Shape Up Puns

My sister walks up to me and asks: “Are you creating a pyramid scheme?”

Stand-coms would've made for better outcomes.

I have a hunch it might be me.

...don't use shallot."

He was charged with sexual battery.

Because, well, Y knot?

Me: "hi I'm jimmy ice cream eyes" Her: "hi Jimmy, you're looking sharp today.." As she walked away.

It's like she doesn't even have to try

Me, reminiscing about friends: "I just love my debate family so much."

His response: "Why? All you guys do is argue all the time."

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!”

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor

It was ruled by a fair king who joyfully ruled his land. Unfortunately, the kingdom was also home to a wicked thief who loved nothing more than causing mayhem for all the inhabitants of the land.

However, the thief was not your ordinary thief. He only stole bells. Any kind of bell, whether a tiny bell from a kitten’s collar, all the way up to the bell from the king’s royal bell tower.

When the king awoke one morning, the bell tower’s bell was missing. The king, being brave and noble, decided to follow the thief back to his lair. He chose four of his most loyal soldiers, mounted his horse, and rode off into the snowy woods, following the footprints left behind on the ground.

Soon, he and his soldiers arrived to a clearing in the woods. In front of them was a large, bell-shaped building. They found the thief’s lair!Pointing to the recent tracks left in the snow by the thief, the king announced to the soldiers,

“Look! The Fresh Prints to Bell Lair!”

Not completely sure this is a dadjoke but it sure got the same reaction. This happened about two years ago.

My wife used to work nights and on Friday and Saturday after she went to work, my then-12yo son and I would often watch a movie together. Sometimes he picked, usually it was a movie from The List, movies I liked when I was his age, things that shaped my sense of humor. I want him to be able to recognize the stupid quotes and references I throw at him. It’s his cultural education.

So we settled in for Groundhog Day. I’m a sucker for time travel shenanigans. Finished it up, he enjoyed it, and the next morning he was off to Boy Scout camp for a week.

He came back, we’re all excited to see him, and I tell him I got Groundhog Day 2 from Netflix. Threw it in the DVD player and we got about 20 minutes into before he looked at me and said “this is just Groundhog Day all over again, isn’t it? There is no Groundhog Day 2.”

So worth an extra week hanging onto the disc.

My best friend lives on the East Coast. I’m on the West. He often streams his games over Skype so I can hang out and watch. He was playing the Witcher 3, and fighting the water monster men. I said “They just want to know the shape of you,” and he coincidentally died at that moment.

He got really, really mad. I always knew my puns annoyed him a little, but when I was sad, he’d tell dumb puns he’d google to cheer me up. But he just went into a tangent on how much puns annoy him and how he doesn’t get that I keep doing them over and over again every day whenever I talk with him. Trying to stop or cut back on puns would be pretty difficult and make me sad; I love witty wordplay and commentary, and bottling it up feels awful. But apparently it really, really annoys him.

What should I do?

They are both quality control managers and are instructed to check on the product before leaving.

They go below deck and open on of the boxes, and inside are hundreds of potatoes. One of them picks one up and notices that it’s a very odd shape for a potato. He picks up another and is also perplexed by its peculiarity.

He picks up a third and realizes that they are all shaped like penises. He says to his friend “I don’t think we can work on this ship with all these penis potatoes.”

So they go up to the captains quarters to quit. When they arrive they say “Captain, we cant work on this ship. We would like to get off.”

He looks them in the eye and says, “I’m sorry gentlemen. This isn’t a democracy. It’s a dictatorship.”

—

Originally read on r/jokes , but reworded for brevity.

So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch

Little Harold attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse's legs and rump, and chest. After a few minutes, Harold asked, 'Dad, why are you doing that?' His father replied, 'Because when I'm buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy. Harold, looking worried, said, 'Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom ....'

"You better shape up"

The plot is Gilbert Gottfried playing himself is sent back in time to kill Stalin (also played by Gilbert Gottfried). But Gilbert ends up slowly falling in love with Stalin as they bond over things like pancakes shaped like barn animals and making snow angels. The movie ends with Gilbert and Stalin getting married and raising two kids named Jenny and Egor (played by Gilbert Gottfried) in the suburbs with their golden retriever, Rex (played by Gilbert Gottfried)

So some birds were flying over us in that V-shape they tend to fly in, and my old man looked up, almost in awe, and said to me:

Dad: Wow, look at those birds, son. See how they fly in that V shape?

Me (in a genuine child-like awe): Yeah, that's cool, dad.

Dad: See how one side of the V is longer than the other?

Me: Yeah.

Dad: You know why that is?

Me: No, why?

Dad: Cause there are more birds on that side, dumbass.

I grew up in Vermont. Around my town were plenty of dairy farms, inviting the always wonderful manure aroma. An aroma that nearly forced my father to inhale deeply through his nose, saying, "Ah, fresh Vermont air!"

That's an excellent Dad one liner, as are most dad jokes, but he had another great one that I'm getting to.

You see, the hay bails we saw growing up in Vermont were mostly the cube variety. Hay bailing technology at the time created cubes of hay, so that's what dotted the fields they'd graze in.

As we grew older, we starting noticing the now more common round bails of hay. Dad was not pleased.

I asked him what the problem was or, at least, what his problem was with the round bails. The best jokes are set up when you ask for them.

So, he tells me. New farming technology allowed the round bails to be created more efficiently. They used less fuel in the bailers, took less passes on the field to gather the hay. They used less twine, and even though they didn't fill a truck as well as square bails, there was still a net monetary gain from the efficiency gained elsewhere.

However, studies were done on the bails. The cows approached them differently due to the different alignment of surface area. The way the rain hit the bails and rolled off as opposed to soaking in leached nutrients out of the hay. Some cows even mistook the shape of bail for another animal, and approached them so nervously that their heart rates were known to raise significantly; such a rate that a tinge of acidity could be tasted by those in the know in their milk.

What all of this amounted to... is that with the new round bails of hay, the cows just weren't getting a good square meal.

So here's the setup: I recently started working for a taxi cab company. It's surprisingly lucrative, and a shitload better than McDonalds.

So I'm working, and I'm parked in front of a bar, hoping that a fare is gonna knock on my window, when about twenty feet or so in front of me, I see a very good friend of mine. I shout, and we spend the next few minutes shooting the breeze. A fare knocks on my window, and I driver her to where she needs to go.

After, I'm driving back to that bar, and I get a call from my friend, asking if I had another fare lined up. I didn't so he told me to come back, he's got a group for me. They get in the car, and these guys start bugging the shit out of me. Which I can handle. What I can't handle is when they start dealing each other cocaine in my back seat. At that point, I'm just livid. I tell them to give me my money and get the fuck out of my car.

Later, I chat my friend up on Facebook. I tell him that I'm super-grateful that he got me a fare, but to please not ever put those particular assholes in my car again. And since our relationship is built on surreal humor and snark, I start expanding the list. Those assholes. Colombian drug lords. Justin Beiber. Kim Jong-Un. Please, no Korean dictators.

"But what about a penis-shaped potato?"

I'll admit, that one threw me for a loop. But I tell him that potatoes are fine, regardless of shape, size, color, or type.

At that point, I could almost hear him laughing as he typed "Excellent. Instead of a dictator, I'll send you with a dick tater."

I was so pissed off I had walked straight into that one.

When I worked for a design agency, I had two adamant higher-ups. There was a brand identity project for a new company, and I was in charge of typography, but those two disagreed with my choice of font.

The first one was this stony-looking Peruvian-American man named Esteban Ferrero, but since that's Spanish for Steven Smith, and our company had a rule that everyone has to call each other using nicknames instead of last names, everyone, including himself, just called him Steve. The second one was a Dutch woman with a sharp glare named Evelien van der Berg. She was famous for giving designers a hard time convincing her that their design choices work better than hers. In accordance with the company rules, we called her Eve.

Anyway, I showed Steve my first draft, and he wasn't convinced that I chose LinoLetter as the main font, and told me that I should use a sans-serif font. But I stood by my position that serifs add legibility to printed and digital material, that it fits the company's identity as an organic store, and that it is hard to stand out with a sans-serif. It took a lot of debate, but in the end, Steve was convinced that LinoLetter was acceptable.

A few days later, I showed Eve a more elaborated version, as for the sizes and styles of the font, and the pairing of LinoLetter with Century as the headline font. She insisted that I should have used a sans-serif font for the headline. I expressed my view that LinoLetter is a font with composed and legible shape, and Century, while it is also legible, has flair at larger sizes. She kept disagreeing with me, saying I should use something bolder and more contrasting, like Tungsten. It felt like hours had passed before the conversation went anywhere, so I had to give up and look for a sans-serif font that goes with LinoLetter.

So it goes to show that the one who gave me a hard time was adamant Eve, not adamant Steve.

I am a math teacher to high schoolers and we were going over 2d and 3d shapes. I started to draw random pictures of birds using the shapes and ended up with a toucan picture. So I made the bird say "if I can do it, Tu-can too!" which was a double joke because most of the kids speak Spanish and I spelled it as 'tu' which means 'you'. I got so many groans and "wow Mrs. Acinomismonica" so I could tell they thought it was an egg-cellent joke.

Backstory: Many years ago I was living on my own about 45 minutes away from my parents. I had a stable job but didn't make much money and was broke most of the time. I had an old beat up car that was my only form of transportation. I would always have mechanical issues with the car and finally one morning it decided it wouldn't start no matter what.

I sheepishly had to call in to work and explain the situation and let them know that I would have to take a sick day but would figure some way to get to work the next day. I called my dad and he offered to come pick the car up on his trailer and take it back to his garage to work on it and get it in shape to trade it in.

He drives to my apartment, we get the car on the trailer and we are headed back to his house. The whole ride there I'm pretty pissed off and depressed about the whole situation. I'm worried about finding a new car and how I'm going to afford it and what I'm gonna do if I can't get it running again.

Dad senses my mood and pretty much keeps quiet the whole time. We get about three blocks away from his house and he utters this gem.

"Man, this car won't get off my ass. He's been tailgating me for 45 minutes now."

This was the perfect thing to snap me out of my funk and break the tension. I absolutely lost it. Only a Dad Joke could make me realize how trivial the whole thing was. I have told this joke to others who didn't really think it was that funny, but to me at the time it was the greatest thing ever.

Thanks Dad.

So yesterday My father, Little brother, and I were all eating dinner. We were having random sausages that I cooked up.

Dad: Coughs

Me: "You okay?"

Dad: "I'm fine it's just a little hot."

Me: "Yeah, hot links and flaming hot Cheetos will do that to you."

Dad: "And a hot soda."

Me: "Dad that soda isn't anywhere close to being hot."

Dad: Bends can to give it an hourglass shape "There, now its hot."

Me and Little Brother: heavy sighs

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

At a wedding reception where the chocolates on the table were in nice looking package.

• Dad: Don't throw that way; I'll take them home.
• Mom: Great another of one thousand useless items that'll be on a shelf.
• Dad: Aaaaw, Honey -- I'd never put you on the shelf.

While watching a baseball game:

• Mom: Are they "boo'ing?" Nobody "boos" anymore.
• Dad: Hey can I have a blow job?
• Mom: Shut up.
• Dad: Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

In regards to meatloaf my mother made:

• Mom: Sorry the meatloaf isn't that good.
• Dad: It's Ok. But next time try adding some Alpo.

While eating at relatives' house:

• Mom: Wow. This is really good! We used to eat like this all the time growing up.
• Uncle: Really? Where I come from we just call it Hamburger Helper.

In regards to an inappropriately shaped child's toy:

• Me: Did you buy that at one of those special stores you guys got in San Francisco?
• Grandfather: What?! Of course not! God no - that's not mine!
• ...
• Grandfather: It's too small...

When my brother and I were screwing around instead of helping in the garage:

• Dad: You know, twice, twice! I thought I got it out quick enough but some must have dribbled back inside.

After listening to a 3 minute voice mail from my mother:

• Me: What did she want?
• Dad: You want the long or the short version?
• Me: Short.
• Dad: Nothing.
• Me: Ok long version.
• Dad: Nothing much.

So I call up my dad today because my mom isn't answering her cell. When he answers I ask, "hey dad, is mom around?" His reply: "Umm, no, I think she's more sausage-shaped".

My dad and I were out in the yard one day in the fall, a flock of geese fly over.

Dad: You see that flock of geese up there?

Me: Ya

Dad: You ever notice....(pause for effect).... that they fly in that....(long pause)... V-Shape?

Me: Ya

Dad:You ever notice.....(long pause for dramatic effect)... that one line.....(pause while pointing at the flock)..... is almost always longer than the other?

Me:Ya

Dad: (Long pause, he has got me now) Do you know why that is?

Me: No

Dad: (Cracking a smile) Because there are more geese in that line.

I bought my dad a giant novelty oven mitt shaped like Spock's hand. My brother picks it up and says, while quietly laughing to himself:

"live long and pasta"

Mom- "help me find this mirror. It's in the shape of a sun with a mirror in the middle" Me- I picked up a regular hand mirror "I think found it!" Mom- "Really? I've been looking everywhere!" Me- while looking into the mirror "is this the son mirror you were looking for?" Thankfully she thought it was just as funny as I did. I'm just preparing for the future.

Sitting in a lecture I was playing with a piece of paper, crushing to a vague bowl shape, which I subsequently placed on my knee so that it looked kind of like a little hat. My friend leans over and picks it up, but then puts it back, saying, "It fits perfectly."

So I lean back and whisper in his ear,

"That's because it's a knee cap."

I was in the car with my girlfriend and the air conditioning had been running to the point where the car had gotten plenty chilly. I asked if it was okay if I turned it off, which I followed up with:

"After all, the air should be in plenty good shape by now."

My girlfriend groaned as I laughed at my own joke.