Strike Back Puns

My wife sent a picture to the family WhatsApp of him watching Luke duel Vader captioned ‘Learning the art of the light saber!’ to which I responded:

‘By the end of that fight he will probably be twice as handy as Luke…’

...Yoda originally spent part of his exile as a shepherd.

All the sheep, Dagobah.

The scene is playing where Luke is hanging upside down and just managed to defeat the beast on Hoth by cutting off its arm.

Dad: Well you know why they call it a Wampa now.

Me: Why?

Dad: Because it only has one-paw.

Me: Uses Force Groan

Dad: "I never got why they call it Hoth. Shouldn't it be Coldth?"

Me: "... I can't watch movies with you anymore."

I was searching round the highstreet looking everywhere to try and buy a Nook E-Reader. Looked for ages.

After an hour, we give up. My grandad says "Well I guess we searched every Nook and cranny!" with a huge smile on his face.

Uuurghhhg.

So the organizers contacted the elves and started communicating their rights to them.

At first, union outreach seemed to be going well. But then the process ran aground.

The elves delivering the presents had some contact with the outside world, so they understood they were getting a bad deal and wanted to go on strike.

And even the factory elves were sympathetic, because they'd seen their coworkers be punished for getting injured.

But, as one organizer mourned,

"It's the little folks slaving away in the back of the warehouse who don't understand. They're loyal to the big man, because he keeps them so isolated."

All in all, it was a bad case of stock gnome syndrome.

Last night during a pretty aggressive thunderstorm, a huge lightening strike, along with an incredibly deafening thunder clap happened right next to our house. It was about 11pm and Susan was snuggled up to her Mother next to me in our bed. After a few seconds of Lori saying something soothing to our 9 year old she was holding, saying something like 'its ok, its just a little storm, we are safe...', I call out to our older 12 year old in her room just next door.

"Sarah!?" I called to her, in my normal tone to get her attention.

"Yeah? What?" She responded.

"Was that you?" I called back.

After a long pause Sarah replied "No Dad. That was thunder!"

I could not stop laughing.

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

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

So, my sister is having her final tests on high school (I'm in college and have a really cute son with my girlfried) and got home today with a weird look on her eyes. Me and dad were having some sandwiches and watching The Empire Strikes Back (Star Wars marathon hype!). I looked at her and asked what happened, she immediately responded "I'm tired as fuck." By that point, I looked at my dad. He was looking at me, with a sparkle on his eyes. We both stood up, walked to her and said together: "HELLO TIRED AS FUCK, WE ARE DAD" Even my mother started laughing. It was hillarious.

If you go to New York and punch the Empire State Building, then according to Newton's third law of dynamics...

The Empire strikes back

"Did I ever tell you about the asshole?"

"What?"

"Well, the asshole was at a meeting with all of the other body parts, and they were deciding who should be in charge of the whole body, right? So first, the brain says, 'C'mon, obviously I should be the boss. I do all of the decisions, thinking--why is this even a question?'

'Well, good luck doing all of the thinking if you can't see where you're going,' say the eyes. 'We should be in charge.'

'What good is it going to do seeing, if you can't get anywhere?' asked the legs.

'Well, without us, you'd have no oxygen,' said the lungs.

'Are you serious?' said the stomach. 'How are you supposed to process energy and do any of this stuff, without me??'

'Well, what about me?' piped up the asshole. 'I'm important too..'

'You?!?' laughed the other parts. 'Shut up, asshole!'

So the asshole went on strike.

A week and a half later, the brain couldn't think straight. The eyes couldn't focus, the legs were asleep from sitting on the pot, and the stomach was so jammed up full of crap that the lungs could barely breathe.

Finally, they all went to the asshole and said, 'Look, we're sorry, we're sorry!! Just come back to work, you can be in charge!'

...and that's why all bosses are assholes."

Miss ya, Pops.

I have a bunch of stupid baseball questions. I know most of the rules, I just want to make sure I have all my bases covered.

• Imagine there’s a fan of the team that is currently fielding in the stands, and that said fan has a prosthetic arm. The batter hits a pitch and sends it on a home-run trajectory into the stands. If the fan in the stands throws his arm at the ball and diverts it back in the field of play, can they rightfully say that they were just “lending the team a hand” by stopping the home run?

• Consider the exact opposite situation - the fan’s team is at bat and the batter hits a fly ball to the outfield. If Elastagirl from the Incredibles just happened to be the fan in question, can she spring into action and catch the ball before the outfielder has the chance to?

• Now, imagine I smuggled a water gun into the stadium on a particularly hot day, and I managed to squirt sticky black liquid onto the batter. Does that mean he can take a walk since he was “hit by pitch”?

• Consider the freak circumstance where a ball in motion collides with a bird, causing it to spiral in its descent and eventually collide in turn with an umpire. Can the player responsible for the ball’s motion be ejected from the game due to repeatedly flipping the bird at an umpire?

• Can a losing team sub out their man on the mound with a large quantity of beer to prolong the game? There’d still be a pitcher on the mound!

• If a pitcher throws a slider into the strike zone and the batter doesn’t swing, should the umpire consider it a strike, a ball, or the catcher’s dinner?

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

I am well known among my friends as a Pungeon Master, but my brother foolishly decided to challenge me.

We went back and forth for a while, the theme ocean/fish puns. Finally, I busted out the nuclear strike that caused him to literally get up and walk away.

Me: Why are fish all atheists?

Brother: Why?

Me: Cause they're all, "Ick, theology."

Silent, he stood, left the restaurant and drove off. He was my ride T-T

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

Back story: I work as a bartender at a bar that is right after you exit security at International Arrivals at an airport.

Had several customers sitting at the bar, and we were all talking about how Lufthansa pilots are going on strike, and there's been a lot of cancelled plans/major delays in the last few days.

Customer: I don't know what's going on! Must be something in the air.

Me: You mean there's nothing in the air.

Cue entire bar groaning. Got a few good tips out of it.

The other day he wanted to ask me a math question, "Let's say a lightning bolt strikes a mile long metal train at the very back end. How long until it reaches and kills the driver, provided that he is a good conductor?" He sat there with his mouth open and a bad joke eel smile, waiting for me to laugh.

Tom Vanderbilt was this nice guy that loves to umpire the local little league games. He was good enough to make it to the major leagues. His first day umpiring behind the plate the first pitch hits the far bottom corner. Tom calls it a strike. The batter, 6'3" 275 lbs says, "you call that a strike again I'm going to pound you with this bat!" The next pitch hits the far bottom corner again. Tom calls it a ball. The catch, who is bigger than the batter turns around and yells, "you call that a ball again I'm going to pound you with this mask!" The very next pitch hits the very same spot. Tom yells, "two!" Both the batter and catcher yell, "two what?!" Tom says, "too close to call and I'm going back to the little leagues."