The Age Of Reason Puns

There was this guy, mid to late twenties, black hair, just average next door type of guy. Mind you, he's not a dad yet. He's a honest worker who worked his way up in his job and makes a decent living for a man of his age. When he was a kid he was not extremely sharp and people would make fun of his stupidity. But he didn't care about that. He gave all he could and went abroad to get the best education from the best university of his time. He graduated top of the class. The he came back to his home town, got a job and fell in love with a beautiful young girl. They were about to get married but unfortunately for some reason god went "hmmm he's doing good for someone his age, better have small chat with him" and took him and he dropped dead just days before his wedding day. The bride who was about to get married to that man was absolutely devasted. She was so in love but unfortunately that didn't end well. She shut herself off from the world and cried every night. Lucky, for her the man left all he earned to be passed on to her if he happened to pass away before her. Then after a year of grieving the girl pulled herself out of her sadness and seclusion and bought a nice house for herself and settled there. But she never got married or made love The on one nice evening the women decided to go to the nearest pub and get some social interaction. She saw this young lad drinking booze all by himself and noticed he kinda looked sad. The lady decided to talk to that guy because she knew how miserable sadness can be. So she initiated a convo with that young lad. The lad took notice of the effort and kind heart of the lady and decided to share his life story, how he grew up in farm house and how he loved farming and all. He was rather peculiar about tractors and such farm equipments, spoke like someone describing about their love of their life. The lady noticed his love for his profession and inquired more. He went on to talk about tractors and all and how he dreamt of riding one when he was a kid and everything. He proceeded to tell how a few years ago a terrible accident made him hate the very tractors he loved as a kid. For someone who inquired more, the lady got tired of hearing about farm equipments and decided to call her day off and told the guy she's going to head back to her house. It was late night about half past 10 and so the lad offered to walk her home. The lady and the lad started to walk down the sub urbs, where the houses were distant and people occup

I did some yardwork yesterday and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer. The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking. My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing, and I said, "Nothing." The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying "just thinking" is because she then would have asked, "About what?" At that point I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions. Finally I pondered an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts? Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer, and some more heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby, and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion: A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, "It might be nice to have another child." But you never hear a guy say, "You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts." I rest my case. Time for another beer.

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

As a professional children's entertainer, finding the dad jokes thread has been a real blessing. I work mainly with children between the ages of four and eight, and, for obvious reasons, I need to keep my jokes clean. In my business, a groan is just as good as the laugh because it usually is accompanied by a smile!

I'm afraid I don't know who started it, but the "this paper says otherwise" is easily one of my favorites. I took the liberty of having 500 business cards that say "otherwise" on them. I use them in my performances in a variety of ways. If I see a dad after my show who looks like the type who might enjoy a good pun, I will go up to him and ask him if he thought the show was good. Inevitably he will say yes, and I'll tell him that "Unfortunately this card says otherwise." I then leave the dad with the card to use at his own behest.

Just wanted to give a big shout out and a big thank you to the Dad jokes community for inspiration. People ask me what I do for a living and I tell them I'm the Jimmy Fallon to five-year-olds. Thanks so much for contributing all you guys do!

Hi Folks, If you are a linguist then I am selling your dream car! I’m selling an Accent, a 2004 Hyundai Accent to be precise. Even if you don’t know a bunch of languages, this car is still great for you.

Just like me, it’s been around the birthday block a few times, but there’s still lots of life left in both of us, I guarantee! If you are looking for the perfect body, seek out a surgeon. If you’re looking for a car that will love you just the way you are, this is it. Now I know what you’re thinking, “I bet this is a junker”, but you’d be wrong. Next to my wife this is the best body I’ve ever had my hands on.

What’s wrong with it mechanically you ask? Nothing! It drives great, A/C & heat still work like a dream, breaks work, transmission shifts good, and the 1.6L engine runs great. With its age, the engine has had some parts replaced. All the belts have recently been changed, that happens with age as I just went up a few sizes myself. The washer fluid pump has been changed because it’s important to be able to have a good cry once in a while. I did an oil change in the summer and depending on how long it takes for this car to finds it’s new match, I will do another in the next month or so.

Since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I’ll give you a run down of what the interior is like. It’s what’s on the inside that matters anyway right? I am the 3rd owner of this car and the previous owner was a smoker. I don’t believe there is a cigarette smell anymore but the cloth seats do have little holes in them. I mean hey, when you play with fire you get burnt right? The stereo head unit has been replaced with a modern Pioneer as the original just wasn’t in tune with my musical needs as a Dj. The only real problem this pretty young thing has is the passenger rear seatbelt does not retract. Since I have two mini controllers I taxi around, I’ve had car seats in the back and have had no reason to replace the seatbelt yet. A new one is only a cool $250 from Hyundai but will take some time for delivery. There are still 4 working seatbelts in the car so if you’re traveling with another couple, I’m sure they’ll love to cuddle up in the middle and behind you, the driver.

The trunk is spacious enough for the average trunk but just doesn’t work out so well for hauling Dj gear. The rear seats fold as easy a poker player having their bluff called, so it will give you extra room. Not much more that I can think of to tell you about but take a look at the plethora of p

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

So when I was younger my Dad would sometimes make me a root beer float/ice cream float/coke float/etc. But one day my Dad asks me, "Hey do you want a wood float?" I'm not exactly sure what a wood float is, but my experiences with floats in general have gone AMAZINGLY well through this point in my life. So I say yes without giving it too much thought. My Dad brings me a glass of water with a toothpick in it. Enormous grin on his face. Very much the opposite on mine.

I now realize at the age of 26, that the only reason he ever made me the root beer floats and other floats, was just to set me up for one of the Daddest jokes of all time.

Having said that, I will be using this on my child.