The Way I Are Puns

I said, “You’re the ones blocking!”

They’re calling themselves the Guard-Ians of the Galaxy.

She said, “Yeah.”

I said, “I knew it!”

It's an exercise in feudality!

He asks the assistant “Do you have ‘European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2? I believe it was released this week.”

“Certainly,” replies the assistant. “Would you like to listen before you buy it?”

"That would be wonderful," says the expert, and puts on a pair of headphones.

He listens for a few moments and says to the assistant, “I'm terribly sorry, but I am the world's leading expert on European wasps and this is not accurate at all. I don't recognize any of those sounds. Are you sure this is the correct recording?”

The assistant checks the turntable, and replies that it is indeed European Vespidae Acoustics Volume 2. The assistant apologizes and lifts the needle onto the next track.

Again the expert listens for a few moments and then says to the assistant, "No, this just can't be right! I've been an expert in this field for 43 years and I still don't recognize any of these sounds."

The assistant apologizes again and lifts the needle to the next track.

The expert throws off the headphones as soon as it starts playing and is fuming with rage.

"This is outrageous false advertising! I am the world's leading expert on European wasps and no European wasp has ever made a sound like the ones on this record!"

The manager of the shop overhears the commotion and walks over.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?"

"This is an outrage! I am the world's leading expert on European wasps. Nobody knows more about them than I do. There is no way in hell that the sounds on that record were made by European wasps!"

The manager glances down and notices the problem instantly.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. It appears we've been playing you the bee side."

A man walked into a bar with his dog and ordered a few drinks. At the end of the night, when he got the tab, he was astounded at the $50 check. He calls the bar tender over hoping to strike a deal. “Bartender, I only have 20 bucks I can’t pay for this drink. Let’s make a deal, if my dog can talk then you’ll let me have my drinks for free.” The bartender states, “there is no way that damn dog can talk! Pay me the money!” The man in response states, “No no sir, watch. Spots, what kind of situation are you in when you didn’t study for a test?” The dog, “Ruff!” The man carries on the bit, “See bar tender my dog can talk! You’re in a rough situation when you don’t study!” The bartender, “Now boy don’t play with me now, just pay your tab, that dog can’t talk!” “Well here, I’ll prove it to you. Spots, what texture is sandpaper?” “Ruff!” The bartender reaches hand over the counter, almost touching the man, “I won’t ask again sir.” “I have one more, just watch. Spots, who is the best baseball player?” “Ruff!” The bartender, done being fooled with, throws the man in his dog out of the bar, taking all his money. He looks at his dog sadly, “sorry spots, I guess he doesn’t believe you can talk...” The dog looks up, confused, “maybe I should’ve said DiMaggio.”

I am asking two of my girlfriends to be my bridesmaids and wanted to word the question in a punny way related to their careers- one is a first-year medical resident and the other is a law student. I would like to flatter them/make it funny. Any and all ideas are appreciated!! If there is a better sub to ask this question please let me know:))

A length of freeway walked into a bar, and yelled out "I'm the meanest bit of road west of the Pesos, nobody wanna mess with me!"

Then some duplicated overpass walked into the bar. "Anybody think they're tough enough to take on this piece of transit infrastructure? Well, are ya?"

Finally a stretch of dual carriageway walked into the bar. "This bad boy is badder than all you weaklings, whaddya gonna do about it!"

As they were all glaring at each other in a Mexican standoff, some bicycle laneway walked into the bar, threw a chair out of the way and kicked over a table. "I'm the roughest, toughest, meanest, baddest piece of asphalt there is! You're all soft snowflakes! Ain't anyone who has the guts to take me on!"

The first three roadways all immediately turned to the bar and started meekly sipping their drinks, trying to look inconspicuous. The bartender asked them "What's the matter, are you going to let him get away with that? Why don't you stand up to him?"

"We aren't going to mess with him", they replied, "He's a real cycle path".

In Las Vegas there are more Catholic churches than casinos? Not surprisingly, many Sunday worshippers will give casino chips instead of cash when the offering plate is passed around. Since the churches get chips from so many different casinos, they have devised a way to collect the offerings. They send all their collected chips to a nearby Franciscan monastery for sorting, and then the chips are taken to the casinos of origin and cashed in. This is done by the chip monks.

When I walked in the place was great, everything was perfect apart from the kitchen. There were gas mains but no cooker! Work surfaces and water pipes, but no sink; empty plugs and spaces for where the fridge and freezer should sit.

When I bought the house I was told it was fully furnished! Furious, I called up intending to give whomever answered an earful.

I was told that everything should be arriving individually, and the house is being used as an experiment for completely autonomous, self thinking kitchen appliances!

Before I could reply there was a knock on the door. I opened it and a stove strolled in, tilted forward in a bow, slid past me and set itself into its spot! Even attaching itself to the gas mains!

Later that day another knock at the door signalled the arrival of the fridge and freezer.(who had travelled together) They bowed and sat themselves perfectly in place in my new kitchen. I was beaming!

That evening I was explaining to my wife how the appliances had arrived, when came another knock at the door. “This technology is going to change the world, I swear it!” I told her. “Can you answer the door? I’ve been on my feet all day”

“Yeah,” she replied, less enthusiastic than I,“but it’ll get to a point when humans are completely inferior.” She explained “When these machines develop such sentience, what’s stopping them from overthrowing us?” “Treating us as slaves, like we to them now?” She asked, distraught at theses ideas.

Knock knock

“It’s best not to worry about these things,” I said in an attempt to alleviate her fears.

“There are people- professionals developing contingencies for any possible future robot uprising!” “That future you’re frightened about is purely science fiction right now, and the way our collective knowledge and application of technology has advanced, (Even in the past 50 years!) our own scientists and engineers will be able to crush any worries we may have when the time comes.” I explained.

She sighed, agreeing somewhat reluctantly. “Don’t think on it now, have some faith!” I told her.

Knock knock

“Now let that sink in!”

but there are already nuance on the way.

Lena could not leave them on the side of the road so they scooped the babies up and put them in the car. As they drove the baby skunks managed to make their way from the floor up Lena's dress and settled on her lap. Lena looked at Ole and said "the skunks are under my dress". Ole said "Zat's OK dear zey are settled down". Lena said "Vhat about the smell?". Ole said, "Oh, don't worry dear they will get used to it!"

He found his way to the men's department where a young lady offered to help him. "Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"I don't speak Spanish, but we have some very nice suits over here," said the salesgirl. "No, no quiero trajes. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Well, these shirts are on sale this week," declared the salesgirl. "No, no quiero camisas. Quiero calcetines," repeated the man.

"I still don't know what you're trying to say. We have some fine pants on this rack," offered the salesgirl. "No, no quiero pantalones. Quiero calcetines," insisted the man.

"These sweaters are top quality," the salesgirl probed. "No, no quiero sueter. Quiero calcetines," said the man.

"Our undershirts are over here," fumbled the salesgirl, beginning to lose patience. "No, no quiero camisetas. Quiero calcetines," the man repeated.

As they passed the underwear counter, the man spotted a display of socks and happily grabbed a pair. Holding them up he proclaimed, "¡Eso sí que es!"

"Why didn't you just spell it in the first place?!" yelled the salesgirl.

Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. Every time he closes his eyes, he's sees Charlie hiding in the darkness of the forest. Not that you could ever see those bastards, mind you. They were fast and they knew their way around the jungle. He remembers the looks on the boy's faces when they walked into that village and... oh Jesus. He shouldn't think about that now. Sometimes he still hears Tex's slow southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes. He always had a pack of Luckys. But the boys are gone now... he knows that. It's--it's just that he forgets sometimes. And sometimes the way that seven looks at him... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. And he feels like he's back there... In the jungle... In the darkness.

Seven has a hook for a hand as well, which is very scary. Six is afraid of Seven because he is a damn psychopath.

I did some yardwork yesterday and after doing so I sat down and had a cold beer. The day was really quite beautiful, and the drink facilitated some deep thinking. My wife walked by and asked me what I was doing, and I said, "Nothing." The reason I said "nothing" instead of saying "just thinking" is because she then would have asked, "About what?" At that point I would have had to explain that men are deep thinkers about various topics, which would lead to other questions. Finally I pondered an age old question: Is giving birth more painful than getting kicked in the nuts? Women always maintain that giving birth is way more painful than a guy getting kicked in the nuts, but how could they know? Well, after another beer, and some more heavy deductive thinking, I have come up with an answer to that question. Getting kicked in the nuts is more painful than having a baby, and even though I obviously couldn't really know, here is the reason for my conclusion: A year or so after giving birth, a woman will often say, "It might be nice to have another child." But you never hear a guy say, "You know, I think I would like another kick in the nuts." I rest my case. Time for another beer.

They get into a huge fight about the best way to start the camp fire.

The two sit in silence for a few moments, cold and frustrated

The dad promptly reaches into his backpack, grabs a pair of scissors and tears into the wall of their canvas shelter.

The son yells, "What the heck are you doing, you maniac?!!?!?"

The dad turns to him, looks him dead in the eyes, and says, "Just trying to cut the tent-son."

There are thousands of snowflakes gathering in DC, crying because they lost the election and they can't con their way to victory.

What a breadful night...

Is she the dad now? Are we both? Either way i sense more socks with Crocs in my future.

There was, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.

“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”

“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.

“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”

“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”

His students registered dismay and anguish.

“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.

“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.

“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”

Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi

This isn't a dad joke. This is a thank you to everyone on this subreddit. 6 weeks ago the love of my life broke things off with me due to factors attributed to my mental health (which i didn't tell her about because she is struggling with uni and i didn't want her to worry) and I've been having an extremely difficult time coming to terms with it. She's falling for another guy while I've been self destructing to the point where she never wants to talk to me again. But i found this subreddit today, the jokes are so stupid and funny that for the first time since before the breakup, I've laughed and it was genuine. Thank you so much for your stupid jokes. You've saved my life as far as I'm concerned. I still have a long way to to, but this subreddit is definitely going to get me through it. Thank you 💖

My dad worked in construction for most of his life, and because he worked with his hands, he sacrificed many watches. But if you don't have a watch, how are you to tell time? My dad has a great sense of humor and is always thinking of new ways to do things to make them more practical or thinking of ways to change things to make them work better for him. So after spending way too much money on a heavy duty watch that inevitably broke on him, he came up with a better solution.

He used the working part of a clock and stuck it on the inside rim of his hat, so if he wanted to know what the time was, he just had to look up. Simple. And the way his hat was, you couldn't see the clock when looking at him unless you were underneath him and looking up.

And then came the funny part. Every time he was asked what time it was, he would look up at the sun, scan the horizon, pretend to do a math equation in his head, and tell them the exact time down to the minute. I've witnessed him doing this a few times but never gave it away. The look of surprise and confusion this gave people was priceless.

My dad had done other funny things like this, but this was by far the funniest.

The teacher asks the class, “ there are five birds on a power line, and you shoot two of them, how many are left?”

Johnny replies, “ none the rest flew away when they heard the shot.”

The teacher says, “ no three are left but I like the way you think.”

So then Johnny says, “ let me ask you a question. There are three women eating ice cream, one licking it, one sucking it, and one biting it, which ones married?”

The teacher says, “ the one sucking?”

Johnny says, “ no the one with the wedding ring but I like the way you think.”

She said “what are you doing? What is that noise?” I said “I’ve been screwing around behind your back.” She whipped around in shock and saw me, screwdriver in hand, screwing in the outlet cover.

I found it way more entertaining then she did.

The poster reads:

"Must be able to type. Must be able to program. And must be bilingual. We are an equal opportunity employer."

The dog takes the poster in his mouth, and walks in. The manager spots the dog, and decides to humour it, pulling up a chair and a computer with a word processor. "Alright, if you want to work here, you need to first write a letter," and leaves the room.

30 minutes later, he comes back in, and the dog has typed out a completely error-free letter.

"Well, I'll be. This is a smart dog. But can he program?" he asks himself.

20 minutes pass, and the dog has made a perfectly running website for the store.

He looks, shocked, at the dog, and finally speaks. "Look, I know you have the qualifications, but, well... you're a dog."

The dog nudges the words "We are an equal opportunity employer." on the poster, and the manager sighs.

"There's no way you're bilingual."

The dog looks him in the eyes, and says, "Meow."

"Hey, barkeep!" he says, struggling to keep control of his quarry. "Any room for me and my friends?"

The bartender smiles and sets down some plastic cups. The man plops his friends inside, but the cups are too small.

"Um...barkeep?" the man says, pulling them out again. The bartender reaches for some larger mugs, but as he places them next to the cups, it becomes obvious that even these will be too small for the pigs.

Seeing the man struggle to continue holding them, the bartender runs to the kitchen for help.

A cook emerges, holding several large measuring cups. "Sorry, I just used these to make a batch of cheese dip, but they're all yours!"

The man carefully plops each pig into its respective gooey yellow cup.

Arms exhausted, breathing heavily, he drops into a stool at the end of the bar, between his tiny friends and a beautiful girl.

He glances her way, gasping coyly. "Hey...I'm...Tom."

She smiles, having watched the whole ordeal. "Hi Tom, I'm Liz. And if you don't mind me asking..." she laughs, looking over his shoulder, "what was that all about?"

He glances back at the bar. "Yeah...sorry," he pants. "I wanted...to impress you, but...it turned out to be...a pretty cheesy...pig-cup line."

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

Daughter: Dad, are you smart?

Me: Yes.

Daughter: Spell it.

Me: S-M-A-R-T

Daughter: You said you’re smart but you can’t even spell the word “it.”

She got me good.

—

Edit: My first front page post! I’d like to say thanks to all the wonderful people that upvoted this and made awesome comments. And screw you to the weirdos who went out or their way to say mean things. And thanks to my daughter. She is the real MVP in all this.

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."

1. Why was the fraction apprehensive about marrying the decimal? Because he would have to convert.

2. Why do plants hate math? It gives them square roots.

3. Why did the student get upset when his teacher called him average? It was a mean thing to say!

4. Why was the math book depressed? It had a lot of problems.

5. Why is the obtuse triangle always so frustrated? Because it is never right.

6. Why can you never trust a math teacher holding graphing paper? He must be plotting something.

7. Why was the equal sign so humble? Because she knew she wasn’t greater than or less than anyone else.

8. What do you call the number 7 and the number 3 when they go out on a date? The odd couple

9. What do you call a number that can’t stay in one place? A Roamin’ numeral.

10. Did you hear the one about the statistician? Probably.

11. What do you call dudes who love math? Algebros.

12. I’ll do algebra, I’ll do trig. I’ll even do statistics. But graphing is where I draw the line!

13. Why should you never talk to Pi? Because she’ll go on and on and on forever.

14. Why are parallel lines so tragic if they have so much in common? It’s a shame they’ll never meet.

15. Are monsters good at math? Not unless you Count Dracula.

16. What’s the best way to flirt with a math teacher? Use acute angle.

17. Did you hear about the mathematician who is afraid of negative numbers? They’d stop at nothing to avoid them.

18. How do you stay warm in any room? Just huddle in the corner, where it’s always 90 degrees.

19. Why is six afraid of seven? Because seven eight ("ate") nine!

20. Why DID seven eat nine? Because you’re supposed to eat 3 squared meals a day!

21. Why does nobody talk to circles? Because there is no point.

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

Scene- Me, at dentist, having teeth removed. She was having a bit of trouble with some of them and this was while she had instruments in my mouth. There's some pain after maximum amount of anesthetic she can give me. Asks me how I'm doing.

Me- There is some pain in the teeth after numbing but it isn't anything I can handle.

Dentist- Last time you were here we didn't have a problem but this time your teeth are being a major pain in the butt.

Me- My teeth are a pain in the butt? No wonder people say I talk out of my ass way too much.

She had to stop for a bit to finish laughing.

Her: "Buffalo meat is delicious. What are they made of? Beef?"

Me: "No... They're made of buff."

She didn't talk to me the whole way home.

They have to yell “Donald, Duck!”

Edit: whoever gave me the gold award, thank you so much. I would repay you in a way, but I don’t know who you are.

On the way, after passing a graveyard, my dad asked,

“Did you know that’s a popular cemetery?”

“No, why?” I responded.

“People are just dying to get in there!” he replied.

After I groaned, he continued, in all seriousness,

“But really, did you know I can’t be buried there?”

“Why not, Dad?” I asked, surprised.

“Because I’m not dead yet!”

But I think they are on the way out.

So if thats true then depending on where you are you would be of an average race, have average hair, etc.

And going down from that, alot of people have the same name, making certain names normal or "average".

What im saying is, thats a really complicated way to find the average Joe.

A hearse is driving up a very steep street and once it gets near the top, the back door opens up and the coffin comes shooting out of the hearse and rolls down the street.

People are diving out of the way, cars are swerving, it’s chaos! By the time it reaches the bottom of the hill it has picked up a lot of speed and crashes into a wall surrounded by people.

The door pops open, the body sits up and says “Do you have anything to stop this coughin?”

In my opinion we should beat the shit out of constipated people because:

1. Laxatives are an unhealthy way of dealing with feces. On the other hand, beating the shit out of someone is a good way to practice sports activities like, running, grip strength, punching techniques etc.

2. Other methods of dealing with feces take alot of money. Laxatives aren't cheap in our flawed healthcare system! On the other hand, there are people that are willing to pay you to beat the shit out of you. By using this method you can become richer and deal with your shitty problems.

3. Constipation requires being in the bathroom for a long time. This can be very lonely for the people involved. However, beating the shit out of others can be done in any place. Your home, the local park, or even the shady street corner! Not only that it's a very social activity, requiring a minimum of at least 2 people, but usually done in groups of 2-5 people.

Although some people might say, that beating the shit out of each other is violent, most of them have never been to a public toilet and hence are unable to realize how much more painful and violent the alternative is.

In summery, beating the shit out of people is a good, legitimate, and affordable alternative to laxatives and is a better, more progressive way, to deal with constipation.

[and posted a picture of him and his bike on a rest day.] (https://i.imgur.com/IapqomG.png)

Edit: Whoa this is getting popular. I live on the other side of the world, and am about to go to bed, but I am just going to put his [donation page] (http://ccf.convio.net/site/TR?px=3433802&fr_id=1580&pg=personal) at the top of the post if anyone is interested. It is no big deal, but if someone is looking, I thought I'd put it at the top. Either way, you all are going to make his day when I show him how many people appreciated his joke. I just hope this doesn't mean that I have to laugh at all of them from now on...

When he got to old man Johnson’s house the old man said “My yard doesn’t need any work, but my porch is in need of a coat of paint. I’ll pay you 50 bucks, and if you finish by sundown I’ll throw in a 50 dollar bonus”.

With a confused look on his face little Johnny accepted the offer and got to work.

Less than an hour later little Johnny knocked on old man Johnson’s door to collect his hundred dollars.

“All finished, that’ll be one hundred dollars”!

Noticing there wasn’t a single drop of paint on the porch the old man started quizzing little Johnnys integrity.

“Now little Johnny, are you absolutely positively one hundred percent sure you finished painting my porch”?

“I sure am! Oh and by the way that’s not a porch, it’s a Ferrari”!

A guy was cutting with an acetylene torch when suddenly there is a break in the line. The acetelyne starts shooting up his arm and a stray spark ignites it. His arm bursts into flame. He starts running around the shop waving his arm around while it's on fire until someone hits him with the fire extinguisher.

After the fire is out and the EMT's arrive, the police are there taking statements from the witnesses. When the officer finishes this, he pulls out his handcuffs, goes over to the burned guy on the ground, pushes the EMT out of the way, and arrests the burned guy.

When he brings the guy to the station, the chief asks him why he arrested this guy when he clearly needs medical attention. The officer responded by saying "He was waving a firearm in public"

The work of Steven Wright, he's the famous Erudite (comic) scientist who once said: "I woke up one morning, and all of my stuff had been stolen and replaced by exact duplicates."

1   - I'd kill for a Nobel Peace Prize.

2   - Borrow money from pessimists -- they don't expect it back.

3   - Half the people you know are below average.

4   - 99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

6   - A conscience is what hurts when all your other parts feel so good.

7   - A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

8   - If you want the rainbow, you have got to put up with the rain.

9   - All those who believe in psychokinesis, raise my hand.

10 - The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

11 - I almost had a psychic girlfriend, ...... But she left me before we met.

12 - OK, so what's the speed of dark?

13 - How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?

14 - If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.

15 - Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

16 - When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

17 - Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

18 - Hard work pays off in the future; laziness pays off now.

19 - I intend to live forever... So far, so good.

21 - Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

22 - What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

23 - My mechanic told me, "I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder."

24 - Why do psychics have to ask you for your name.

25 - If at first, you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried.

26 - A conclusion is a place where you got tired of thinking.

27 - Experience is something you don't get until just after you need it.

28 - The hardness of the butter is proportional to the softness of the bread.

29 - To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.

30 - The problem with the gene pool is that there is no lifeguard.

31 - The sooner you fall behind, the more time you'll have to catch up.

32 - The colder the x-ray table, the more of your body is required to be on it.

33 - Everyone has a photographic memory; some just don't have film.

34 - If at first, you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

35 - If your car could travel at the speed of light, would your headlights work?

The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.

Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.

Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.

And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.

The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.

The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.

The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.

"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.

"Why not?"

"He's a cycle path".

I am requesting the shittiest, most terrible, most horrible dad level puns you can throw my way. Puns that would make others projectile vomit with their horribleness. Puns so aweful and sad, that it'd make me want to hug you and ask you....are you okay?

so send them my way. or there will be a severe....PUNishment...

But I think they are on the way out.