A list of puns related to "The Deep End"
Life guard noticed and blew his whistle so hard I nearly fell in.
How shallow is that?!
Lifeguard blew his whistle so loud I almost fell in
“I can’t stand it here!”
because it is just beta.
Save them to your Phone and always have witty jokes at the palm of your hand.
3.14 percent of sailors are pi-rates.
5/4 of people admit they’re bad at fractions.
A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.
A brain walks into a bar and takes a seat. “I’d like some wings and a pint of beer, please,” it says. “Sorry, but I can’t serve you,” the bartender replies. “You’re out of your head.”
A cheeseburger walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Sorry, we don't serve food here.'
A college education now costs $100,000, but it produces three very proud people: the student, his mama, and his pauper.
A couple of cups of yogurt walk into a country club. “We don’t serve your kind here,” the bartender says. “Why not?” one yogurt asks. “We’re cultured.”
A friend of mine didn’t pay his exorcist. He got repossessed.
A friend of mine is known for sweeping girls off their feet. He’s an extremely aggressive janitor.
A guy walks into a bar, and there’s a horse serving drinks. The horse asks, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a horse tending bar before?” The guy says, “It’s not that. I just never thought the parrot would sell the place.”
A guy walks into a bar...and he was disqualified from the limbo contest.
A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head. The bartender says, “What’s with the paper towel?” The pirate says, “Arrr! I’ve got a Bounty on me head!”
A turtle is crossing the road when he’s mugged by two snails. When the police ask him what happened, the shaken turtle replies, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”
Armed robbers—some say they’re a drain on society, but you’ve got to give it to them.
Barbers…you have to take your hat off to them.
Can February March? No, but April May!
Cooking out this weekend? Don’t forget the pickle. It’s kind of a big dill.
Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don't think they'll fit me.
Dad, can you put the cat out? I didn't know it was on fire.
Dad, did you get a haircut? No, I got them all cut!
Dad: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? Son: No. What happened? Dad: The teacher woke him up.
Daughter: I have a lot of friends named Nathan. There’s Nathan Miller, Nathan Radcliff, Nathan Lewis… Me: When they are together, do you call them the United Nathans?
Dear Math, grow up and solve your own problems.
Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head!
Did you hear about the aquatic sea mammals that escape
... keep reading on reddit ➡They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡They'd traded jokes, played pop music, and generally made people's lives a touch brighter as they trundled to work.
Now, though, there was silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax message from the Department of Defense. As licensed broadcasters they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them the nukes were flying and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. What, though, was the point of that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?
Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio door the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.
Bert, always the consummate professional, turned away from the window as the first explosion split the distant horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt, and brushed his hair back. He would meet his fiery death with dignity.
He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"
Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He looked into Bert's face and saw the closeness they shared, the strength of their relationship, forged over the years. He took a deep breath and spoke quietly:
"With your eyes, Bert."
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.
Many years passed by like that.
At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.
With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:
Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.
A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:
Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:
Thank you
When I was a kid my dad would take me to this public pool by our house. He'd carry my because the water was too deep for me but he'd always fall into these damn holes and I'd end up underwater. Sure it was kind of fun but when I got older I couldn't find any holes.
TL;DR My dad is a fucking LIAR. j/k love you dad
Most of them were all bark and no bite, even though they branched out to more deep rooted subjects. Some of the saps had to leave usually. Everyone was oakay in the end though, it left some of us feeling fruity. I was asked how the others were affected, but i told them i wooden know. I bought a wooden tv shortly after but everything was payperview.
Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.
Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":
So my dad pretty much lays this one on every friend of mine he ever meets.
There once was this man named Benny, who had the strongest desire to live forever. The devil knew these desires, and arose out of the dephts to make a deal with Benny.
The deal stated that, in exchange for Benny's soul, he would be gifted with immortality. The only condition was that Benny could not shave any part of his body, ever, or he would be instantly transformed into an urn.
Benny went on with his now unending life and found himself falling in love with a girl shortly after accepting this deal with the devil. The girl however. Would not love him back because of his ridiculously long hair covering his entire body. It was said that the hair from his knuckles would sweep the floor when he walked into the room, and he would constantly trip himself on his beard.
The girl eventually died and Benny fell into a deep depression. He decided it would be best to end his misery by going to a barbershop, and getting a shave. He sat in the barber's seat, and as soon as the blade reached his skin, he was transformed, and all that remained in the seat was a large, metal urn.
The moral of the story... A Benny Shaved is a Benny Urned.
I was on the phone with my dad just now, and he was talking about his co-worker that had colon cancer. Not the regular colon cancer that's deep in the colon where you get tested for it and have surgery, but right there on the delivery end. The kind where it hurts when you sit down or when you go to poop.
He said it was a pain in the butt.
The lifeguard noticed and blew his whistle so loud, I almost fell in
The lifeguard blew his whistle so hard I almost fell in
They snuck from their beds in the middle of the night and met in the gloomy darkness in front of the house, shivering in the cold.
The first boy said in a loud whisper, "You guys bring anything?" He slid a gun out of his pocket. The second boy nodded and revealed a knife. The third boy pulled out a flashlight.
"You didn't bring a weapon?" the first boy asked. He shrugged and replied, "Sorry". And as if to prove it, he turned his pockets out to show nothing but stray lint and a pack of cough drops.
They crept in. The door shut behind them. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. The flash light clicked on. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door on the other side, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a dead body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They found a fully set, ornate dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal goblets, pitchers and silverware adorned the table. Spiders crept over ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hel
... keep reading on reddit ➡They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit ➡Bert and Ernie worked together as daytime radio hosts for over twenty years. They'd traded jokes, played pop music and generally made peoples lives a touch brighter as they trundled to their workplace.
Now though, there was a silence on the air. Ernie silently reread the fax from civil defense. As licensed broadcasters, they were legally obligated to alert the public, to tell them that several nuclear missile launches had occured, and that in a few minutes all the world's troubles would be over. But what was the point in that? To torture people with the knowledge of something they couldn't change?
Ernie looked up at Bert. Their eyes met and a decision was reached. Bert put on their most requested song, a sugary top 40 tune, while Ernie produced a bottle of bourbon from under the desk. As their producer banged on the locked studio coor, the colleagues toasted the end of a long career.
Bert. always the consummate professional, turned away as the first explosion split the horizon. He straightened his tie, tucked in his shirt and brushed his hair back. He would meat his fiery death with dignity.
He turned to Ernie and said in a quiet, resigned voice, "How do I look, Ernie?"
Ernie walked slowly over to his friend. He hugged his companion, released him and studied Bert's face. He saw the closeness they shared, all the long years tying them together, and the strength of their relationship. He took a deep breath, with tears streaming down his cheeks. He spoke in a quiet, broken tone:
"With your eyes, Bert."
I hate the deep end of the pool
I think he went off the deep end
I went swimming pool yesterday and I have to admit I peed in the deep end and we'll the lifeguard noticed me .. that fucker blew that whistle so loud ..I almost fell in..
Please note that this site uses cookies to personalise content and adverts, to provide social media features, and to analyse web traffic. Click here for more information.