The 'in' Crowd Puns

Because there were so many mummies.

They really need a hair traffic controller.

He's a FaceBookie.

They feared he may have bitten off more than he could chew

I said, "you ain't seen Nothing yet!"

“Make queso, number one.”

Yesterday was Opening Day (baseball) at Target Field (Minnesota). The first 10,000 or so fans received a free blue zip-up hoodie with "Twins" emblazoned on the front. It's a damn fine hoodie.

It's also packed on the stadium concourse. 40,123 attendees that day. As my husband and I are making our way through a dense crowd along the right field concourse, an older gentleman stops me in my tracks with this big grin and says, "Wow, that's a great sweatshirt! Where'd you get it?"

He was holding one in his hand.

His other hand was holding that of his wife, who was rolling her eyes pretty hard. I imagine that was neither the first nor last time he'd made that joke yesterday.

“Sighs doesn’t matter, guys!”

Person 1: What is your opinion on that one classic pulling the bunny out of the hat trick?

Person 2: I think raises some hare-raising questions.

P1: How so?

P2: It just begs the question of how it affects the rabbits themselves. After all, the magicians were pulling them out without a carrot the world.

P1: You raise at interesting point.

P2: We all know it's because of the secret compartment, you know? And, to minimize the suspiciousness of the hat, the compartment is as small as possible?

P1: Yes

P2: It must be very uncomfurtable to be in that space, and then be grabbed by the ears and raised high in front of a crowd. Like, don't get me wrong, I love magic tricks, but I wand to specify that i honestly feel that this trick in particular is quite inhumane.

... so they can beat the crowds!

Edit: Wow, this is now my second highest upvoted post ever, and it's not even my own joke! Totally should have credited the video I saw this in: https://www.reddit.com/r/PublicFreakout/comments/h8btkp/protester_has_a_joke_for_the_police_officers/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

Thanks for the laughs and great comment threads, Reddit :)

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

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 they interviewed an applicant named Stan. Stan had no arms due to an accident so the hiring manager asked how he would ever be able to do the job.

"I'll show you",said Stan.

They walked up flight after flight of stairs to the Bell tower all the while the manager wondered how Stan would ever be able to do the job. His questions were soon answered when after reaching the Bell tower, Stan took off running striking the bell face first. Gooong goes the bell. Stan picks himself up, takes off running face first at the bell, Gooong.

"Hold, on. You'll hurt yourself."

"I'm tough," said Stan, " "and I really needed this job"

"Ok," said the manager, leaving Stan to do the job.

All day the bell rang on the hour correctly and the manager thought too soon that he had misjudged Stan. Finally, at six in the evening there were only three gongs, then a commotion. Going out to see what was going on he found Stan dead on the street below. Apparently he had become disoriented from head trauma and missed the bell entirely falling to the street below.

"Who was this man, Who was he?" asked the crowd.

Not wanting to admit liability for the accident, the manager said "I don't know."

"But his face sure rings a bell"

I'm seeing a lot of new faces in the crowd tonight and I just have to say I'm really disappointed

He yells "UNO!"

The crowd falls silent in anticipation.

"DOS!"

Everyone's eyes are wide, laser focused on the preformer.

Then, the magician vanishes... without a tres.

Halfway through the show, the music stops and Bono stands middle stage clapping his hands every few seconds. "Every time I clap my hands, a child in Africa dies" Without missing a beat, from somewhere in the front of the crowd a man bellows out in a thick Irish accent: "Well stop fucking doing it ya evil bastard!"

The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave.

Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.

When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."

He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."

So the magistrate kept listening, "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."

Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate.

He stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."

He was in the pulp-ular crowd.

She asked the pastor of a local church if he knew of any houses with rooms to rent that were close to town, but out in the country. The pastor kindly drove her out to see a house with a room to rent. She loved the house and decided to rent the room. Then, the lady returned to her home in England to make her final preparations to move to Switzerland.

When she arrived back home, the thought occurred to her that she had not seen a “W.C.” in the room or even down the hall. (A W.C. is short for “water closet” and is what the English call a toilet.) So she immediately emailed the pastor to ask him where the “W.C.” is located.

The Swiss pastor had never heard of a “W.C.,” and so he Googled the abbreviation and found an article titled “Wayside Chapels.” Thinking that the English lady was asking about a country church to attend near her new home, the pastor responded as follows:

Ms. Smith,

I look forward to your move. Regarding your question about the location of the W.C., the closest W.C. is situated only two miles from the room you have rented, in the center of a beautiful grove of pine trees. The W.C. has a maximum occupancy of 229 people, but not that many people usually go on weekdays. I suggest you plan to go on Thursday evenings when there is a sing-along. The acoustics are remarkable and the happy sounds of so many people echo throughout the W.C.

Sunday mornings are extremely crowded. The locals tend to arrive early and many bring their lunches to make a day of it. Those who arrive just in time can usually be squeezed into the W.C. before things start, but not always. Best to go early if you can!

It may interest you to know that my own daughter was married in the W.C. and it was there that she met her husband. I remember how everyone crowded in to sit close to the bride and groom. There were two people to a seat ordinarily occupied by one, but our friends and family were happy to share.  I will admit that my wife and I felt particularly relieved when it was over. We were truly wiped out.

Because of my responsibilities in town, I can’t go as often as I used to. In fact, I haven’t been in well over a year. I can tell you I really miss regularly going to the W.C. Let’s plan on going together for your first visit. I can reserve us seats where you will be seen by all.

Sincerely,

Pastor Kurt Meier

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

20 Was in the lead "24 the win!" The crowd shouted. Sadly 30 challenged him and 31. But they realized it was a tie! Because 0, 1, 2! And they all 8 together, The end.

In 1827, after Beethoven died, he was buried outside the local church, in the graveyard, and people came to pay their respects frequently.

One morning, about a week after the funeral, two girls came to leave some flowers on his grave, only to hear strange, unearthly sounds coming from it. Creeped out, they called for the local Paranormal Investigator.

The Investigator arrived an hour later, and with him, a small crowd, who had come to see what was happening to the composer’s grave.

Suddenly, one member of the crowd exclaimed, “I recognise that sound! It’s his 9th Symphony, backwards!”

Soon after, another said, “and that’s his 8th, backwards!”

After leaning closer to the grave to inspect this for himself, the Investigator straightened himself up, gave a soft chuckle, and said:

“Never fear, ladies and gentlemen! Beethoven’s just decomposing.”

and he just stands there, surveying the assemblage as the room goes quiet. And suddenly he yells, "All you dirty bastards, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

And the crowd rushing the exists raises a cloud of dust, obscuring vision. When it settled, the gunslinger notices one little wizened old man tucked in a corner beside the piano. The gunslinger walks over, his spurs making a small jingling sound. He stands in front of the still-seated old man. "WELL?," he demands.

The old man looks up earnestly into the gunslinger's face, "Sure was a lot of 'em, wasn't ther?".

A Mexican Magician was about to do his final trick. He told the crowd, "For my final trick, I will make myself disappear on the count of 3." he began counting in Spanish. "Uno... Dos..." POOF! He left without a tres.

The crowd told him he wouldn't be able to swim, but he was in denile.

Come to think of it, I heard about a guy in France doing the same thing, but I'm pretty sure he was inseine.

(From Abbott and Costello’s radio show, December 30, 1943)
Lou Costello: Oh, Abbott, the worst thing just happened to me!
Bud Abbott: No!
Lou Costello: Yeah, Mrs. Niles gave me a dog for a Christmas present, and the dog just took a great big bite out of me!
Bud Abbott: Where did he bite you?
Lou Costello: Well, if I’d have been wearing a license plate, he’d have gotten the last three numbers.
Bud Abbott: Where did this happen?
Lou Costello: Well, let me see, where did this happen — in a crowded streetcar. It was the first time I ever gave my seat to a dog.
Bud Abbott: Well, never mind that. What kind of a dog did Mrs. Niles give you?
Lou Costello: Do you remember that famous dog, Strongheart?
Bud Abbott: Yes, I remember Strongheart.
Lou Costello: Well, this is his brother — Weak Stomach.
Bud Abbott: Listen, I’m not talking about that. What is the dog’s breed?
Lou Costello: What does he breed? He breeds through his nose, like you and me!
Bud Abbott: No, no, no, you dummy, what kind of dog is he? Spitz?
Lou Costello: No, but he drools a little.
Bud Abbott: Look, there are different types of dogs, such as Setters, and Pointers, …
Lou Costello: That’s it, Abbott! He’s a Setter-Pointer!
Bud Abbott: A Setter-Pointer?
Lou Costello: Yeah, he sets all day and points at the icebox! (Editor’s note: we now call an “icebox” a “refrigerator”)

Not many people are aware of its existence but I assure that it is there all the same. The king of this little land faces a lot of difficulty. He wants to make his kingdom into a sovereign nation but unfortunately they do not have the infrastructure, population, or economy to do so. In fact, this small state is only known for a single export. Thanks to their proximity to some of the finest gold and other metals in the world but total lack of an ability to process those metals on a mass scale, they have been left with only one option. You know the saying; when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Make lemonade they did. This tiny territory is renowned for creating the highest quality watches in the world. No expense is spared and their elite group of craftsmen train for their entire lives from childhood to produce these terrific timepieces. Men of great wealth and taste have been known to trade entire fortunes for just a single one of these watches; that is how valuable they are.

The king knows this and he knows that only a small portion of his populace can ever hope to become one of the respected elite, let alone hold one of their masterpieces in their own hands. Being a very just and fair man, the king ordered the most senior watchmaker in the land to create something the likes of which had never been seen. A watch of such great craftsmanship so as to be above monetary value. The man labored long and hard for many nights to produce the king's watch. When he at last presented the completed work to his lord - in front of the entire nation, no less - he was met with thunderous applause and a warm embrace. He had done it! The king then made a shocking announcement.

"This masterpiece belongs to my people!"

When the roaring of the crowd died down he continued.

"This watch shall be a symbol of my love for all of you. Though I rule over you with supreme authority I do not wish a single one of you to feel that you do not have a voice in the ruling of this nation. From this day on let anyone who doubts my decisions or questions my judgment wear this watch and stand as my equal to voice their concerns. Should even a single one of you think me unfair or wrong in any matter then simply come to my castle and I will present you this token of good faith."

The king made good on his word and from that day on all citizens knew they held the right to challenge their king's rulings. Over time the watch became a symbol of fairness throughout the land. Anyone who wore it

Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-

He said, "So I'll go first?"

I said sure.

I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.

He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.

He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.

Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.

After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.

I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"

He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."

(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)

I was sitting at a moderately crowded bar last night enjoying dinner when an older couple came up and sat next to me. We exchanged hellos and I continued eating my jambalaya. After a bit, the husband finally knew what he wanted to drink.

Husband: "Do you have (so and so) beer?"

Bartender: "Hang on a sec, I'll check."

As the bartender walked away, the husband held both of his arms in the air, closing his hands into fists right above his head, a la Steve Holt. After about 30 seconds, and you could tell she really didn't want to, the wife asks what he's doing.

Wife: "Honey, why are your arms in the air?"

Husband: "I'm hanging on."

The wife rolls her eyes and I laugh inappropriately loudly. He grins.

So at this point, the joke has been made. It's over. But no! He's in it for the long haul. He kept his arms in the air for a solid 3 more minutes, just so the bartender could get in on the joke. She returns with his bottle of beer.

Husband: "Can I stop hanging on now?"

Bartender groans.

Wife: "Yes, please."

I admire his dedication. And his taste in beer.

Okay so the animals have been on the ark for thirty days and thirty nights and frankly they are getting bored. So to provide entertainment B-Deck challenges C-Deck to a game of football. They get it all set up and begin play. B-Deck makes some early gains but C-Deck is unstoppable. They have Rhinoceros and once he gets going you cant stop him. Soon the first half is over and the score is 24-7. The second half begins and while in the huddle Rhinoceros looks over at B-Decks defensive line and sees Centipede on their defensive line. "Give me the ball," he says, "There aren't going to be any centipedes in the new world because I'm crushing this one right here and right now" The Center snaps the ball and the quarterback hands it off to Rhinoceros who begins charging down Centipede. Centipede rears up grabs Rhinoceros by the legs and SLAMS him to the deck. Ball pops loose, centipede grabs the ball. He's rushing down the field weaving in and out and TOUCHDOWN!!! The crowd goes wild! C-Deck's captain, Lion rushes over and says, "Centipede that was amazing! Where were you in the first half?" "Well I was lacing my shoes."

A man walks into a crowded, smokey club. He sits at a empty table, next to many nicely dressed men and women. They are all facing a piano lit by a spotlight. Everyone begins to clap as a horse walks out on two legs. Wearing a tailored suit, it sat in front of the ivory keys. In a panic of anxiety it stumbled down the keys, striking random and disjointing notes. As everyone in attendance held there ears, the man stood up and yelled "That's one phoney pony."

The one in the 5th lane had a poorly drawn 5 on it and took off, faster than all the others. The crowd yelled out, look at that S-car go!

There was a poetry slam competition final between a university scholar and a country person.

Both had one minute to think of a poem that had to have timbuktu in it

The university student goes first and says:

slowly across the desert sand

trekking a lonely caravan

men on camels two by two

destination Timbuktu

and the crowd went wild. then it was the country mans turn to go

he said:

Tim and I hunting we went

met three girls in a pop up tent

they were three and we were two

so i bucked one and timbuktu

Who won?

The Englishman and Cowboy were tied in a contest of who was better, when the crowd decided that, as a tie breaker, they were to perform a live poem and incorporate the words "Hunting" and "Timbuktu."

The Englishman went first:

"The hunting is always grand, When in search of good land. Off in the caravan we pursue, Looking, for Timbuktu."

The crowd went wild, knowing that the cowboy couldn't win the contest, the Englishmans poem was just too good. He smiled as well, and stood aside for the cowboy.

The cowboy paused for a moment as if remembering something, then recited:

"Well it was Tim and I, off huntin we went, When I spied three women in a tent. I motioned to Tim, and he saw them too, Then I bucked one, and Timbuktu."

During the consultation on Saturday, my nervous wife accompanied me to learn more about the procedure. She got me pretty good when she said it was an "eye-opening experience."

Rest assured I didn't leave her the last word. After the procedure yesterday, I exited the operating room to find her waiting in a crowded lobby. She looked up at me, and I got her back with "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

So he invited a band to come in and play a few songs to get the church goers more excited to be there. On the bands first song the entire crowd of people turned around at the exact same time. A little boy asked his father "Daddy, what was that?" The boys dad responded "Well son, that was one direct shun."

So at the reception it was my turn to give a speech and it went like this:

"I'm going to start this off with a couple jokes. First, it was a rather emotional wedding right? I mean, my mom was crying, Charity was crying, hell even the cake was in tiers! (many groans throughout the crowd) Second joke, to some marriage is just a word, to others, a sentence."

Besides all the groaning in the crowd I looked at my dad and saw that he was laughing so hard that he turned red and had tears in his eyes, that's how I knew they were good quality dadjokes.

“Make queso, number one.”

The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave.

Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate.

When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."

He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."

So the magistrate kept listening, "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."

Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate.

He stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."

I'm seeing a lot of new faces here in the crowd this week and I have to say I am very disappointed.