Set Back Puns

...neither did she

Turns out it's illegal to Hasslehoff.

I said "This is stale, mate." He said "Are you sure?" I said "Check, mate".

It’s not funny, but I figured I’d take my Chance.

There was this heavy dresser and my dad said “Let’s tackle this now rather than later” I looked at the dresser, back at him, back to the dresser, and I said “Id rather lift it”

He gave me a funny look and sighed. My brother in law laughed.

Why do I have to do it an hour before I go to bed?

(My Dad actually just said this.)

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

We got to talking and I found out she worked as a stunt double on some pretty big name movie sets. She looked to be at least 10 years my senior but very fit and attractive and we both seemed to really be hitting it off.

Because all the immediate family in the local area had thrown a smaller, more private celebration for my father a few days prior, I didn't really feel a need to stick around any longer, so I asked the woman if she was interested in sharing some drinks with me at the nearby Hilton where I was staying. She happily accepted.

Suddenly, I turned towards the sound of my father's voice cheerfully calling out the name "Andra" (pronounced ON-druh) and my own as he approached. Andra, the woman I had been speaking with, turned towards him, glanced quickly back at me, then looked back again at my father and with a disconcerted look on her face exclaimed, "Oh brother!"

And that's when I realized the double, Aunt Andra.

The current version has a nasty virus

A garbage truck

There was a race horse named Pat, who was one of the greatest race horses to ever live. He set records that were near impossible to beat. After a long time of racing, he retired to an old stable with some old friends. They were very happy that he retired there to stay with him, and congratulated him on all of his records that he set.

Once Pat retired, he started keeping track of all the up and coming horses that were winning a lot. There was a race horse named Charlie that was doing really great and winning all his races. Pat saw this horse and watched him race. Charlie started to break all of Pat’s records and Pat was a little upset with this.

After a while, Charlie decided to retire after an extremely successful career in racing. By chance, Charlie decided to retire at the same stable that Pat retired in. When Charlie entered the stable, everyone went up to him to congratulate him on his records and wins. Pat went up to Charlie and said, “Hey Charlie congratulations on all of your wins! You broke a lot of my records and I was very impressed.” Charlie responds, “go away old man, I’m better than you ever were.” Pat was blown away by his response. He galloped away from Charlie with defeat.

After a while of thinking, Pat decides to challenge Charlie to a race. Charlie agreed to it and wanted to race right away. He said “We will race to the tree over there and turn around and come back and whoever gets there first will be the winner.” Pat was still healthy but he needed a few weeks to get his legs back into shape for the race. Charlie gives Pat 2 weeks to get ready.

After 2 weeks pass, they are ready to race. “Hey Pat, before we race I want to warn you that I win my races by passing them by the end. So don’t get all cocky and think you are going to win.” Charlie says. Pat thanks him for the warning and they start getting set to race.

The gun sounds and they are off to race. Pat starts out in front, and nears the finish. Out of know where, Charlie zooms ahead of Pat and wins the race.

Pat was very disappointed in his loss, but congratulated Charlie anyways. A dog comes up to them and says, “Wow, that was a fantastic race! Neither of you should be upset with that. You both were so great!” Charlie looks to Pat and Pat looks to Charlie. They are astonished. Charlie says, “Say that again! Say it again!” The dog says a little confused, “Well I just said that you both were so great out there.” Pat says, “Charlie! It’s a talking dog!”

It took him three days to make it to the closest town. To his dismay, nobody in that town had a horse for sale. So he started walking to the next town. After three days the man, exhausted, started asking around and looking for a horse for sale.Again, nobody could help him.He did,however,stumbled upon a place that sold horses but the man in charge was fresh out.

"Sold my last one just yesterday,"he said."I do, however, have a brother that sells horses. He's about a day's walk west.He owns a corral. He might have a horse to sell you."

So, once again, he sets foot West to the next town and finds the mans brother.

"I heard you might have a horse for sale, he asks."

"Well, I have one, but he don't look so good."he replies.

"I don't care. I've been walking for darn near a week and I'm tired and exhausted. I'll take him."

So after the man pays for the horse, he hops on him takes off and the horse hits a tree and stops.

"Hey,"the man says." I think you sold me a blind horse.Fact is, I'm sure of it!"

"Sir, I told you he don't look so good."the man fires back.

Back in the before times, when sit-down restaurants existed, I used to order boneless cheese sticks and would just throw the word "boneless" in front of any appetizer with 100% corniness. The purpose of this isn't to make a good joke. It's not a good joke. The purpose is to make my dining companions catch some cringe splash damage and want to crawl into a hole and die out of embarrassment for my being horribly corny.

But there is a real, deeper purpose that I've discovered entirely by accident. People, especially young people, are so self-conscious and worried about saying or doing something embarrassing that it taints a lot of social gatherings. They go to a restaurant and are afraid to speak up even when their order is blatantly wrong. They'll tip well even when the food took an hour to arrive and the server has disappeared into the corn stalks behind a baseball field. It takes 2 hours of hanging out together before some friends finally stop nitpicking themselves, uncomfortable in their own bodies and brains, feeling perpetually judged, and begin to relax. These are the kinds of people who go to sleep every night replaying cringey moments from high school. Their last thought of the day is when the Burger King girl said, "Enjoy your meal!" and they said, "Thanks, you too."

It takes 2 hours and/or a lot of booze before they're comfortable enough to take conversational risks and truly reveal themselves. But if I come right out of the gate with a really dumb joke, then we can cut to the chase. There's less danger because someone in the group already shot themselves in the foot, right off the bat. They pulled a pin on the cringe grenade and then jumped on it.

You cringe at my dumb joke and then we're over the hump. Someone has already done something pretty stupid, so go ahead and order the hubcap of nachos and a massive chocolate shake because nobody is going to judge you poorly while they're all judging me.

In terms of price negotiations (haggling), there is a psychological concept called "anchoring". You throw out the first number and all subsequent numbers are compared to that number. This is the same idea. We've already set the humor standard pretty low at "boneless cheese sticks", so you can say the dumbest shit you want and, as long as it's not worse than my cheesy joke, it won't matter.

This is why, when you were a teenager and your dad took you and some friends out, your dad made corny jokes. He knew they were corny jokes. You and your friends un

"Hey, barkeep!" he says, struggling to keep control of his quarry. "Any room for me and my friends?"

The bartender smiles and sets down some plastic cups. The man plops his friends inside, but the cups are too small.

"Um...barkeep?" the man says, pulling them out again. The bartender reaches for some larger mugs, but as he places them next to the cups, it becomes obvious that even these will be too small for the pigs.

Seeing the man struggle to continue holding them, the bartender runs to the kitchen for help.

A cook emerges, holding several large measuring cups. "Sorry, I just used these to make a batch of cheese dip, but they're all yours!"

The man carefully plops each pig into its respective gooey yellow cup.

Arms exhausted, breathing heavily, he drops into a stool at the end of the bar, between his tiny friends and a beautiful girl.

He glances her way, gasping coyly. "Hey...I'm...Tom."

She smiles, having watched the whole ordeal. "Hi Tom, I'm Liz. And if you don't mind me asking..." she laughs, looking over his shoulder, "what was that all about?"

He glances back at the bar. "Yeah...sorry," he pants. "I wanted...to impress you, but...it turned out to be...a pretty cheesy...pig-cup line."

I used to have a black cat named Big Guy. When I left for college, he stayed with my parents. One day I got a call from my mom and she mentioned he was missing. They hadn't seen him in a week. He was an indoor/outdoor cat and would occasionally disappear for a few days, but a whole week was unusual.

Anyway, I was bummed. I was set to visit the next week and was looking forward to seeing my cat.

I flew home and... it was weird. Now they had two cats! Both black. And Big Guy was back! But... why two cats now?

So here's the dad part. My mom started to really miss him. My dad saw this and went to the local shelters to see if anyone turned him in. He said, "After the 3rd one, I pretty much gave up."

So then my mom said, "So your father got another cat he thought looked "close enough" and tried to convince me it was Big Guy. I said, 'Have you lost it? This cat is a GIRL!'"

Then Big Guy came home.

"Could you please go shopping for me and buy one carton of milk and, if they have avocados, get six." A short time later, the husband returns with six cartons of milk. "Why did you buy six cartons of milk?" the wife asks. He replies, "They had avocados!"

There we were, sitting by the hearth last night.

Man on the television set: "Vote blue, no matter who."

Mother: "Father, do you think he means our darling pooch"?

Blue: Snoring on the rug, fat and lavish

Me: "Mother, you are a sensational one. Outrageous!"

Mother: With her head tilted back, unleashes a hearty guffaw

I thought you might enjoy this roguish exchange as much as mother and I did 😂😂😂

A man is walking into an expensive restaurant when he is stopped by the Maitre'D, who tells him that he can't be admitted without a necktie. The man, late for his appointment, runs back out to his car and searches high and low. Finally, out of desperation, he grabs a set of jumper cables, ties them into a rough knot around his neck and runs back into the restaurant. The Maitre'D stares at him for a few seconds and finally says, "Alright, I'll let you in..." and then leans in and says in a low growl, "but you'd better not try to start anything."

She was waving an illegal fire arm.

They go back and forth for a while, neither convincing the other that they are right. Finally they decide on a place to eat. When they get to the restaurant, one of the friends asks the person taking their order to settle it once and for all. "Me and my friend are having a debate and hopefully since you live here, you can set my friend straight. Would you please tell us... and say it clear and slow for my friend here... where are we?"

The person behind the counter gets a puzzled look on his face, then says

>!"Buuuuuurrrrrr gerrrrrr Kiiiiiiinnnnggg"!<

He was operating a late night train and fell asleep at the controls. He ended up failing to recognise a stop sign and as a result his train hit a person and killed them immediately. He was tried for manslaughter and sentenced to the electric chair. Just before being put in the chair, he was given the choice of final meal and chose a single banana, oddly. His time came and he was placed into the chair, the room vacated and then the switch was thrown.

But... Nothing. No sparks, no burning, nothing. They checked the machine and it was working fine, it just seemed not to harm him. The state law meant that, legally, his sentence had been carried out and he was free to go. He walked away a free man, and actually got another job as a train driver.

Sadly, almost exactly the same thing happened again. This time his negligence killed two kids playing around on the tracks when again he'd fallen asleep and failed to stop the train in time. Hauled before the courts again, he got exactly the same sentence - the electric chair. He was asked again for his final meal, chose two bananas this time, and his sentence was carried out again.

And yet again, he didn't die. In fact, he was entirely unharmed. The state law remained the same, so he was let out again, where - somehow - he got another job with another train company. I guess it was the only job he was trained for (pardon the pun). Anyway, this time he did much better and worked hard to stay awake during his late shifts. But sure enough, eventually he slipped back in to old habits and this time killed five people - a family trying to free their dog stuck in the tracks.

Once again he faced a jury, once again they found him guilty and a judge sentenced him to the electric chair. This time he asked for 5 bananas, but the guard was wiley - he has read about this man and how he always had bananas before his sentence was carried out, and so this time (with a grin, it's said) he brought the train driver 5 apples instead. The guilty man plead and begged for bananas, but the guard claimed it was an honest mistake but too late to change now.

The man was lead for a third time to the electric chair. His head was wetted, his arms strapped in, and the guard eyed him with something between wonder and fear. Finally the room was vacated and the switch thrown. Surely this time the machine would do its job? With the process finished, the guard ran back into the room, only to find the man still alive and looking entirely healthy. "I do

So the string goes outside and waits for a while. He goes back in and sets at the bar and orders a beer. The bartender says “we don’t serve string here. So, frustrated the string goes back outside and sits n the curb. Boom, he gets run over and tumbles and starts to come apart.
He goes back into the same bar and orders a beer. The bartender looks closely at him and says “hey aren’t you that piece of string that was just in here?” The string looks him in the eye and says “nope, I’m a frayed knot!”

which was my 40th birthday. The BIG Four Oh! As in "Oh, you're 40 and not married? What's wrong with you?"

And my friends, as awesome as they are, kept setting me up on blind dates, but I never seemed to click with any of the women. Pretty women, short women, tall women, rough women, successful women, lazy women - I dated them all and more often than not, they just weren't interested in me.

I think I probably went on twenty or so dates that never resulted in a a single follow up date.

But two months before my birthday, I started dating two women and both fledgling relationships seemed like they were going somewhere as they were getting really, really serious. I couldn't choose one, but I didn't care. I just couldn't believe they were into me. Okay, maybe they weren't the best looking, but I was so desperate for a wife, and I'm definitely no prize myself.

With a few weeks to go before my birthday, I knew I had to act if I had any hope of being married. I bought two rings and proposed to them both (on separate nights, of course) and they both said no. In fact, though they never knew of each other, I went from two good things to both of them not returning my calls. I guess proposing in a mall food court (for Jenny) or down on my knees in front of the bathroom at a minor league baseball game (Susan) were not my best laid plans, doomed to fail. Or maybe I just reeked of desperation.

So the morning of my birthday, I was practically in tears, deep in depression as I knew I missed my deadline. But my friends came though, kind of. They took me out bar hopping and then we all went back to my place where they had a stripper waiting in my favorite chair. She got up, sat me down, and gave me a grinding lap dance. She said nothing, but after a minute, stopped, turned around, looked me in the eye and said "one." Then she started up again, stopped after a minute, turned around and said "two..."

This went on all night until she got to "forty."

It's been a few months now, and I'm not too sad. My friends really tried to get me married, and after two near mrs, I guess it was the thot that counts.

So this needs a little backstory.

About 10 years ago my wife and I went to see the comedian Jim Gaffigan in Santa Rosa, CA where we live. About 2/3 the way through his set, he did an old Steve Martin bit. I leaned over to my wife and said quietly (or so I thought,) "Steve Martin called, he wants his bit back."

Apparently Mr. Gaffigan heard me, because he did the last 1/3 of his set staring at his shoes.

Flash forward to last night. We were at a public event with TONS of people, loud music, dancing, whatever. Some guy walked by wearing an outrageously funny outfit, and I leaned very close to my wife's ear to make a comment about it. She mildly upset and said, "Don't do a Jim Gaffigan," she said.

I blinked and leaned in again and said, clearly: "You mean...Don't make a Jim Gaffe Again?"

True story. My wife feeds a number of squirrels on our patio in back of our house. Has done this for years.

Coming home from the grocery store today, this was our conversation.

Her: The other day I saw an owl land in a tree near the back of our house. So I made noises to make the squirrels run and hide.

Me: Well, I'm sure the owl is just looking for three squirrel meals a day.

Her: GROAN...! I can't believe I set you up like that!

The year is 1541 and the French have just begun colonization in North America. Young Jean-Luc is in his newly crafted home when suddenly his friend Jean-Pierre bursts through his front door. 'Jean Luc!' he exclaims. 'You weel nevar believe! I 'ave 'eard word of a bacon tree!'. Jean-Luc looks confused and scoffs 'Imposseeble! You cannot grow BaycON on a tree!'. 'Come! And I weel show you ze bacon tree!'. So Jean-Luc & Jean-Pierre set off down the river, with Jean-pierre providing direction to the enigmatic 'bacon tree'. Finally, they pulled over onto a small beach that lead to a large forest. 'Stay 'ere and watch ze canoe, and I weel bring ze bacon back from ze bacon tree!' said John-Pierre. Hours go by and John-Pierre hasn't returned. As night falls, and Jean-Luc is about to enter the forest to look for his friend, he hears a rustling in the nearby brush, to which Jean-Pierre stumbles out, bloody and with arrows through his legs and arms. 'Jean-Pierre! What 'appened!!' exclaimed Jean-luc. 'Turns out it was not a bacOn tree.....it was an 'AMBUSH!!!'

He sets it on a plinth and tells the students they’re free to take a couple after class is over. Halfway through teaching the senpai or sensei’s assistant approaches and tells him he has an important phone call. He tells the class to find a partner and practice. He comes back fifteen minutes later and the plinth is knocked over, the bowl is in pieces and the wontons crushed and scattered about. He is dismayed that his students would engage in such sensei-less wonton destruction.

Wife: Will you please put your daughters clothes on?

Me: I tried. they don't fit me!

One man pulled an old guitar off the wall that hadn’t been tuned in years and gave it to the octopus.

The octopus took the guitar, tuned it right up and began play.

There was no doubt that the octopus was an excellent guitar player.

The man paid his handler $50 and sat down.

Another man brought a saxophone to the octopus.

The octopus took it and stared for a bit.

After a minute or two the octopus began playing a deep and soulful jazz solo.

This man paid his $50 and sat down.

The bartender went into the back and brought out a set of bag pipes.

The bartender said, “I’ll bet $100 that the octopus can’t play these bagpipes.”

The man agreed and handed them to the octopus.

The octopus sat there eyeing the bagpipes up and down for quite awhile.

The handler began to get nervous so he said to the octopus, “Hurry up and start playing the thing”

The octopus spewed, “Play it?! I wanna marry her!"

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

Dwayne Johnson recently came to the arts and crafts store I own looking to buy equipment for the wardrobe department for his latest movie. He asked if we could quickly fill a large order of cloth-cutting shears. I told him yes, but given the rush, we couldn't offer a bulk discount. For the next hour, Mr. Johnson haggled with me, insisting on paying a single, reduced price for the order of shears rather than the standard per-item price.

With my frustration growing, Mr. Johnson wouldn't back down. Finally, he made a desperate attempt to get the deal he wanted: he suggested we play any simple game of my choice; winner sets the price structure for the shears. He then asked me what I wanted to play.

Fed up, I shouted: Rock! Pay per scissors!

So this is a bit long, sorry about that.

Zorro and his best bud the Lone Ranger were riding through the desert one day, I forget where they were heading to or where they had come from, but we can safely assume shenanigans of some kind were the driving force.

They have been travelling for most of the day and are starting to get tired. There has been a discussion about making camp for the night, but as things are they have agreed to continue riding for a while longer, till the sun starts to set. Away and off to the west the Lone Ranger spies a plant that seems to have large pink flowers that hang in strips with white stripes running the length of them.

"Zorro, what's that over there?" he asks.

Zorro turns in his saddle and raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Ah, it looks like a bacon tree, quite common in these parts. Let's ride on, there is a good place an hour from now to set up camp."

The two friends ride on and as the sun is beginning to descend the have stopped and are making camp. As Zorro begins to make a fire he says to the Lone Ranger, "You know, I quite fancy some pork. You ride back to that bacon tree and get some for supper, and I'll finish setting up camp here."

"No problem Zorro, I won't be long" replies the Ranger, jumping back into the saddle and returning the way they came.

Time passes, and the sun begins to get low in the sky. 'Odd', thinks Zorro 'he should be back by now.' Another hour passes and the shadows are growing longer. 'I might have to go investigate, it's not like him to take his time.' More time passes, and, just as Zorro has decided that he must go search for his friend in the dwindling light, he hears the sound of Silver's hooves. Looking into the gathering gloom he sees his friend riding towards him. As the Lone Ranger nears Zorro can see the Lone Ranger is injured, there are cuts and bruises and he has an arrow through his hat.

"What on earth happened, Lone Ranger? Did you make it to the Bacon tree?"

The Lone Ranger dismounts and sighs heavily.

"That weren't no Bacon tree, Zorro. That was an Hambush."

Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-

He said, "So I'll go first?"

I said sure.

I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.

He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.

He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.

Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.

After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.

I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"

He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."

(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)

He seats himself at a table. The sight is so strange that the owner comes over personally and asks, "Can I help you?" The panda replies, "Do you have anything with bamboo?" The owner answers, "We have a few Chinese dishes that have bamboo." The panda says, "I'll just have the bamboo." So the owner heads to the kitchen and soon returns with a plate of bamboo. The panda eats every last morsel, then pulls out a pistol, fires it into the ceiling, and walks out. The owner is startled and completely confused, so he follows the panda all the way back to the zoo. When he finds the zoo keeper, he walks up and asks, "Do you have any idea what your panda just did? He came into my restaurant, ate a bunch of bamboo, pulled out a pistol, fired it into the ceiling, and walked out." The zoo keeper replied, "Well, of course, he's a panda; that's what they do." Then, when he saw the owner was still confused, added, "Haven't you ever read about pandas?" More confused than ever, the owner walks home. He gets out his old set of encyclopedias, dusts off the letter "P, " and turns to the entry on pandas: "The panda is a large mammal, native to China; it eats bamboo shoots and leaves."

One day he decided to get a whole new set of cutting boards from Acme Board Co. However, while doing prep for all-you-can-eat hotwings night, he dropped one of the boards and it shattered.

He said, "Well, back to the old raw wing board."

A friend set me up with this girl and we start texting to make plans to go out. She says "I'm busy packing right now, I'm visiting my family in Alaska next week."

Of course, I replied "That sounds fun! When you get back Alaska bout it!"

And I never heard from her again.

The warden saw that deep down, Andy was a good person and made arrangements for Andy to learn a trade while doing his time.

After three years, Andy was recognized as one of the best carpenters in the local area.

Often he would be given a weekend pass to do odd jobs for the citizens of the community and he always reported back to prison before Sunday night was over.

The warden was thinking of remodeling his kitchen and in fact had done much of the work himself.

But he lacked the skills to build a set of kitchen cupboards and a large counter top, which he had promised his wife.

So he called Andy into his office and asked him to complete the job for him.

But, alas, Andy refused.

He told the warden, "Gosh, I'd really like to help you but counter fitting is what got me into prison in the first place."

So, a few weeks ago, someone posted a pretty long dad joke. Here's mine--it's what my dad would call a "Shaggy dog story".

The dolphin trainers at the zoo were very upset because the dolphins were very ill and getting worse. An animal shaman told them that he could not only cure the dolphins, but make them live forever--all he needed were some young sea gulls. The trainers immediately set off to find some young sea gulls.

While looking for the gulls, a lion at the zoo escaped. The trainers didn't care--they had to save the dolphins. They found their gulls and were making there way back to the dolphin enclosure when they came across the lion. Fortunately, it was dead asleep, having been hit with a tranquilizer dart--but it was right in the middle of the path. So, they carefully stepped across it, and were immediately arrested. The crime? Transporting young gulls across state lions for immortal porpoises.

I'm here today to tell you all a horrible story, so that none of you have to go through the same experience as my friend.

My friend, Hugh, is a very religious man, who is also involved in our community. 2 weeks ago, our local church burned down and Hugh believed it was his Christian duty to help them get back on their feet. Hugh allowed the friars of the church to set up a cart in his mall to sell their flowers. Every day, the friars came in at 7:00 in the morning with a bushel of beautiful flowers and began to work diligently to arrange them into bouquets. All was going well, the mall was generating more revenue and the church was making more money than they were by selling the flowers in front of the church on Sunday. Everyone was happy; until that first weekend.

Our town is kinda tourist-y, so we get some out-of-towners on the weekends. A gay couple came to the mall the first weekend that the friars had taken up shop (Typically, our town is pretty progressive, but the friars tended to be uber-conservative). The couple came over to the cart and admired the flowers; they tried to purchase a bouquet, but the friars refused to sell to them. The couple was outraged and went to see Hugh directly. They complained to him that the friars were being discriminatory, so Hugh promised to have a talk with the friars. When Hugh confronted the friars, they refused to sell to the couple on the grounds that “they were committing an atrocity in the eyes of the lord.” The couple stormed off and promised to boycott the cart.

This past weekend, the couple came back with a large group and a letter from the mayor, saying that the friars had to sell to them, regardless of sexual preference. The friars stood firm and refused to sell to them, so the group started a protest. They brought in signs and started chanting around the cart. The friars continued to sell their flowers and Hugh allowed them to remain, so eventually the protest began to boycott the mall, rather than just the cart.

By today, the mall had lost 50% of its normal weekend revenue. The group sent a letter to Hugh saying that they could forgive him if he shut down the flower cart within the week. Hugh was pretty broken up, but he had no choice. To maintain his livelihood, he would have to kick the friars out of his store. He talked with the friars this morning and revoked their previous agreement. The friars had their cart packed and left by 7:30, to huge cheers from the community. The mall has been pretty norm

People often come up to me with their debit card and ask: "is there any money on my card?" To which I respond, "no.", without pulling up their accounts.

When they look at me with a confused face I give them their card back with a penny set on top of it.

"There! Now there is money on your card!"

A director and a costume designer had a disagreement over a critical shot in the horror movie they were filming in their studio.

The director planned to use CGl for a brief but critical reveal-shot of the movie's monster. But the costume designer insisted they use an actual costume instead of CGl.

"CGl makes a movie look cheap these days," she proclaimed.

The two of them continued debating until they began arguing. The stage crew, actors on break, and other people around them began watching until both the costume designer and director were shouting over each other at the top of their lungs. Despite their efforts, nobody could calm them down.

Fearing the incident may lead to blows, one of cameramen called a studio security guard in urgent request. The guard arrived a minute later and made a beeline for the director and costume designer, who were being held back by multiple people on set.

"lt's my movie. l make the decisions!" the director hollered, hoarse and red in the eyes.

"The movie quality will suffer!" the costume designer screamed, hair plastered across her sweaty face.

The security guard stepped in-between them and raised his pistol at the ceiling without a word. They continued to argue around him. There was a bark of gunshot, then nothing but silence and some falling plaster.

"Now see here," the guard said loudly, stepping back to look at the two of them. "Either you two quit your bickering or l'll have to escort you off the premises. You're making a scene."

Neither did she.

I just don’t know how far it would set me back