The Profession Puns

They had to go to the Cairo-practor.

Farmers. Their jokes are really corny.

…Where did the guys get the money to pay with?

ER

Morticians. They are very deadicated.

He told me it was the only job he could see himself doing

They just arrrr!

Marine Biologists!!

Because good things come to those who wait.

That of a notary

Architect. Because they'll forever be making entrances and drawing stairs.

A Maleman...

They are very sawwy.

They rarely lose their patients.

I tried to reassure him by pointing out that they understand the risks of their profession, and he asked, "how many is a Brazilian?"

A chemist walks into a bar and orders a beer. "I'm thinking about changing professions. I find the periodic table boring," he tells the bartender. "There's no element of surprise."

Pointing his firearm at two cashiers, he shouts “hand over the contents of the cash register! I need it to set myself up in a trade or profession...you know, a habitual occupation followed for a livelihood and involving commercial transactions!”

Cashier 1: “What do we do?”

Cashier 2: “Do what he says, I think he means business!”

Dissatisfied with the style of life that he found there, The Monk decides to move into a suburban neighborhood and start up his own line of work. Being trained in the peaceful ways he gets on very well with his neighbours who eventually notice that he has a very strange profession. Despite being very strong and very philosophical The Monk elects to repeatedly visit places with broken fences and remove and replace them.

One day has neighbour approaches him and asks, "with the physical strength and mental capacity that you seem to have, are you not interested in a more physically or mentally challenging job?"

To which The Monk replies, "but everybody knows reposting gives you the most karma."

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 didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s 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 wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.

Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s 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 that’ll 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.

“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.

“Please, call me Max”

“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”

“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”

The term for farting often is to "toot", and his profession is a tutor.

So, if this man from Tooting is farting at work... you can say that a Tooter is tooting in Tooting whilst tutoring.

" Did you know that Chiropractor is the most prevalent profession in Ukraine?"

"Hmm, I had no idea"

"Yeah, it's 'cause when you live there you crane your neck a lot"

eye roll

Bought some pizza slices and while I was filling up my drink from the soda fountain, there was a family of four talking about, of all things, medical professions. The daughter at the table said she thought a proctologist was basically a pervert since they'd be focused on butts all day every day.

The mom explained that you wouldn't call a heart surgeon who uses tools to literally crack open a person's chest cavity and muck around with things a serial killer, so why would you call a doctor who specializes in proctology a pervert?

The dad then chimed in "No that's not right... a serial killer is someone who uses Captain Crunch to murder another person!"

Silence at the table, and the daughter groaned rather loudly. I happened to make eye contact with the dad and just smirked and nodded, which made him beam, and walked out the door to hear him say "Right? Right guys?"

Well done, sir.

My mom and dad are funeral directors, and we live in an apartment on top of the shop.

I was at a friends house yesterday, and my dad came around to pick me up. The friends house is like far out into the woods, so it's kinda hard to find, but he got in on the first try. So I got in the car and this conversation happened:

 

Thanks for picking me up, glad you could find the place.

>No problem, it's what I do for a living

??

>I get called up in the middle of the night, get in my car and drive to some house I've never been to before

...

>Then I pick someone up who needs my help, drive them all the way back to the shop and feel that I've done something good this night.

 

He's the only person I know that is able to joke around this much about his profession. It's pretty darn cool!

My dad always responds to a yes or no question in the same exact way when it involves a server or any other profession. For example:

Waiter: Would you like to see the dessert menu?

Dad: No thanks, I'm driving.

He told me it was the only job he could see himself doing.