind that door! With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the knob, and slowly pushes the door open. Falling to his knees, he is

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

A young man comes up with a great idea for a new shipping method. He designs everything himself, hires people to create models, and deduces that he can use old fashioned boating technology to increase shipping speeds by up to 350%. This is obviously a great innovation, so he calls up a former Business professor from college and gets into contact with a manufacturer. The manufacturer makes the man come in and present his design to the board of directors, so they schedule a meeting in two weeks.

At the meeting, the board is blown away. The man’s charisma, design, and equations all point to a massive innovation in shipping. The company is poised to make a huge profit. Construction starts immediately.

On his flight back, the man happens to sits next to his old buddy from high school, Jimmy. Jimmy tells the man that he has just blown the farming world wide open. His new GMO potato produces five times as much energy and has been the talk of the world. Jimmy says that all the news outlets have been reporting potatoes to be the next big superfood, and his design is poised to make him millions, if not billions of dollars. Jimmy pitches the man for the entire plane ride, and convinced him. They hop on the next flight back to visit the board of directors once again. The board is shocked. Both ideas stand to make billions of dollars for the company, but there is one slight problem.

The CEO says to the man, “we know you have these two ideas. However, we can only allocate enough resources to make one of them profitable. I recommend you take some time off and really decide which of these ideas you want our company to produce. We can schedule a meeting in a few weeks if that works for you.”

The man says right back to the CEO, “I’m going to take a walk and clear my head. This is a big decision” and walks right out of the room.

Not even five seconds later the man comes back into the room and says “I’ve made my decision. Let’s go with the shipping method.” This shocks the CEO, who says “are you sure?? This is a billion dollar decision and you only took five seconds to think about it.”

The man looks back at him and says “well, in this business time is money— so I decided to make my decision schooner rather than tater”

… u/ebkbk for this post: Today, my son asked "Can I have a book mark?" and I burst into tears. 11 years old and he still doesn't know my name is Brian. made on 24.11. with 38.9k upvotes

[also already made by u/Tface on 25.03. for 16.9k upvotes]

Let's move on to the top 3 of each month:

January:

1. Is this sub still active? by u/I_Fart_Liquids on 01.01. with 36.4k upvotes

2. Gonorrhea would have been a great name for diarrhea medicine by u/daugarten on 20.01. with 30.8k upvotes

3. An open letter to the mods of r/dadjokes: by u/Alfie_13 on 27.01. with 18.9k upvotes

February:

1. Was watching Star Wars with my daughter. She asked why Luke was climbing inside a Tauntaun, I said to keep warm. by u/jakeisbill on 05.02. for 20.3k upvotes

2. My daughter asked me what I'm posting on Reddit... by u/madazzahatter on 25.02. for 18.3k upvotes

3. When a woman is giving birth, she is literally kidding. by u/ownworldman on 23.02. for 17.7k upvotes

March:

1. I got an e-mail saying, "At Google Earth, we can read maps backwards!" and I thought... by u/madazzahatter on 21.03. for 22.2k upvotes

2. Today, my son asked "Can I have a book mark?" and I burst into tears. by u/Tface on 25.03. for 16.9k upvotes.

3. [When I reach home, my 1.5 y.o. son rushes out to the gate to sit in my lap while I park the car. Then he just grabs the steering and starts shaking it with brrrmmm brrrmmm sound. His cute antics always make me forget that he's suffering from a rare disease.](https://www.reddit.com/r/da

I'm a teacher with a group of students doing a science challenge about designing a launcher on an asteroid. A lot of them want to enter the competition with asteroid puns. One group has the name "Kiss my Asteroid." Am open to other suggestions! Thanks!

I was saddened to hear about the passing of Arnold Palmer recently. I'm not a big golf guy, and while he deserves his legacy as a great golfer, he was also an inventor of some note, and I think he deserves some recognition on that front, too. The story goes that while he was on a golf tour in Turkey, he was having a lot of trouble with sand traps there. On the spot, he invented a new type of pitching wedge. He designed it with a broader face, to open up the sweet spot and help get out of traps faster. Sadly, I don't think that he'll be remembered as the inventor of the open-faced Turkey sand-wedge.

I was working in the design studio with a bunch of other students. It's late and everyone is exhausted. A couple of the girls from my class start dancing and coming up with "new moves". Eventually they started giving their moves breakfast related names.

Girl 1: This is the scrambled eggs

Girl 2: And this one is called frying bacon.

Me: Wait, wait, wait... Can we open a bar and call it... The Breakfast Club?

A man is driving down the road and his car breaks down near a monastery. He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, "My car broke down. Do you think I could stay the night?"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, even fix his car. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Sirens that nearly seduced Odysseus into crashing his ship comes to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night. He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound.The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk." Distraught, the man is forced to leave.Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.The monks reply, "We can't tell you. You're not a monk."The man sa,ys, "If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk."The monks reply, "You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk."The man sets about his task. After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks."In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I traveled the earth and have found what you asked for: By design, the world is in a state of perpetual change. Only God knows what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception."The monks reply, "Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound."The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, "The sound is beyond that door."The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, "This is the last key to the last door."The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the kno