Piled Puns

Not mushroom on your plate.

(also works if there is everything but mushrooms self served)

A "Meow-tain"

A Smoregasbord

I watched it all unfold.

Now I'm parsley sighted.

it was braking gnus.

He felt it was a real tripping hazard.

A meowtain.

They had to do a compost-mortem.

(Credit to The Simpsons, the punchline came from a Treehouse of Horror ep)

I guess I wasn't much of a police detective.

I must've lost my memory

A meowntain.

heh

Russle.

He only has his shelf to blame.

Such a pain in the arse

He exclaims: "I only have my shelf to blame"

It’s just plain common scents.

The authorities report that the man had only his shelf to blame.

All morning he was tying them together with a piece of string and then wrapping them around his midsection. At noon I figured he could use a break, so I invited him out for lunch, but he said, "No, thanks, I'm watching my waistline."

That’s a lot of pressure.

HaagenDogs...

A "meowtain".

I got this joke from an interview with Melissa McCarthy who said that was one of her favorite jokes and now it's one of mine too!

But I’m just grasping at straws here.

That Woodstock was lit

They called him "almond dais" Mozart.

It’s biodegrading.

Police say, he had only his shelf to blame.

Russell

Edit: correct name spelling

"Of course I damn would."

He was picking his nose.

Dead ant, dead ant, dead ant dead ant dead ant, Dead ant.

It's my squeegee hoard.

But he’s only got his shelf to blame

I whispered, "It's a dead Jedi!"

... It was over ten stories tall.

It's Saturday, and it's a turd, eh...

until it's all of them, then it's the Allmond.

Knock Knock.

Who's there?

I'm a pile up.

"It's not a mountain. It's really more of a foothill."

He survived, but he's in a lot of pain.

It was absolute carnage

I said "Wow, he's sure set for retirement"

I was wearing my Crocs. Whadda croc o' shit.

A mass o'chew sets.

On top of it, I’m also banned from the maternity ward.

Matt

Hesasorearse

"What do they do with the rest of the Mole, anyway?"

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

"Hay, everybody!"

The groaning was "unstackable"!

Me: Dad what's with all the old knives?

Dad: I'm starting an old knife shop....

I never even got the real answer from him he wouldn't stop laughing

"Now that's what I call a lager"

Jeff went to his local train station and begged for the job. He got a job, as a janitor. Every day he swept the train car floors. To make his job easier, he added certain style to his sweeping technique. He used a 3 level system for how powerful he wanted to sweep. He had a small sweep for small piles of dust. Medium sweeps for leftover chip bags and plactic bottles. And the Super Mega Large sweeps for when there were spider webs as big as the train.

Jeff was a master sweeper, so he got Promoted!.. To hobo kicking. Nowadays he comes to the train station early in the morning, finds the nearest hobo, and kicks him out. However, Jeff's legs hurt after several strong kicks, so he used his 3 level system in hobo kicking. He had a small kick for tiny, bite sized hobos. Medium kicks for your average sized hobo. And his Super Mega Powerful kick for 300 pound hobos.

Jeff was sooooo good at kicking hobos and he was Promoted!.. to coal shoveling. Jeff arrives 20 minutes before his train departure, loads up with the conductor, and shovels coal. likewise with his legs, Jeff's arms got tired after several large piles of shoveled coal, so he used his 3 level system to rest Jeff's weak arms. Jeff dumps small piles of coal in the incinerator to send the train at a slow pace. He dumps a Medium pile for a somewhat fast pace. But when the train station's 30 miles away and he's scheduled to arrive in 7 minutes, Jeff uses his Big Gargantuan Humongous shoveling strength to send the train at super sonic speed!

After all of Jeff's many years of working for this train station, they finally promote him to Train Conductor! Jeff shows up to work 30 minutes early on his first day, conducts the train for his first time ever, and crashes the train. He injures 30 and kills 13 more. Jeff is sentenced to Death.

The day of Jeff's execution, he's asked for his last meal. Jeff tells the guard that he wants a 13 foot stack of pancakes and a 40 ounce jug of green Kool-Aid. Jeff takes exactly 34 minutes to eat with it all. 26 Mintues later, Jeff is taken to the electric chair.

Jeff sits down in the electric chair, and is strapped in by a nearby guard. After all the safety precautions, they turn on the electric chair.

BZZZZZZ

Nothin happened. The guard is confused and Jeff is confused. The guard trys it again.

BZZZZZZ

Nothing. Jeff doesn't even move a muscle. The guard decides to let Jeff go since he can't kill him. Before Jeff leaves, the guard has one question.

Guard : "Excuse me um, J

They scan the room and approach the table of an available recruitment officer. "Hello gentlemen, please have a seat and we can begin." The two men sit in the chairs and pull up to the table. "Now," says the recruitment officer, "hopefully we can find employment for both of you based on your prior work experience. We have a wide variety of jobs available. I'll ask you some questions and we can go from there." The two men nod eagerly in agreement. The officer turns to the first man. "Can you tell me what you did for work before today?" "I'm a pilot," the man replies. "Oh, that's great," the officer exclaims, "I already know that we are definitely looking for pilots!" He takes some notes and turns to the second man. "And can you tell me what you did for work before today?" "I'm a wood cutter," the man says in reply. "Oh, dear," the officer says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but we have don't have any positions like that. I'm afraid we can place your friend, but not you." "That's impossible!" the man sputters in disbelief. "I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do." says the officer. "We aren't currently looking for any wood cutters." "But that's insane!" the man shouts in frustration. "If I don't cut the wood, how is he supposed to pile it?"

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

I was working for a carpenter as work experience. He just got me to move planks from one pile to another

and woodn't you know it but I got pt having enough pretty board of not having actual qualitree experience.

I ended up getting so frustrated that I insulted him till I ran out of insults and was stumped. That's the story of how I decided to leaf being a builder behind me and branch out into new careers.

Dad: “With your eyes, sweetheart.”

“I’d take the bread from that pile and pile it over there.”

Said the man with piles

Mat!

my father loves these jokes back in the day. whos familiar with them all?

A Meowntain

A Moewntain

A Meowtain.

A Meowtain.

A meowntain

A Meowtain.

a MEOWtin

A meowntain.

A Meowtain.

Russell

A meowntain!

A meow-tain.

A meowtain

A meow-tain

A meowtain.

Police said he had only his shelf to blame

She had only her shelf to blame.

He's got only his shelf to blame

A meow-tain!

A meowntain

A meowntain.

A meowntain

A Meowntain.