Steady Puns

It’s soda pressing

Because it keeps getting fired

He could never get a steady job.

WORKING ON A JOB

My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned I just couldn’t concentrate. . Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the axe. . After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn’t suited for it. The job was only so-so anyhow. . Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was exhausting. . I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn’t cut it. . I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard. . My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn’t note worthy. . I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn’t have any patience. . Next was a job in a shoe factory; but it just wasn’t the right fit. . I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn’t live on my net income. . I thought about becoming a witch, so I tried that for a spell. . I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining. . After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian, until I realized there was no future in it. . My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit, because it was always the same old grind.

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

..He could never pin down a steady job.

Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.

So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.

He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.

As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.

She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.

This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.

When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.

This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.

The two couldn't be happier!

They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.

One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.

She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.

She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.

A shallot, if you will.

A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.

They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.

The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.

Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.

Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.

He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.

One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.

The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.

She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to

Teddy bear race:Ready Teddy Go!

Goat Race:Ready Steady Goat!

Plant race:Ready Steady Grow!

Reading a newspaper, casually turn to my little sister and ask "can you help me with a crossword puzzle? The clue is Postman's bag"

Her: "how many letters?"

Me: "LOADS OF THEM!"

The bartender says "Wow in all my years I've never seen a weasel walk into my bar! What can I get you?"

"Pop" goes the weasel.

My sister teaches at a high school for children with learning and behavior disorders, and every year she hosts a skills summer camp.

2015 will be geology-themed, and we need help thinking of a fun name for the camp.

Previous years: 2014 Summer Scenarios: Little Egypt (Egyptian themed) 2013 Summer Scenarios (first year had no kitchy name, but it was zombie-themed)

Potential examples: Stone Throne, Rock Steady, Taken for Granite, etc.

During the live-in camp (boarding school), they'll learn survival/outdoorsmanship skills (fire starting, gardening, canoeing, etc.), and have geologists as guest speakers.

Any high school learning-friendly geology-themed blockbusters would be welcome suggestions, too--but I'll post that for the people over at /r/movies.

Thanks in advance!

Edit: Thanks to everyone who actually gave appropriate suggestions, and high-fives to those who just made rock puns. My sister selected Game of Stones.

The other day, I was researching the stock market because I thought it wise to start investing at an early age. After hours of research and going through the myriad shares I could buy, I passed by one that caught my eye...the Teucrium Corn Fund. I could invest in corn, that'll surely stay steady, everyone needs corn! However, after awhile of second guessing myself, as I often do, I decided that I hold off on the stock market until I did more research and study. Yes, I'll invest in corn stocks when I have an ear for it.

I have written this book to sweep away all misunderstandings about the crafty art of punnery and to convince you that the pun is well worth celebrating.... After all, the pun is mightier than the sword, and these days you are much more likely to run into a pun than into a sword. [A pun is a witticism involving the playful use of a word in different senses, or of words which differ in meaning but sound alike.]

Scoffing at puns seems to be a conditioned reflex, and through the centuries a steady barrage of libel and slander has been aimed at the practice of punning. Nearly three hundred years ago John Dennis sneered, “A pun is the lowest form of wit,” a charge that has been butted and rebutted by a mighty line of pundits and punheads.

Henry Erskine, for example, has protested that if a pun is the lowest form of wit, “It is, therefore, the foundation of all wit.” Oscar Levant has added a tag line: “A pun is the lowest form of humor—when you don’t think of it first.” John Crosbie and Bob Davies have responded to Dennis with hot, cross puns: “...If someone complains that punning is the lowest form of humor you can tell them that poetry is verse.”

Samuel Johnson, the eighteenth century self-appointed custodian of the English language, once thundered, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the national till without remorse... ”

Joseph Addison pronounced that the seeds of punning are in the minds of all men, and tho’ they may be subdued by reason, reflection, and good sense, they will be very apt to shoot up in the greatest genius, that which is not broken and cultivated by the rules of art.

Far from being invertebrate, the inveterate punster is a brave entertainer. He or she loves to create a three-ring circus of words: words clowning, words teetering on tightropes, words swinging from tent tops, words thrusting their head into the mouths of lions. Punnery can be highly entertaining, but it is always a risky business. The humor can fall on its face, it can lose its balance and plunge into the sawdust, or it can be decapitated by the snapping shut of jaws. While circus performers often receive laughter or applause for their efforts, punsters often draw an obligatory groan for theirs. But the fact that most people groan at, rather than laugh at, puns doesn’t mean that the punnery isn’t fu

I've seen a steady increase of non-dadjoke puns in this sub over the last few months. It seems that people equate dadjokes with puns, which is not correct. Go to /r/puns for that. This comment by /u/skeptickal is a great explanation of the origins of dad jokes.

I do realize that it's hard or impossible to create a written rule of what is and what isn't a dadjoke, but whoever's moderating this subreddit should know.