Spoked Puns

If it was possible to be a protector of the spoke pun, i would be the worden

After my first term ended I decided to move back to my home town. A few weeks later I saw a news article, a zoo had been broken into and all the animals had escaped, noticing the zoo was right near my old house I decided to call my old flat mate and ask if he was okay. When he answered he seemed terrified, but no matter how many times I asked he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. In the end I got frustrated and hung up.

I later discovered he was seriously injuried in a vicious animal attack right after that phone call and I felt terrible for hanging up the phone, but I tried my best, he wouldn't tell me why he was scared he just kept telling me "bear-with-me, bear-with-me" and a man can only wait so long

The lumberjack said, "a talking a tree? Huh. I guess you'll die a log."

It was raisin awareness.

My parents were really confused so I had to back pedal to explain

So I took it out and it turns out, they want to be a web designer

He found his way to the men's department where a young lady offered to help him. "Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl. "No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl. "No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.

"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl. "No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.

"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed. "No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience. "No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.

As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "¡Eso sí que es!"

"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.

A spokes man

We were talking up a storm!

Damn. I picked up bleu cheese.

"I'm looking for an inexpensive pet and I heard your birds are going cheep"

handle bars

One cold winter's morning he was walking along a country road, when he heard a cry for help from a nearby lake.

He turned to see a little girl struggling in the broken ice in the middle of the lake. She'd been skating and had fallen into the icy water. Without a moment's hesitation the tramp ran onto the ice and slipped and slided over to the little girl. He managed to pull her out without breaking the ice further and he carried her back to the road.

He took off his coat and wrapped the little girl in it and began looking for a car to flag down. A few moments later a huge chauffeur-driven limo pulled up, and who stepped out but the little girl's father - the mayor of the nearby town and a multi-millionaire.

"How can I ever thank you sir?" says the father after putting his daughterinto the warmth of the limo.

"Just name your price - I'm a wealthy man."

"Ahem, well ..." stammered the tramp "...eh I'm a little short of cash, perhaps you could help me out"

"Certainly" says the girl's father and he pulls out his wallet.

"Oh dear" says the father, "I don't carry much cash with me, I only have ten dollars - but come home with me and I'll get more from the safe"

"No! No!" says the tramp, "Why ten dollars is more money than I've seen in my whole life - that will be plenty".

"Well, if you insist" says the father - "now what will you do with your money?"

"Oh that's easy" says the tramp "I've not had a rest in 20 years. I think I'll buy myself a holiday"

"Well good luck" says the father, and he gets into the car and signals his chauffeur to drive home.

"Ten Dollars" thinks the tramp, "I'm rich! I'm rich!", and off he goes to the town, to buy himself a holiday.

He finds a travel agent, walks in - much to the disgust of the staff - and goes up to the desk.

"I'll have one holiday please!"

"Ahem, which holiday would sir like" asked the girl at the desk, forcing a smile.

"Oh, any holiday I don't mind" replied the tramp.

"Well how much money does sir have to spend on sir's holiday?"

"Oh lots - anything up to ten dollars"

"TEN DOLLARS!! You'll never get a holiday for ten dollars" says the girl incredulously.

"Oh dear" said the tramp, "and I was so looking forward to a holiday - I'll probably never get another chance - isn't there anything you can do?"

"Well I don't think so sir, but hold on and I'll check"

The girl goes into the back of the shop, and searches in the deepest, dustiest filing drawers she can find. There - to her amazement -

I spoke with Ra emotion

Rather worried, Noah said “But my Lord, have the people not been good this time? Must there be another flood?”

“No, there will not be a flood, the people have been good.” Said the Lord.

“Then why another ark?” Asked Noah.

“I wish for this ark to only house fish.” The Lord replied.

A slightly confused Noah responded “Okay... I shall do as you wish my Lord.”

“But not just any fish; only carp.” The Lord said unto him.

Noah, now more bemused, replied “Uh- okay my Lord.”

“One more thing.” The Lord said unto him “it needs to have multiple levels.”

“Are you sure my Lord? What is the purpose of this? What on earth is it all for?” Noah pressed.

And God said: “I want you to build a multi-story carp-ark.”

Passed from my father unto me, to pass onto my son when he becomes a father.

So I spent the next 10 years telling everybody that my family spoke Gibberish and English and always wondering why they would laugh after I said that

if he'd lettuce

They were told by their hotel concierge that he always spoke the truth and could tell them their future, so, filled with curiousity, they went to see him. As they approached the hut, they noticed a terrible smell coming from inside but they pressed on.

The old man was sitting in a chair, with casts on both legs. "What do you want from me?" the prophet called out. The couple then realized the source of the foul smell... It was the old seers breath! "He must never brush his teeth," they both thought.

Undaunted, they replied, "oh wise prophet, we are newly married and were told that you could read our future!"

The prophet answered, "Oh yes. Just like my hands are rough and hard from my many years living on the land, and my legs are so weak that they've broken just by stepping into my hut, so shall your lives together be! Rough, hard, weak, and broken! Now be gone!"

With that, they returned to their hotel. The concierge asked them how their visit with the prophet was. They told him they were pretty dissapointed and felt like he wasn't all he was cracked up to be. The wife especially was unimpressed. "He was uncaring, weatherbeaten, weak, and his breath stunk too!!!"

The concierge answered...

"Well, I guess thats what you get from the SuperCallousedFragileMysticVexedWithHalitosis!"

We just clicked

Didn’t want to interrupt.

I guess to me he was more of a “Mime’s Man”.

As a spokes-man

She had nice "thy"s.

He says, no obligation

It was a real slap in the faith.

It was legendairy.

My girlfriend says this joke is way too nerdy for Facebook, so I hope you kind people will accept me for who I am.

I guess the secret to a good meal is pairing food and wine that compliment each other!

I had never met herbivore.

I replied, "More like he'll be trippin' the way I see it."

Coz it's a vegetable.

Works better in Spanish. The language he spoke.

¿Por qué las patatas no pueden disparar ballestas? porque son verduras.

They'd traded jokes, played pop music, and generally made people's lives a touch brighter as they trundled to work.

Now, though, there was silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax message from the Department of Defense. As licensed broadcasters they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them the nukes were flying and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. What, though, was the point of that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?

Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio door the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.

Bert, always the consummate professional, turned away from the window as the first explosion split the distant horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt, and brushed his hair back. He would meet his fiery death with dignity.

He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"

Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He looked into Bert's face and saw the closeness they shared, the strength of their relationship, forged over the years. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly:

"With your eyes, Bert."

I replied, “yeah, I’m trylingual.”

...nice guy though. Turns out his name was Bob Loblaw.

Apparently his country was divided on the subject.

So, we're going to a Fulham football match, my Dad is meeting me outside the ground but he's running late. I spoke to my Mum asking where he is and she says he's not far away but in a bad mood because he's got a cold, he left later than intended and the traffic was awful!

He arrives and we walk in about 10 mins late and as we walk through the turnstiles, Fulham score and we hear a massive cheer from the stands, we're below the stands at this moment and can't see.

We take our seats and a couple of minutes later I look over at my Dad's phone. My Mum has texted my Dad asking if he's arrived at the ground ok and his text that he'd written out was "Yes, everyone cheered when we walked in!".

Bloody love that man.

...until I learned Morse code.

because it's two-tired to stand on it's own

... but he spoke with a bit too much conviction.

He said "I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know..."

We just clicked.

He found his way to the menswear department where a young lady offered to help him.

"Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.

"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl.

"No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.

"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed.

"No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience.

"No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.

As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "Eso sí que es!"

"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.

Bert and Ernie worked together as daytime radio hosts for over twenty years. They'd traded jokes, played pop music and generally made peoples lives a touch brighter as they trundled to their workplace.

Now though, there was a silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax from civil defense. As licensed broadcasters, they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them that several nuclear missile launches had occured, and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. But what was the point in that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?

Ernie looked up at Bert. Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune, while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio coor, the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.

Bert. always the consummate professional, turned away as the first explosion split the horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt and brushed his hair back. He would meat his fiery death with dignity.

He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"

Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He hugged his companion, released him and studied Bert's face. He saw the closeness they shared, all the long years tying them together, and the strength of their relationship. He took a deep breath, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He spoke in a quiet, broken tone:

"With your eyes, Bert."