Smoking Hot Puns

Cremation.

"Holy smokes it's hot in here" - One muffin says to the other That muffin replies "No way! A talking muffin!"

At least I'm smoking hot, now.

I went inside to pay and saw two policemen in the store. I said "Did you guys see that woman out there?" They looked outside and suddenly darted out the door. I turn and see she caught her arm on fire.

The policemen threw a blanket around her and wrestled her to the ground and put out the fire. Then they gave her a ticket!

After they came inside I asked why they gave her a ticket. Turns out she didn't have a license for that firearm.

I’ll finally have that hot smoking bod I always wanted

It was a smoking hot deal!

Its my last chance to have a smoking hot body, and I don't plan on missing it

Dad just dropped this one:

"Being cremated is my last shot at having a hot, smoking body."

A Christmas Poem
by Dad (1952–2009)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shack,
Not a creature was stirring, we was all in the sack;

Our mugs were placed on the mantle with cheer,
In hope that Saint Nick would bring us a beer;

And me I was tucked up all snug in my bed,
But strains of sweet music still danced through my head;

So I sprang from my bed with a crash and a clatter,
And off down the hall with bare feet did I patter;

There on the chair sat my musical pipe,
So I sat down to play without fanfare or hype;

Come Mozart, come Hayden, Stravinski and Strauss,
And write me some music to bring down the house;

When down from the chimney appeared with a crash,
A strange little man in the smoke and the ash;

He wiggled and jumped and got up like a shot,
Came over and said, "Man those cinders are hot!";

His stomach it shook like a bowl full of jelly,
For a moment I thought it was dear old aunt Nelly;

His nose like a cherry, his ears like two jugs,
I was worried that this guy just might be on drugs;

His language was foul, his jokes they were crass,
So I opened the door and threw him out on his ass;

But then as I turned, boy was I ever surprised;
I saw what he'd bought me, or so I surmised;

For there in the corner right under the tree,
Was some brand new sheet music and a case of O.V.;

I turned to say thank-you but found he had gone,
He was not in the garden and not on the lawn;

And just when I thought that he couldn't get far,
I realized the old goat had stolen the car;

Off in the distance he said with a wheeze,
"I hated to do it but you left me the keys!";

I smiled and laughed for this much I could savour,
For I'd just sold the car to my idiot neighbour;

And once more he called as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and don't drive when you're tight!"

Thank you for everything, Dad. We love and miss you.

It's my only chance at a smoking hot body