Stepping Down Puns

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Step 28

Step 27

Step 24

Step 21

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Step 12

Step 7

Step 3

Step 1

I'm not sure why he was stairing.

....he was an Austr-alien

So young and already making great strides in life.

That escalated quickly.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Now no one can get down.

It’s elevator music

I said "No, son. I'm half left."

The debate was Ruthless.

They are always up to something.

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

So the Swiss made a watch called a Swiss watch also known as Swatch for short. Then Croatia made a watch and I thought it was trendy so I got one. Now whenever someone asks me for the time I say 'hold on, let me check my Crotch' and I get really strange looks."

A woman is at her husband’s funeral, and asks some friends of her late husband up to the podium to say some things honouring him.

Man 1 walks up to the podium, and says one word: “Plethora.” He steps down and walks by the widow, who says: “Thanks; that means a lot.”

Man 2 now goes up to the podium, and says “Bargain.” Then, as he leaves the podium and walks by the widow, she whispers to him: “Thanks; that means a great deal.”

If he got it right, there would have been a lot of potential difference.

By the time I hit bottom I had written 10 5FDP songs.

So when I was younger, me and a couple of friends went on a little trip to the beach. We had a lot of fun there swimming around, making a campfire, all that jazz. Some of us wanted to build sandcastles and get em as high as we could so we could pretend we were knights protecting them.

So some kids started running around being annoying and destroying the sand castles and it got to the point where one of my friends got so protective of his castle, he started punching anyone who even got close. You know how kids are, the other ones got closer and were like “we arent even touching it, calm down!” but he wasnt having any of that so he drew a line in the sand and said “if you step over this line, i WILL punch you..”

that was the punch line >insert finger guns<

SM: “I bought some shaved Parmesan and manchego”

D: “oh good that hairy Parmesan was no good last time”

I told him I'd prefer the latter, but he brought me the ladder.

This joke sucks

It wasn't the kind of stairdown I had in mind.

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

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

After a couple hours, the guard on duty steps away to use the bathroom.

The one prisoner says: "Quick, this is our chance to escape. We only have a few minutes so have to work together. You rip bedsheets into strips and I'll tie them into a rope, then we can climb down through the window.

The other agrees, "Got it. I sheet, you knot."

My Step dad told me this one about 25 years ago (I was around 12?) and I've loved it, and dad jokes, ever since.....

A guy named Benny was walking down the beach when he found a magic lamp.

When he rubbed the lamp, a genie came out and said he got three wishes. However, he must agree to never shave again. If he did, he would become an urn.

Benny wished for riches, women and a VERY long life.

Years upon years had passed; and Benny's beard was so long it was difficult to manage. He decided that surely the genie who had granted his wishes so long ago had forgotten about him, and so he shaved his beard off.

POOF!!

He was an urn.

What's the moral of the story?

A Benny shaved is a Benny urned.

Dad, did you get a haircut? No I got them all cut.

What do you call a Mexican who has lost his car? Carlos.

Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don’t think they’ll fit me.

Can I watch the TV? Dad: Yes, but don’t turn it on.

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

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.

You know, people say they pick their nose, but I feel like I was just born with mine.

“Every time I hurt myself, even to this day, my dad says, ‘The good news is..it’ll feel better when it quits hurting.'”

What’s brown and sticky? A stick.

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

Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon? Great food, no atmosphere.

“I’ll call you later!”- “Please don’t do that. I’ve always asked you to call me Dad!”

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

What did the mountain climber name his son? Cliff.

This graveyard looks overcrowded. People must be dying to get in there.

“My dad literally told me this one last week: ‘Did you hear about the guy who invented Lifesavers? They say he made a mint.’”

“Whenever the cashier at the grocery store asks my dad if he would like the milk in a bag he replies, ‘No, just leave it in the carton!’”

I got so angry the other day when I couldn’t find my stress ball.

If I had a dime for every book I’ve ever read, I’d say: “Wow, that’s coincidental.”

I’m not indecisive. Unless you want me to be.

How many apples grow on a tree? All of them.

How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.

“Me: ‘Dad, make me a sandwich!’ Dad: ‘Poof, You’re a sandwich!’”

“I heard there was a new store called Moderation. They have everything there

A steak pun is a rare medium well done.

“How can you tell if a ant is a boy or a girl? They’re all girls, otherwise they’d be uncles.”

Milk is also the fastest liquid on earth – its pasteurized before you even see it

“What’s Forrest Gump’s password? 1forrest1”

The only thing worse than having diarrhea is having to spell it.

I asked my friend to help me with a math problem. He said: “Don’t worry; this is a piece of cake.” I said: “No, it’s a math problem.”

I keep trying to lose weight, but it keeps finding me.

I don’t play soccer because I enjoy the sport. I’m just doing it for kicks.

Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head.

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

Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?

After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.

Many years passed by like that.

At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.

With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:

• Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.

A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:

• Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:

• Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:

• Thank you

A director and a costume designer had a disagreement over a critical shot in the horror movie they were filming in their studio.

The director planned to use CGl for a brief but critical reveal-shot of the movie's monster. But the costume designer insisted they use an actual costume instead of CGl.

"CGl makes a movie look cheap these days," she proclaimed.

The two of them continued debating until they began arguing. The stage crew, actors on break, and other people around them began watching until both the costume designer and director were shouting over each other at the top of their lungs. Despite their efforts, nobody could calm them down.

Fearing the incident may lead to blows, one of cameramen called a studio security guard in urgent request. The guard arrived a minute later and made a beeline for the director and costume designer, who were being held back by multiple people on set.

"lt's my movie. l make the decisions!" the director hollered, hoarse and red in the eyes.

"The movie quality will suffer!" the costume designer screamed, hair plastered across her sweaty face.

The security guard stepped in-between them and raised his pistol at the ceiling without a word. They continued to argue around him. There was a bark of gunshot, then nothing but silence and some falling plaster.

"Now see here," the guard said loudly, stepping back to look at the two of them. "Either you two quit your bickering or l'll have to escort you off the premises. You're making a scene."

He refused to step down!

It’s really a step down from summer

We're a fairly advanced society, we need jokes with content that makes us think. All these easy laughs are making us dumber by the second, and we just keep rewarding them with upvotes that convince the lazy among us to keep churning out lazy jokes. Comedy is one of the only common traits things in every society and culture on this planet and we may not always agree with what is funny, it's very subjective, but no society or culture has no comedy. It's one of the most effective unifiers in all human existence. Of course it's just my two cents, but we really need to avoid cheapening it. There are 6500 spoken languages in the world and this is the most widely spoken, the least spoken languages of course being sign language. Someone once said "a world without laughter would be like a world without warmth, a dark hole in the ground filled with cold water." I know they mean well, but I think it's worse than that. There are three unwritten rules for how comedy should function in the world. We have to learn to follow them or we're doomed as a people, forever, however just like there are two butts in the word "assassin", there are two caveats to this dire situation with lessons learned from the best there is. One is the lesson we can take from Switzerland, I'm not entirely sure what makes them so good at integrating comedy into their lives, but their flag is a huge plus. The other is the lesson we can learn from farmers who know how to put what's important first, how to put in the effort into growing something, and they are always outstanding in their field. We get too caught up in standard modalities of thinking and none of us are totally all right, in fact most of us are at least close to half left. In closing, the absence of comedy when you really think about it, is fear. Fear of the ups and downs of life, much like a fear of elevators. And just like a fear of elevators, we all must take steps to avoid it. Thank you for your time.

Disappointed

Sitting in the living room talking about the appeal of nascar with the family when my step mother said she liked the drag races more. Without missing a beat I popped off with: I've never understood the appeal of watching grown men in high heels running down the street.

It was the best part of my day to watch everyone in the room pause, turn slowly toward me and groan loudly

However, the mole couldn't reach them from the high trees and he struggled to climb them. Luckily, there was a tall giraffe who offered to help and got the oranges down for the mole.

The mole would go up to the giraffe every morning and ask him for some oranges. The giraffe would happily oblige but little by little he would get more irritated. One day, the giraffe finally got mad and told the mole to see the badger who could make a tool to help him get the oranges down from the tree.

The mole trundled over to the badger and asked him to make him a tool to help with the orange problem. The badger happily agreed to help and went into his shed. For a few days after: cutting, grinding and sawing could be heard coming from his shed when he finally emerged with a 4-pointed tool. He then proceeded to demonstrate the 4-point tool by sticking it into an orange and allowing the juice from which to drain down the arm of the tool.

The mole was extremely happy and excited by his new magnificent 4-point tool and showed everyone it's amazing capabilities. After a while, however, he realised he had shown it to pretty much everyone. Then he remembered the black cat resting under the oak tree. So he walked over to the tree and tried to show the black cat the 4-point tool. The cat said he couldn't see it properly and asked the mole to come closer. The mole took a few steps forward. Again, the black cat requested the mole to come closer and the mole cautiously stepped closer. Finally the black cat lunged forward and ate the 4-point tool.

The mole couldn't believe it and exclaimed, "Why did you do that?"

To which the black cat replied, "Oh haven't you heard? I am a 4-point tool eater Jaguar!"

He orders nothing, and instead just sits down at the bar and begins reading a newspaper.

“What’ll it be?” Asked the bartender.

“Nothing.” Replied the communist, his face concealed behind the newspaper.

“You don’t want anything?” Said the bartender.

“No!” Replied the communist.

“Look,” said the bartender “you can’t just sit at the bar and read without ordering anything. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Do you know who I am?” Asked the communist, as he slowly lowered the newspaper, revealing combed back black and grey hair, a large, bushy mustache, and a neatly kept Officer uniform with two gold stars pinned to the left breast.

The bartender stepped back, shocked. “Well now you’re just Stalin!”

who claims he can heal anyone with magical crystals. He announces to a crowd, “anyone who needs something healed, step right up and I can heal you with my powers!” Someone steps up, on crutches. “Hi, I’m Phil, can you fix my leg?” He asks. “Yes! Of course! Phil, step behind the curtain!” Answers the crystal guy. Then, another man steps up. “You seem fine! What’s the problem?” The crystal guy asks. “I h-h-have ha-had this st-stutter since I wa-was five.” He said. “Ok, I can fix you right up!” The crystal guy says, motioning the guy with the stutter behind the curtain. Then, he says some sort of chant, moving crystals around. Once he is done he shouts, “Phil, throw a crutch over to prove you’re healed!” A crutch goes flying over the curtain. The crowd gasps. “Now, sir, with the stutter, say something!” He shouts, showing off it worked. “U-uh Ph-Phil fe-ell d-down.”

You could say it’s a step down.

There isn’t another soul on the street.

Suddenly, from out of the gloom, comes an ominous bump...bump…bump.

He looks behind him and spots a furtive, shadowy thing coming down the street after him.

Unnerved, he picks up his pace, finally breaking into a panicked run.

He looks behind him again, and the shadow is closer.

Bump…bump…bump.

The glow of a streetlight illuminates the shadow momentarily, and, to the man’s horror, it is a coffin, bumping down the sidewalk.

He quickens his pace, running as fast as he can go, but the coffin only pursues more quickly.

BUMP…BUMP…BUMP!

He reaches his house, fumbles frantically for his keys, and slips in the door just as the coffin reaches his front steps.

He slams the door and leans against it, catching his breath.

Bump…bump…bump.

There is a moment’s silence, and the man wonders if he dares to breathe.

Suddenly…. Bump…bump…bump…Bump…

BUMP! BUMP!

BUMPBUMPBUMPCRAAAAASH!!!!

He rebounds away as the door breaks off its hinges.

Scrambling to his feet, he charges up the stairs, and the coffin races after.

BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP!

Terrified, he backs into a corner and starts throwing everything within reach at the coffin — a handful of papers, a vase, a box of crackers, a lamp — but the coffin keeps coming!

BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP BUMP INCHESFROMHISFACE, and nothing seems to slow it down!

His hands fall upon a bottle of cough syrup, and he throws that at the coffin, too!

The coffin stops.

In our apartment complex they are remodeling the stairway. They have been trying to put up this dry wall but keep taking it down due to the poor cuts. However, one day I came home to discover the wall successfully installed! Texted my GF and the following happened. Me: "Hey they finally finished the stairs." Her: "I guess they are really stepping up their game."

I am so proud of her. She will make a great dad.

Step 1:

Step 2:

Step 4:

Step 7:

Step 12:

Step 18:

Step 25:

Hospital

Step 1:

Step 2:

Step 4:

Step 7:

Step 12:

Step 18:

Step 25:

Hospital

Step 1. Step2. Step 3. Step 4. Step 5. Step 6. ...

They're always up to something.

He didn't believe me, so I told him to kneel down while I stood on top of him.

"See!" I said

"Um... Sorry, but I'm still your dad", he replied

"Yeah, but now you're my step dad"