The People Next Door Puns

It was due the second hand smoke

Dave was bragging to his boss one day,

"You know, I know everyone famous there is to know"

"Go on - Just name someone, anyone, and I bet that know them"

Tired of his boasting, his boss decides to call Dave's bluff,

"OK, Dave, how about Tom Cruise?"

"Not a problem boss"

"Tom and I are old friends, and I can prove it"

So Dave and his boss fly out to Hollywood and knock on Tom Cruise's door.

Tom Cruise is at home and answers the door himself and shouts,

"Dave! What's happening?"

"Great to see you!"

"Come on in for a beer!

Although shocked and more than a little impressed, Dave's boss is still sceptical and he tells Dave that he thinks him knowing Cruise was just pure luck.

"No, no, just name anyone else then"

Dave says.

"President Biden!"

His boss quickly retorts.

"Yup"

Dave says, "We're buddies from years ago"

"Let's fly out to Washington and I'll show you"

So they fly out to Washington and go on the Whitehouse tour"

"While walking through the White House, Biden himself appears, spots Dave on the tour and motions him and his boss over, saying,

"Dave, what a surprise,it's great to see you again after all this time"

"I was just on my way to a meeting but you and your friend come on in and let's have a cup of coffee first and catch up"

After they leave the White House grounds the boss tells Dave that he's still not entirely convinced.

Dave again implores him to name another famous person.

After thinking about it for a long timethe boss replies with,

"The Pope!"

"Sure thing!"

Says Dave,

"I've known the Pope for years - since before he became Pope in fact"

So off they fly to Rome.

Dave and his boss are assembled with the masses in Saint Peter's Square at the Vatican.

Dave says,

"This will never work"

"I can't catch the Pope's eye among all these people"

"Tell you what, I know all the Pope's guards here as well so let me just go upstairs and I'll come out on the balcony with the Pope."

Sure enough, half an hour later Dave emerges with the Pope on the balcony, but by the time Dave returns, he finds that his boss has had a heart attack and is surrounded by paramedics.

Making his way to his boss' side, Dave asks him,

"What happened?"

His boss looks up and says,

"It was the final straw"

"You and the Pope came out on the balcony and a Japanese tourist next to me said, to me... "

"Who the hell is that on the balcony with Dave?"

The friar puts a sign outside that said ‘bell ringer wanted, tryouts Saturday morning’

Saturday morning rolls around, and there were three people lined up out front of the church waiting to try to ring the bell. A tall, muscular man, a skinnier, frail man, and an average sized man.

The friar took them all up one at a time and handed them the hammer to hit the church bells with.

The muscular man grabbed the hammer in one hand, slammed it into the bell, and nearly shattered both with the force behind the swing. The friar said that they’ll have to keep looking.

The frail man could barley pick up the hammer. He swung it pitifully, and managed to ting the bell. The friar just shook his head and chuckled, thanking the man for coming.

The average sized man refused the hammer. Before the friar could question it, the man reared his head back and slammed it into the bell, producing a ring of such pure tone and quality it brought a tear to the friar’s eye. While he was wiping the tear from his face, the man, stumbling from the impact of skull to bell, accidentally tripped and fell off the bell tower to his death.

Well, the townsfolk had heard the beautiful bell, and a small crowd had gathered beneath the bell tower around the man’s body.

Collectively, they said “Who is he Friar? What happened?”

The friar shook his head sadly and said

“I don’t know, but his face rings a bell”

BUT IT ISN’T OVER CAUSE THEY STILL NEED A BELL RINGEE ROUND TWO KIDDOS HERE WE GO!!

So the next morning, when the friar opened the doors in the morning, a man approached him and said “Friar, you don’t know me, but the man who died yesterday was my brother. I’d be honored if you’d let me ring the bell today in his honor.”

The friar nodded and let the new man up the bell tower, handing him the hammer.

With a nightly swing, the man slammed the bell, producing again a high quality ringing tone. Unfortunately, he slipped while off balance and fell off the bell tower too and died.

Again, people were gathered around and they all asked as one “Who is he, Friar, what happened?”

The friar looked at them all in turn and said “I don’t know, but he’s a dead ringer for his brother”

Having a bit of a discipline issue with my daughter... she'll bring a pile of sand inside and make what she calls her "land". It's sand arranged in a flattish layer, with toy animals and her lego house (Friends^TM , why she no like diggers and helicopters and whatever, why she gotta be so girly??). She doesn't like getting her hand dirty while she's doing it, wears a glove to keep clean, so you'd think she could understand the concept that I don't like the floor getting dirty... but no, she doesn't give a shit.

Had her third birthday party recently, and gave her a Skye (Paw Patrol) plushy, she loves it. Because it's her newest and most favourite toy in the whole world, and because it was for her birthday, we can't confiscate it no matter what.

Very next day, she makes her land again, Skye's there at the side - she's too big to sit in the middle, it would dominate all the plastic dinosaurs and lego Friends people (not the usual mini-figs, they're a bit more anatomically correct, anyway that's not important right now). So I'm all angry and "why you keep doing this", take the glove off her and sweep up the sand. Put her in the time out cage for a bit. Well, we call it the cage, it's just a cupboard under the stairs which is a bit shorter than her so she has to sit there if she doesn't want to bump her head. Throw her in there for one minute per year of age, is the standard procedure.

Anyway, as we close the door she starts singing...

Take my glove

Take my land

Take me where I cannot stand

I don't care

I'm still three

You can't take this Skye from me

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

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

Note: Quality Very Varying (I see what I did there) and sometimes subject to specialist knowledge. So I apologise in advance. Shame me with your better puns.

While I was languishing in the Language Centre, doing some semantics antics and considering how all the other linguistics students despised and derided me, I was accosted by a stout man with large glasses who made me a preposition. It was that I should collect terrible puns, to do with linguistics, in order to ingratiate myself yet further with the other linguistics students (including even the phonetics fanatics).

I'm struggling to think of a pun to do with grammaticality that both makes sense and "Is grandma tickly?" correct. I'm also stuck on 'morphologician'. (I'm not actually sure that's a particularly logical word for the subject, though I guess that's more for, er, more for a logician to worry about.)

The problem I have with writing about phonological variation is that one is constantly forced to choose between being fun or logical - very Asian!I always get in trouble with electricians, they think I'm calling them a 'dialectician' whereas in fact I'm just saying "Die, electrician."

I like pscycholinguistics – the only department of linguistics where it’s acceptable to wear a cycle helmet. My Australian accent is terrible but I like to think my Sath Efrican one is predicate. My favourite accent is Received Pronunciation, because it is the accent chiefly used by invisible Japanese people who are ordered online. When the first recipient of an invisible Japanese person got the parcel, they wrote a complaint saying "Received but can't see Asian" and the name stuck.

Why did the speakers whose native languages weren't English, but whose only shared language was English, but they weren't very good at it and kept on having to stop to think about it, stop talking to one another? They came to an agreement. (Get it? If not, write your answer on a pastecard and paste it to the below address.)

What did the 'a' say to the 'the'? "You definitely are ticklish, 'the'!"

Why was the small man eaten by the large bear, which was proportionately bigger than him? It had, er, relative claws.

I think the reason there are so many speakers of Russian is because they all partake in an activity called "copulae shun". (Ok, ok, I know, that was Pushkin it.)

I know a man called Hillary who can, might, should, did, must, shall and will ride an ox. We call him "Ox Hillary".

I always think the verb 'to be' in the senten

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

It was the end of class. Before dismissing us, he informs us that we won't be having class the next day and will instead be going to the gymnasium for an assembly. When the bell rang, as everyone was leaving class, I went to his desk and asked what the assembly was supposed to be about. His Response:

"I'm just a mushroom." ...awkward pause, stare... "I live in the dark and people drop crap on me."

I wasn't really sure how to react to that. With a confused look on my face, I just turned around and walked out the door. I'm still not sure if that was a dad joke or the musings of a bitter old man. Maybe both. I don't know, it just seems like it belongs here, if only for the sheer awkwardness of it.

I feel like I don’t have enough for mermaids, unicorns other creatures etc. Here are the ones I already have...

Basic witch

Spell the tea

Demons are a ghouls best friend

Little black magic dress

The ghoul next door

Squad ghouls

Witch and famous

Resting witch face

Be careful what you witch for

Witch me luck

Witchful thinking

Make love not warlock

Be afraid, be fairy afraid

A good shaman/talisman is hard to find

Do you really wand to hurt me

Black cat got your tongue

But of curse

Safe hex

Group hex

Big girls don’t scry

It’s my party and I’ll scry if I want to

Trickbait

Fright club

You used to call me on my shell phone

New shellpone, who dis?

Hey, I'm a mermaid and this is crazy, but here's my conch shell, so call me maybe

Yeah the buoys

Don’t krill my vibe

This is boo sheet

Give em pumkin to talk about

Howl you doin’

Don’t be a jerk-o-lantern

Witch, please

Witch better have my candy

Boo Felicia

Romeo and Ghouliet

Cereal killer

Bun in the coven

Summer coven’

Boo-ty sleep

How do you boo?

Creep calm and carry on

What ghost around, comes around

No rest for the wicca’d

I’ll have what banshee’s having

Zombodie that I used to know

Sugar dead-y

Wicca’d stepmother

Smells like teen spirits

The only hexception

Neck-romancer

Abracadaver

That’s what’s banshee said

Dead Flanders

Matt Demon

Icy dead people

Purranormal activity

Straight outta coffin

Congrats to the bride and broom

Let’s get sheet faced

Let’s talk about hex, baby

Hex on the beach

Netflix and kill

Silk Satan sheets

I’m literally dying

Ghost Malone

Broom hair, don’t care

Happy Hallowine

Look what you made me brew

Deja boo

Practice safe hex

Boo berry muffins

There will be hell toupee

Boo lagoon

Coffin up blood

Salty witch

Over the moonicorn

All bayou self

Bad neck-romance

Boy necks door

Allergic to fairy

You’re so vein

Bats and bobs

All you can eat Buffy

Owl put a spell on you

Faboolous

Zombae

Oh my goth!

Ghoulboss

Bone appetit

Love you to the tomb and back

Dead & breakfast

Séayoncé

I Ouija love