The Big Chill Puns

It really grinds my gears when people say stick-shift is obsolete.

Most people like their music bass-boosted, but it seems like too much treble.

When an astronaut drinks tea, he takes a big space-sip.

The best electricity puns are live wires. Coppers really don’t know how to resist these in a coil. If you make enough of this type of pun you can really blow their fuses. You need to be smart about how you conduct these so you don’t overload your capacitors.

The only kind of rap I like is the wrapping paper on gifts.

Scissors always cut to the point.

Airplane puns always fly overhead. You have to be careful so you don’t stall out. Always use better judgement so you nose how to dive. When used correctly, this pun classification can really propel to infinity and beyond. However, if misused, the fall from grace is full of turbulence.

When working with electricity puns always make sure to be grounded to prevent shocking results.

Mr. Tea says, ”Don’t be a fool, stay in school!”

i c e i c e w a t e r

Architecture is an aspiring career path.

‘Pun’ puns don’t add up. The are starting to get negative receptions.

I’ll do algebra. I’ll even do calculus. But graphing is where I draw the line.

Plants should always rooted in the ground.

Never argue with people when they are right or nobody will be left hanging out with you.

Rocks make boulder moves. This means they are pelite and not jagged. Don’t take these puns for granite.

Cheese puns are grate because you don’t have to ask for parmesan to use them.

Eskimos have cold personality. It is an ice society, but some of their history chills my spine.

My dog died a few years ago. It was really ruff.

I am not a fan of wind turbines.

Life is like driftwood. You never know where you will float.

Christmas lights stick together. When one goes out, they all do.

Puns about communism are only funny if everyone gets them.

Rocket scientists cannot fuel around or something bad can happen.

A baker is someone who kneads to make baked goods.

I sometimes wear stripes to avoid being spotted.

Sponges are great at absorbing liquids.

Contrary to the name, relationships have nothing to do with boats.

Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.

To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.

I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.

Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.

You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.

The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.

The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.

Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.

Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.

But so far, I've quit cold turkey.