Something Real Puns

Only a fraction of people understand that joke.

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

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

And I remember he used to be stationed in exotic places all over the world. Once he came back home with a very exotic looking bird. I asked him what kind of a bird it was and he told me it’s a rare almost extinct species called a Foux (pronounced Foo). This foux was the apple of his eye and he would take care of the bird as if it was his own child. Sometime during this period the Foux began developing a real bad case of constipation and my father was really worried about it. He tried all kinds of medicines to make the Foux pass it’s bowels, but nothing was working. One day, during this period, I woke up to a huge argument taking place between my parents. My mom was accusing him of cheating on her during one of his tours, she had found some pictures of him and another woman and he was denying it vehemently. I realized then that my father had been quite the philanderer and this wasn’t the first time he had been caught. My mom was trying to get him to just admit to his indiscretion.

“Why don’t you just admit it Harry”, she said;

but he stuck to his denial,

“You think I could ever do something like this Sarah”, he said.

Right then amidst all this ruckus, the Foux began to take a dump, in the middle of the living room.

My mom looked at the bird, then looked back at my dad and with a sense of resignation she just said “Well if the Foux shits...”

I think I have something here, just need a little help with the ending. This is what I have so far.

In the interrogation room, Joe Ga pleaded with police to let him go. He explained the man they are really after is Joe Ka, who has been systematically committing crimes and calling out his own name in the process knowing how similar they sound.

"This is all just a setup, the real Joe Ka is..."

That is, at least not long enough to learn any of the many, many important things a frog needs to learn in order to be a frog.

You see, a frog needs to be super slick in order to get by. A frog without proper skills, well, he may as well be a toad.

Anyways, every time Mama Frog went about trying to teach Little Hop something, he would just bounce.. and bounce.. and bounce..

And every time Mama Frog had reached her limit of patience, right before giving up, she’d say to Little Hop, “If you keep on keepin’ on hoppin around all aimless, I’m gonna turn you into a toad!”

Which, upon hearing, Little Hop would stop his hop and settle. You see, he knew well enough that he wanted no part of being a toad.

Well, on one particular day, during one such lesson, Little Hop had taken again to bouncing here, and bouncing there - and just about everywhere besides a place he could listen! And on this same particular day, Mama Frog’s patience was worn real, real, thin, you see, and she got sudden filled with a terrible frustration.

And just like a firecracker went off, in a sudden snap, Mama Frog turned Little Hop straight into a toad!

And when it was done, Mama Frog looked at him direct, shook her head, and said..

“I toad you so.”

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.

Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.

Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!

I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.

What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.

How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.

I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.

Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.

I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.

My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.

Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.

How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.

What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.

Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.

There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.

What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.

What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.

Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.

Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.

How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.

The shovel was a ground breaking invention.

A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."

A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."

Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.

What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.

I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.

What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.

I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.

Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.

Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"

Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.

What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.

Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.

What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.

What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.

A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.

After the accident, the juggler didn

Preface: I live in Ohio.

Over the years my dad and I have taken lots of trips together or vacations to different states. Well whenever he goes to pay for something with cash, thinking he's real clever, he asks the cashier if they accept Ohio money. Every. Single. Time. The cashier instantly gets super confused and kinda just stares awkwardly. Despite how dumb the joke is I honestly do get a chuckle out of how uncomfortable the cashiers get lol.

I was explaining something to a client and a real estate agent when I am interrupted by a Train whistle. I pause waiting for it to end.

I then continue my explanation. Only to get interrupted again for a good 15 seconds.

After it ends.

Me: Long pause.... I'm sorry I've lost my train of thought.

The agent chuckled. But I could hear everyone else rolling their eyes.

I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that's okay, because she'd just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like "your dog can ride in my pickup any time," and she responded.

We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog's name was Daisy. My truck's name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.

And at this, she stumbled. "If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper." But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.

But time went on, and we gradually became closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.

But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: "I never thought I'd say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don't want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I'm telling you, I can never date a beekeeper."

I couldn't imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn't imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.

Then I saw her face. Now I'm a bee leaver.

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

So my girlfriend asked me to help her brush her hair cause she said it was knotty. This is our conversation

GF: Hey can you brush my hair real quick? It's knotty.

ME: Sure but let me slip into something more comfortable.

GF: Why?

ME: Cause it's naughty (also had my best sexy face on)

GF: ... Ugh...

Needless to say she's brushed it herself.

Me and my son were going to a store and he pointed something out. A person in a cloak. He said that they looked shady. I asked if they were fat he said no so then I replied so they’re the real slim shady

She takes the pregnancy test, hunched over the pee pee stick on the toilet.

Her: "Honey...I think I'm pregnant."

Him: "Hi pregnant, I'm Dad!" (Did I really just say that? Out loud? I could've sworn I said I was so happy...weird)

Her: "This isn't a joke...I'm serious." (Did he just make...a dad joke? About being a dad?)

Him: "I thought you said your name was pregnant." (FUCK. What is happening to me?? Gotta say something normal..)

"Uhhhhh...I'm so fucking sorry. Really I couldn't help it, I guess."

Sorry: "At least you finally used my real name."

• What's the difference between mononucleosis and herpes? You get mono from snatching kisses.

• If you were to lose your left arm, you'd be all right.

• Why can't you hear a pteradactyl going to the bathroom? Because the P is silent.

• Communists only write in lower-case letters because they hate capitalism.

• I got a new job at the police sketching pictures of suspects. I'm a con artist.

• Cat Woman's real name is Catherine Woman.

• I have a new cat joke. ...Just kitt'en.

• How do you find Will Smith in the snow? Look for Fresh Prints. *

• Did you hear about the two men who stole a calendar? They got six months each.

• I just saw an Apple store get robbed. Does that make me an iWitness?

• Dwarfs and midgets have very little in common.

• I'm moving to Seoul. I was told it would be a good Korea move.

• Did you hear about the professor who was killed in a car accident? He was grading papers on a curve.

• Why isn't an iPhone charger called Apple Juice?

• Ever try to eat a clock? It's very time consuming.

• When Peter Pan throws punches, they Never Land.

• I was struggling to understand how lightning works, but then it struck me.

• Einstein developed a theory about space. And it was about time, too.

• Apparently Neil Armstrong used to tell unfunny jokes about the moon, and then follow up with, "Ah, I guess you had to be there."

• I'm going to make a TV series about a plane hijacking. We just shot the pilot.

• Would you call a drunk working at an upholstery a recovering alcoholic?

• Yesterday I got covered in ketchup from my head tomatoes.

• Even though I've gone bald, I still keep the same comb I've had for 20 years. I just can't part with it.

• Picture of my sister after getting her nose pierced "She nose something!"

• I went to the dentist and showed him my cavity. He told me to pull up my pants and get the hell out.

• Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? It was okay - he woke up.

• So what if I can't spell armageddon. It's not the end of the world.

• When you get an infection, urine trouble.

• "Hey waiter! This coffee tastes like mud!" "Yes, sir; it's fresh ground."

• How did the butcher introduce his wife? "Meat Patty."

• Elton John is a great piano player, but he sucks on the organ.

• Elton John wrote a tribute to Amy Winehouse: Candle Under the Spoon *

• What's the difference between Amy Winehouse and Captain Morgan? Captain Morgan comes alive when you add coke. *

*My absolut

Me: Shit just got real (we were throwing a ball of paper back and forth, and I he hit me in the face with it) Boss: You want real? I'll show you real! (Boss walks to grab something, returns with a fishing reel) Boss: This is reel!

So I know of this one plant. He's a sentient plant, who feels like he needs to move around more than he does (because plants can't move where they're planted on their own), and decided that he needs feet to do so.

So, the plant got a contractor to build him a laboratory around himself. He worked tirelessly for years in hopes of growing a foot he could use, but to no avail. Or, almost no avail.

He managed to finally create SOMETHING, but it wasn't much. All he could get out of all of his experiments and concoctions was a toe. Not even a real toe, a fake one.

So he has now performed...

FAUX-TOE-SYNTHESIS

(say it out loud)

Darko is my incredibly foreign dad (yes - that's his real name). This subreddit should expect many lame jokes from him.

It was a Saturday morning and I was enjoying my day of sleeping in after a tiring week of school. Darko rushes into my room and shakes me awake with a look of epiphany on his face.

> Me: "Ughh, what is it, dad?"

> Darko: "I was making breakfast when I realized something... If tomatoes are considered fruit... then shouldn't ketchup be called a smoothie?"

...was the joke really worth waking me up, dad. Was it.

Edit: Formatting

My friends and I have started to have weekly dinners and we rotate who hosts. We are all single and live alone so we wanted to do something to encourage us to cook a real meal on a regular basis. We need a good name to refer to it and I love puns - so I have come to you Reddit. If it helps, our dinners are Wednesdays. Many thanks!

He’s always been hilarious, in a non-dad-joke way, just naturally cracks people up. But he has had some decent dad jokes since he became a father and my personal favorite is this.

He is a little short, so he was using a step-stool to grab something.

Me: Bro you really need a step-stool?

Him: Yeah, my real stool left me when I was five.

I just stood there, taken aback by the fact he just made a dad joke. It was actually pretty friggin’ funny.

Back in the late 80's, my dad had a joke he loved to tell everyone he met. It went something like this:

I was driving down the road and ended up behind this ambulance with its rear door open. I tried honking and flashing my lights to get their attention about it, but they didn't seem to notice. As they turned the corner away from us, a small cooler fell out. I pulled over to rescue the cooler, and when I opened it, I found a human toe, on ice.

At this point, the victim of the joke is supposed to ask what he did with the toe. He responds with "I called the Tow Truck!" and hearty laughter.

Being the 1980's, e-mail wasn't prevalent, and calling long distance could get expensive, so he communicated with his out of state family primarily through mailed letters. He wrote this joke (sans punchline) in a letter to his mom. Not knowing it was a joke, she told the story to her friends and family. My aunt heard this story, and told it to her classes (she's a teacher) and one of her students actually got in a fight with his mom who said that could never happen.

A month or two later, we were getting together for a holiday and the toe story came up in conversation. My dad replied that he called the tow truck, and his laughter was met with horrified stares. By this time, nearly everyone in the small town was enthralled with this amazing story that my grandma had told about her son who lived in the city. She was imagining all of the people she had to contact to tell the real story to. Many took it in stride, but others were quite annoyed. Especially my aunt, who had to apologize to every one of her classes at school.

TLDR: A dad joke with no punch line doesn't belong in a letter.

For as long as I can remember, my dad would go into the bathroom and drop a real stinky shit, then wait outside the bathroom until my mom wanders by at which time he would say something along the lines of "Goddamn Carol! Light a match in there next time! What crawled up your ass and died?!". My mom always would look mortified and defend herself as if she actually did it. Even after countless years of seeing him pull the same routine over and over again it's still hilarious.

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

"Philogelos" or "The Laughter Lover" is a collection of 265 ancient Roman jokes, written in the 4th century AD. Some of them feel... very appropriate for this sub:

• A boy caught sight of a deep well on his country-estate, and asked if the water was any good. The farmhands assured him that it was good, and that his own parents used to drink from that well. The boy expressed his amazement: "How long were their necks, if they could drink from something so deep!"

• When a boy was told by someone, "Your beard is now coming in," he went to the rear-entrance and waited for it.

• A boy checked in on the parents of a dead classmate. The father was wailing: "O son, you have left me a cripple!" The mother was crying: "O son, you have taken the light from my eyes!" Later, the boy suggested to his friends: "Well, if he were guilty of all that, he probably deserved to die!"

• A boy came to check in on a friend who was seriously ill. When the man's wife said that he had 'departed', the intellectual replied: "When he arrives back, will you tell him that I stopped by?"

• A boy had been at a wedding-reception. As he was leaving, he said: "What a wonderful ceremony! I pray that your next marriages are as enjoyable as this one."

• A man met his friend in the street, who said: "Congratulations! I hear that you've got a new baby boy!" The man replied: "Indeed, but I'm still trying to find the father!"

• A man saw a eunuch talking with a woman and asked him if she was his wife. When he replied that eunuchs can't have wives, the man asked: "So is she your daughter?"

• A man was being heckled by a friend: "I had your wife, without paying a dime!" The man replied: "It's my duty as a husband to couple with such a monstrosity. What made you do it?'

• An incompetent schoolteacher was asked who the mother of Priam was. Not knowing the answer, he said: "Well, I suppose it's polite to call her Ma'am."

• A man, just back from a trip abroad, went to an incompetent fortune-teller. He asked about his family, and the fortune-teller replied: "Everyone is fine, especially your father." When the man objected that his father had been dead for ten years, the reply came: "Ah, then you must have no clue who your real father is!"

• A misogynist paid his last respects at the tomb of his dead wife. When someone asked him, "Who has gone to rest?," he replied: "Me, at last!"

You can find more here and [here](http://publishing.y

Every once in a while, when my dad couldn't explain something, he'd say "Oh, it's because of the geese". This obviously made no fucking sense. So one day I asked him what it meant. This is his response:

"Well, have you ever seen geese fly in a big pack? They fly in a V-formation, right? But one side of the V is always longer than the other. Why is that? Simple, there's more geese on that side. There's no real explanation for it, it's just because of the geese".

Damn it, Dad....

At 7:30am

ME - Hey Boss, let me run something by you real quick...

Boss - Chuck, can you just walk it by me? Its still early...

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.

Was in the car with my girlfriend and her mom, the mom was driving.

GF: Hey mom turn right at Shoshone street real quick?

GF mom: why?

Me: she wants to shoshow you something

This was followed by their sighs as I laughed in the back seat. I know its not that great but I am so proud of it and it was totally worth it.

Needless to say, I am single.

I´m not really sure if this fits here, but it´s a hilarious story.

A Year ago my Father, mother, brother and me were driving to lunch(or breakfast), when we came to an intersection. This intersection has seen alot of accidents over the years, because people don´t give a fuck and just turn in. Long story short: A guy almost crashes his van into our car. It all went really fast. My dad shouted, hit the brakes and with a screeching sound we halted. The van just drove on and was before us. My dad muttered something like: "That´s it!" and overtook the van. He stopped infron of said van and got out.(Sidenote: We are all tall in my family. my little brother is a little over 2 meters and is really buff. I´m just 2 meters tall and my dad is a little smaller than me. My mum is the smallest of the bunch with just 1,86 or so) So my dad gets out of the car and starts shouting at the guy in the van. My father is a real pacifist and hates violence of any form, so we all were really shocked. I look over to my brother and say:"We gotta hold him back he´s gonna rip that guys head off!". So we both got out and the guy starts trembling behind his steering wheel, when suddenly a giant stands infront of his car shouting and hitting and kicking the air, while 2 larger giants hold him back (barely though) and try to sooth him. My mother gets out goes over to the guys windows points him to let it down and say:"You´re lucky my sons are with us, otherwise we wouldn´t be having this conversation." She goes back to my father tells him to cool down and we all get back in the car. The guy in the van looks frozen at us and doesnt move a muscle. Remeber we are still on the street holding up the entire intersection, so cars start honking. It´s then i hear my dad laughing and saying:" You didn´t think i was gonna do anything did ya?" We didn´t spoke to him for the rest of the ride, but later at lunch(or breakfast) we all laughed about it.

TL;DR: 3 Giants teach a man not to speed.

The bus ride to the station had been very stressful. I spent the entire time worrying if the bus even stopped at the train station. I ended up spending nearly an hour making two loops around the city before I finally realized that I had to hop off near the station. Public transport. Jesus.

I'd missed the train I wanted to catch due to my hour-long bus ride, so I had some time to kill before the next one arrived. It had been cold and raining when I left in the morning, but by lunch time it was warm and I was sweating, standing on the station in a big yellow hoodie and jeans.

I had overslept and skipped breakfast earlier, so I resolved not to let the loud farts coming from the old man next to me kill my appetite. I was desperate for a snack.

Initially the vending machine told me it would accept "EXACT CHANGE ONLY". Slightly annoying, but no real problem: I just fished out my change, inserted some alternative coins and punched in the number. I watched the object of my desire inch forwards, ready to drop into the bottom where I could collect it. For some reason I was terrified that it might get stuck. Robbed by a robot, how embarrassing. Luckily the packet fell into the tray. Finally something was going my way.

As I reached into the bottom of the machine and pushed open the metal door, it suddenly stuck. It was wedged in place and the gap was too small for my snack to fit through. "Motherfucker..." I whispered under my breath.

But I was too invested to give up now. Determined not to be beaten by a bloody machine, I pulled hard and the packet burst, spilling chips into the tray. I managed to salvage about half of the crisps and ate them greedily. Partially crushed, but still deliciously cheesy.

At this point it occurred to me that perhaps I should tell the station operator that the vending machine was broken. I walked up to the ticket office and saw a bored, tired looking man in his forties. "I just thought I'd let you know the vending machine is jammed," I announced.

The attendant got up, walked over over to the vending machine and gave it a solid kick, dislodging the little metal door which had foiled me. When he turned to me again his expression had changed from boredom to amusement. "So what flavour was it then? Strawberry?"

I groaned, but couldn't resist a smile.

I knew it was going to be a good day.

Dad: "Hey Son, real quick I gotta go to work but I wanted to tell you something first" Me: "yeah sure what?" Dad: "I refuse to believe, that my hard working father who has been a road worker for 50 years is stealing from the job, but when I got home, all the signs were there!" click