Pocket Door Puns

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

Before you let your kids get a puppy, take the Puppy Test.

Best taken in the autumn or mid winter.

1. Buy a lead and tie it to a big stone, walk around dragging the stone behind you.
2. Get up at 5am, go out in the pouring rain and walk up and down a muddy path, repeating good girl/boy, wee wees...poo poos, quickly please
3. Stuff your pockets with plastic bags and pick up all the poo you can find, obviously not your dogs as you have not bought it yet ??
4. Start wearing your shoes indoors, especially during muddy times
5. Collect leaves off the ground and spread them on the floor
6. Carry sticks and branches indoors and chop them up on your carpet
7. Pour cold apple juice on the rug and floor....walk barefooted over it in the dark
8. Drop some chocolate pudding on your carpet in the morning and then try to clean it in the evening
9. Wear socks to which you have made holes using a blender
10. Jump out of your favorite chair just before the movie ends and run to open the back door
11. Cover all your best clothes with dog hair, dark clothes with blond hairs and light clothes with dark hairs
12. Tip all just ironed clothes on the floor
13. Make little pin holes in all your furniture, especially chair and table legs
14. When doing dishes, splash water all over the place and don't wipe it.
15. Spread toilet paper all over the house when you leave the house and tidy up when you get back home
16. Forget any impulse holidays and/or breaks
17. Always go straight home after work or school
18. Go for walks no matter what the weather, and inspect every dirty paper, chewing gum and dead fly you might find
19. Stand at your back door at five in the morning shouting, "Bring Mr Bumble and Mr Lion in, its raining.”
20. Wake up at 3am. Place a correct size bag of flour on top of yourself and try to sleep, whilst wiping your face with a dishcloth, which you have left next to your bed in a bowl last week.
    Repeat everyday over 6 months and if you still think getting a puppy sounds like a good idea, Congratulations, you might be ready for your kids to get your puppy.

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

A blonde, wanting to earn some money, decided to hire herself out as a 'handy-woman' and started canvassing a nearby well-to-do neighborhood. She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any odd jobs for her to do.

"Well, you can paint my porch," he said, "how much will you charge me?"

The blonde, after looking about, responded, "How about $50?"

The man agreed and told her that the paint and other materials that she might need were in the garage.

The man's wife, inside the house, heard the conversation and said to her husband, "Does she realize that the porch goes all the way around the house?"

The man replied, "She should; she was standing on it. Do you think she's dumb?"

"No", replied the wife. "I guess I'm guilty of being influenced by all those 'dumb blonde' jokes."

A short time later, the blonde came to the door to collect her money.

"You're finished already?" the husband asked.

"Yes," the blonde replied, "and I had paint left over, so I gave it two coats."

Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50.00 and handed it to her.

"And by the way," the blonde added, "it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

A little blue man finds a little yellow string and doesnt know what it's for so he goes into his little blue bedroom and asks his little blue wife what it's for. She says she doesnt know and that he should ask the little red man.

So he goes out his little blue bedroom down his little blue stairs, down the little blue hallway, out the little blue door, down the little blue path, out the little blue gate down the little blue path and out the little blue village. Into the little red village, up the little red road, though the little red gate, up the little red path, though the little red door up the little red hallway and into the little red living room and asked the little red man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little green man"

So he goes out the little red living room, down the little red hallway, out the little red door, down the little red path, out the little red gate down the little red path and out the little red village. Into the little green village, up the little green road, though the little green gate, up the little green path, though the little green door up the little green hallway and into the little green living room and asked the little green man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little brown man"

So he goes out the little green living room, down the little green hallway, out the little green door, down the little green path, out the little green gate down the little green path and out the little green village. Into the little brown village, up the little brown road, though the little brown gate, up the little brown path, though the little brown door up the little brown hallway and into the little brown living room and asked the little brown man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little yellow man"

So he goes out the little brown living room, down the little brown hallway, out the little brown door, down the little brown path, out the little brown gate down the little brown path and out the little brown village. Into the little yellow village, up the little yellow road, though the little yellow gate, up the little yellow path, though the little yellow door up the little yellow hallway and into the little yellow living room and asked the little yellow man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied " yeah when you get home pull it for a suprise"

So he g

I set my items on the counter, and the cashier starts ringing them up one after another while I wait patiently. I notice the guy in line behind me a few people still acting a little weird, antsy is how I would describe it.

Anyways, the cashier snaps me out of my thoughts by telling me my total and as I go to reach for my wallet, I see the guy dashing out the door.... as in transfixed on his fleeing image, my hand reaches my pocket and I realize he's stolen my wallet!

I make a mad dash for him, chasing him down in the middle of the parking lot. He reaches his vehicle at the other end and as he hops in, I catch up to him and I'm able to grab his leg. I start pulling his leg and pulling his leg harder and harder trying to get him out.

I keep pulling his leg very similarly to how I've been pulling your leg for the last minute.

The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.

The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.

Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and that’ll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.

“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.

“Please, call me Max”

“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”

“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”