Scratch Up Puns

Now all I need is a toothbrush.

A face-plant.

So he says to me: "My car got SON damage!"

Cheered me right up.

They weren't up to scratch.

The operator said ‘Have a nice day son’. ‘Don’t call me son’ I said. ‘You’re not my dad’ The operator scratched his head and said ‘No, but I brought you up didn’t I?’

He heard there was a lot of scratching involved.

I just texted this to my wife, and she told me to get away from her. xD

I came up with this one as I was looking at my son's mouse pad he got for christmas. https://smile.amazon.com/gp/product/B07DGXR859/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_asin_title_o04_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

I said, "Oh, how'd you get that?"

He was like, "I honestly don't remember, I came home and noticed it."

I put my hand on his forehead and said, "Do you have a fever?"

He said, "Nope, I feel fine."

And I said, "Good ............... it's not a cat scratch then."

He still gets mad about when I bring it up.

To his surprise, when he scratched it off he had won a million dollars. The man picked up his phone right away to call his wife.

Man: “Honey, I won the lottery! Pack your bags!”

Wife: “That’s amazing! I’m so excited where are we going?!”

Man: “I don’t know where you’re going, but be out by 5!”

..he was all bloody and scratched up. I yelled "dad you look awful!" to which he responded

"If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy! He lost several limbs!"

He will do three things. Guaranteed.

1. Pick up a bottle of milk and shake it, asking if we want milkshake.

2. Go up to a young teenager stacking shelves and ask for whatever they're currently restocking on the shelves and watch as they scratch their heads and look around only to hold out the item with a dumb look on their face (which surprisingly happens almost every time)

3. Will get a bottle of water from the shelf and hold it high with one hand and drop it, catch it with his other hand then say "did you see that?! It was a beautiful waterfall!!!"

Obviously a hearty dad-chuckle follows each of these actions.

A quaint little men's class,

a few with class,

some smelling of a gin glass,

some with eyes of a lass,

the remainder eyeing a lad,

but all glad,

and all present,

youngster of the present,

bearders of the crescent,

readers new testaments,

preachers of old testaments,

bearers of saffron tenets,

wearers of white tints,

weird lovers of croissant,

well, all here, will all hear?

we never know,

lets look at the show

 

The English teacher, said,

"how to drink a juice?"

i know, said bart the bartender,

"with vodka and chicken tender"

the weirded beardo now angry,

showed he was a shouter,

wanted to be a bart-ender,

while shushing the crowd,

use a pipe, piped up a voice, loud,

"huh" exclaimed preacher pastor,

"no smoking" he said, showing a guilty fluster ,

"no sir" said the voice,

I'm extra maker,

spoke the voice quicker,

Mr.White scratching head,

"I'm an ex-straw maker",

the air cleared.

 

Proceeding further, Teacher continued,

the class was listening, eyes glued,

"etiquette is important" he said,

"wear napkin before eating",

their faces changed,

pulse now beating,

Mr.White said, "sir, we don't bleed",

an irritated saffron Sundar spoke,

"if you bleed, education you don't need"

the English sir, now a sundered bloke,

calmed the masked fish market,

as his God's fate chisel hammered,

"Do you know how to fork?" he stammered,

a brief silence, and too many whispers later

"I Pen is use sir", said a bright face,

"Do you know how to use a fork?" he corrected,

with damage now done, Silence resumed.

 

>ThePundits

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"???

A man is riding his horse through the desert, and, well, he starts to get thirsty. He sees a small town off in the distance, so he sets off in that direction to get some water for his horse and some whiskey for hisself.

Well, as he gets into that little town he starts to notice something peculiar. Not a soul is out. Sun's setting, but still plenty of light. Water in the horse troughs tells him it ain't a ghost town, but folks ain't comin' out for some reason.

Now, as soon as he turns onto the town's main street, he sees a soberin' sight; the sheriff, on a ladder, hammering the last nail into a brand new gallows. He sidles his horse on up to the sheriff and says, "Pardon me sheriff. I don't mean to pry, but pray tell, who're them gallows fer?"

The sheriff looks around, surprised to see someone out. He steps down, takes off his hat and scratches the back of his head thoughtfully, before replying, "Well, I reckon you must be a stranger in these parts. I reckon then that you ain't never heard of Brown Paper Bart. Anyway, we're lynchin' him come sunrise."

"Brown Paper Bart? I reckon not, sheriff. That's a mighty peculiar name, pray tell, whaddaya call him Brown Paper Bart fer?"

"Wayill, I reckon we call him Brown Paper Bart on account 'a the fact that everything he wears is made a' brown paper. His hat's made a' brown paper, his boots is made a' brown paper. His chaps is made a' brown paper, his neckerchief's made a brown paper. Heck dang shoot, even his lunch bag is made a' brown paper!"

The man looks at the sheriff a moment, perplexed, before replying, "Well, sheriff, I reckon that's a mighty peculiar thing for a man to do, but that don't explain these brand new gallows. Pray tell, what're you lynchin' Brown Paper Bart fer?"

[Insert a dad-length pause here.]

"...Rustlin'."

So, my wife and I decided to move this freestanding shelf thing to our dining area. However, we have wood floors, so pretty much anything that's put there (table, chairs) has to have these felt pads on the bottom so it doesn't scratch up the floor. Even if this won't get moved around much, if at all, I felt better about putting the pads on the bottom of this shelf as well, just in case.

My wife has been bugging me to do it for a while, but you know, laziness. Finally, earlier tonight, I cut the felt sheets to size, stuck them on the shelf, and put it where it belongs. When I was done, I called my wife over. "I'm in bed!" "It'll be quick, I promise!" groan "You don't even have to come downstairs, you can see it from the hallway outside the bedroom door!"

Finally she came out, with a "this had better be good" look on her face. I pointed to the shelf, and proudly declared that "I felt up this rack!"

Worth it.

We were at a bookstore, and my dad was looking at animal field guides:

Me: Hey look, this one says it's for "Texas Wildlife Scats and Tracks."

Dad: Oh yeah? Picks it up

Me: Yeah! With that you'd be able to to tell who's poops were who's.

Dad: Well yeah, it's scratch and sniff.

Said it so matter of fact that I almost missed it.

So I work at a help desk at school and we're out of blank paper. A girl comes up and goes "Where's the scratch paper?". I immediately get some paper and start scratching it and proceed to give it to the girl. My coworker's dead silent and so it the girl who wanted paper.

My dad is a night owl and my mum is an early bird, meaning he has a good few hours to plot and scheme his dadjokes...

Well the other evening, he decided to scare the living daylights out of my mum by drawing a face on a melon, stuffing it in a hoodie with rubber-gloves, shoes and jeans and posed it in our morning room.

Now my mum gets up real early, and walks around the house in a grumpy daze, grumbling, scratching and squinting and whatnot with a grim face looking for something to nag about, so you can imagine the sheer pride he (probably) felt wrapped up in bed with that dumb dadjoke grin from his "Hilarious prank", to hear a loud "AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" coming from across the hall.

Needless to say i'm pretty sure she found something to nag about that morning.