Pine Tree Puns

I responded without missing a beat, "That, my son, is a pine apple."

Shoutout to the mom passing by who witnessed and appreciated this gem.

He looks down and sees that a full-grown elephant is slowly clambering up the tree. When the elephant finally reaches the branch the squirrel asks, "Why on earth did you climb up into this pine tree?!"

The elephant then says, "I came up here to eat some pears, of course."

The squirrel, completely shocked at the elephant's ignorance, exclaims, "You elephants don't know the first thing about trees! This is a PINE tree, there are no pears here."

The elephant then explains, "Oh, I know, I brought my own."

It starts beige-ing

Because it was knotty

A Pine-apple!

They always drop their needles!!

Because they are sappy

https://preview.redd.it/l1bw02kr5k131.png?width=799&format=png&auto=webp&s=3e9d827518b2c69da1d87c1815a47a208a906c7a

I'm trying to find a good pun for pine or pine tree that is wedding/marriage themed.

A Chris pine tree

But he's not the balsa me.

The lumberjack grinned, “And you will dialogue!"

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

S*pine* trees!

Me: "Do you know if they are rejecting any trees at the firehall this year?"

Wife: "No...? I haven't heard anything"

Me: "I guess they still have an o-PINE door policy!"

Wife: "I hate you so much right now"

Out riding in the car with my boyfriend this evening.

Me: The trees look really pretty in this lighting.

Him: Yeah they really do! That one pine tree has scoliosis.

Me: Oh, does it?

Him: Yeah! Do you see it?

[I see the tree he is referring to.]

Me: nodding yes

Him: (nonchalantly) I guess it's just the curvature of the pine.

I laughed really hard.

My brother: "I thought you might get bored being at home, so I taped you some holiday soaps".

He handed me a santa- and pine-tree-shaped hand soap, taped together.

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.

The wife, kids and I were out at the lot to cut down our tree.

The guide asked us if we wanted to be shown where the pine tree lot was.

I did the "oh no you didn't" double snap of my fingers and said:

Birch, Please!

Whenever my step-mom makes a recipe with pine nuts in it, my dad always says, "Ah yes, pine nuts. From the male pine tree!"

And on the way home, we were discussing how plants retrieve nutrients, and why pine trees can survive through the winter. I said, "I wonder if it stems from the shape of their leaves?" To which my dad responded, "Well, I suppose we just got to the root of the problem, so I bet we can just leaf it at that."

Pine. Because pine needles while oak leaves.

“You idiot, this is a pine tree, there are no pears!”

“Well I brought my own pears.”