A list of puns related to "The Blamed"
It was a lie of emission.
Most of which are Un-Presidented
Sorry sir we are not responsible for lost any articles.
The Space Goat.
That's your own asphalt.
After all, it was Adam's apple!
Because Missouri loves company.
Itβs always the Earthβs fault.
Guess they're blaming it on the boogie.
It's not their fault
He didn't follow the Al Gore rhythm
I canβt blame him, itβs in the name.
People who have no toilet paper have only themselves to blame
They should have bought some before the shit hit the pan
The man never took it seriously at first, he figured he was just getting older and blamed it on age.
After a few weeks, the man has developed an incredible frequent and annoying cough.
His wife is annoyed and is constantly telling him to go the doctor, but the man kept refusing.
One day during an argument, his wife has had it with his coughing and hacking and tells him "Im making a bet, if this damn coughin kills you i'm writing ' I told you so' on your tombstone!"
The man laughs her off since they both have a twisted sense of humor, and tells her its a deal, if the coughin kills him she can carve that.
The man continues on for another week
One day the man is out going for a walk through his neighborhood, when a freak accident occurs between a truck carrying coffins and a car, which results in a coffin flying off the truck, tragically landing on the old man and kills him.
Later at his funeral, his wife makes a very odd request to have them carve "I told you so" on his headstone.
When the caretaker asks her why she wants to do this, she tells him about their dark humor, and fills him in on the bet they recently made.
The caretaker is touched by the story, and agrees to do it for her, because in the end,
It was that damn coffin that killed him
Everyone. They all share the blame.
They blamed it on the cost of living.
The authorities report that the man had only his shelf to blame.
No? Well, I blame myself mostly for the breakup. She was a brunette until the house burned down.
I could blame the oven but ultimately itβs salami.
They are blaming it on the cost of living.
Courtney Love once asked Jon Bon Jovi to name her new band. Bon Jovi jokingly suggested 'Hole'.
Love though this was great - provocative and rude - so she went with it. Her ex, Corey Hart, of 'Sunglasses At Night' fame, did not approve. He sought to confront Bon Jovi on the night of Hole's first gig and, a little drunk, tried to climb the fence of Bon Jovi's LA estate.
Bon Jovi, thinking Hart an intruder, winged him with a gun belonging to Bono and The Edge's tour manager, who was dining there that night. The ensuing fracas was in all the papers, overshadowing Hole's debut, and angering Kurt Cobain, who was interested in Hole's lead singer.
Cobain sent Jon Bon Jovi a note, demanding he apologise, and Bon Jovi replied ...
"Shot Corey Hart, and U2 blamed. You give Love a band name."
Hey guys, this might sound too cheesy and I'm not sure if I'm posting on the right subreddit.
Every Saturday I give my SO a printed typography paper that I personally design with a pun of her name on it (her name is Des, I call her Mae so either is good).
Problem is, I can make the designs, but I'm running out of puns. Here's a list of what I've already done:
Des puns:
Hardest
Wordes (Words)
Widest
Uncondesionally (Unconditionally)
DrivES
Dessert
Fades
Des (This)
Holidess (Happy Holidays!)
Desperate
Desision (Decision)
Decades
Desert
Destination
Dress (DrESs)
Despresso (Espresso)
Mae puns:
I'd really appreciate some help if you guys have any puns reserved. Anything will do, really.
Thanks!
EDIT: Formatting
Dad: "Was it ISIS? I thought it was just some gun-nut!"
Me googeling: "Wikipedia says that ISIS took the blame, but that the governemt isn't certain that they were responsible."
Dad: "Oh, so it was IS-ish."
The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.
The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didnβt blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxerβs jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasnβt hiring me for my looks and I wasnβt looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.
Max Dad P.I. - thatβs me. Private Investigatorβs sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and thatβll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.
βSo as I was saying, Mr Dad,β she began.
βPlease, call me Maxβ
βAlright, Maxβ¦ well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?β
βNo thatβs alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,β I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, βIβm sure itβll be a brief case.β
My dance partner dislocated my arm. She told me that she was not going to shoulder all the blame and that it was a joint effort.
I was holding my month-old son after dinner and he kept ripping ass (seriously, this kid farts so loudly I get blamed for it). My wife comes up behind me and asks, "so, are you surviving his... ass-ault?" and gives me this shit-eating grin. I groaned, the baby farted, I changed his diaper (as is my duty.. heh heh... duty).
He always complains when they don't know the difference between jimmies and sprinkles. But I can't blame him he did do extensive ice cream research in Sunday School.
So I just got back from a run, and must have eaten something earlier, because as soon as I came inside, I ripped a really loud, nasty fart. I jokingly blamed it on her, and she laughed a bit until she smelled it. As she was busy plugging her nose I lay this on her.
Me: Well you know what they say, the one that smelt it is the one that dealt it. Her: That's not funny, I know it was you, that saying doesn't make any sense right now. Me: I think it makes a lot of scents. Wah-waaah..
There was a boy in high school named Bonnie. As you can imagine, he was bullied and picked on because of his strange name. This lead to social anxiety and a few other issues, but there was one girl who helped him through all of his pain. He had a huge crush on this girl, and after weeks of psyching himself up, he asked her to the school dance coming up.
Much to his delight, he said yes, and off to the dance they went. They had a great time and shortly after, started dating. They spent a lot of time together, calling, texting and always hanging out. They were meant for each other. They continued dating after high school, into college. On their graduation day, he proposed to her on the stage. He was nervous about asking her in public like this, but as he got down on one knee, her face lit up, tears formed in her eyes. He asked her to marry him, she said yes and the crowd cheered.
Fast forward a few years, they've bought their own house, and she's now pregnant with their first child. In the delivery room, Bonnie is standing by her side, their newborn child in her arms.
"I love you so much, hon." Bonnie told his wife, holding one of her hands. "You can name our baby girl anything you wise." he told her.
"Love. I want to name her Love." she replied, looking into his eyes. Bonnie was surprised by the strange name, and at first hesitant to agree, but he told her she could name their daughter anything. He nods in agreement and they carry on with their lives.
Fourteen years later, as with what happened with Bonnie, Love was picked on in high school for her strange name. One day, Love came home crying.
"What's wrong, Love?" Bonnie asked her worriedly.
"I hate you! Why did you give me such a stupid name?!" she screamed at him. She was furious. She was tired of the teasing and the mockery in high school. In a fit of rage, she pulled out Bonnie's handgun she had found in his night stand. She pulled the trigger and a bullet passed into Bonnie's chest.
Love panicked and ran away, and Bonnie's wife came after hearing the gun shot. She ran to Bonnie's side, picking his head up in her hands. She asked him what had happened.
"Shot through the heart... And you're to blame..." He said, weakly. "You gave Love... A bad name."
If all of your books fall on the floor, you only have yourshelf to blame.
My daughter had just vacated a chair, and my wife was trying to move it with her foot. She turns to me and asks, "Is your leg on the chair?" I said, "No." She asks, "Why can't I move it?" I jokingly replied, "Because you're weak?" And then, inspiration hit: "Don't blame it on me, blame it on mu." She just shook her head while I laughed.
Let's just say the taste and smell wasn't the best. My daughter (we can call her LD) was refusing to eat any more when my wife reminded her that she wouldn't get any dessert unless she ate a few more bites. I notice that LD was just barely eating two black beans off her spoon. I looked at BDH and LD and said "I don't blame you for only eating the beans. The rest is just fowl." It took a few seconds before hearing the groans we all love so much.
So a couple days ago as I was leaving work I get a phone call from a friend of mine who I shall call k during this story
Now K never calls people so I was surprised that he was calling me, and was even more surprised when the first words he said when I picked up where, βAcriloc youβre a bad influence on my brother.β
I was shocked at such an accusation, wounded even and asked why. K then proceeded to tell me how when he was at work he slipped on a recently mopped floor and fractured his arm. A coworker of his dropped him off at the ER where he decided to text his brother C, someone whom Iβm friend with as well, while he waited.
C asked if K was ok, and how since K works in a kitchen whatβs he going to do if he canβt use his right arm for a while. K then told C how he tends to practice using his left arm just in case anything like this would happen, and though he wonβt be able to do everything he did in the kitchen heβll still be able to work and help out.
C responded with, βI guess all that practice came in....handy.β
Causing K to burst out in laughter in the middle of the ER waiting room, filled with people who are in pain and not having a pleasant day. The amount of death stares he got from people as he was laughing while trying to point at his phone and explain heβs laughing because of a lame joke his brother sent him was quite the sight to behold apparently.
Apparently I am to blame for all this because C used to never make jokes like that until he met me since I try to find any excuse to make a dad joke.
That's your own Asphalt.
That's your own asphalt.
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