Thought Blocking Puns

“That’s not very mature!”

That ship has sailed.

Walking with my wife and 2 year old last night when my wife mentioned there was an open house a few blocks away. She asked if "you want to go and be snoopy." I responded "what do you want me to do, dance on a piano?" that's when she hit me.

update: 1583 upvotes? Holy crap... never thought my idiocy would pay off! (in fake points)

Update #2: Holy crap... thank you whoever got me the gold!

He's doing a mission (I'm barley paying attention). I glance up and there's 2 cop cars trying to stop him. They get on either side of him and pinch him to a stop.

Son: Dang. The cops got me.

Me: What happened? Did they cop block you? (still chuckling to myself)

BTW, He's only 7 years old. He has no idea why I thought it was funny. My wife gave me the look of disapproval, so success was had.

Edit: I just want to let everyone know that I didn't notice my barely/barley mistake until after the hop joke below. Thanks.

Three college students (Jim, Tom, and Steve) decided to stay overnight in an abandoned house that was supposedly haunted, all to prove that there was nothing supernatural there. They decided to sleep in separate rooms to increase chances of scary things happening. Each room was connected to one long hallway which lead to some stairs. After a while, the three called it a night and went to their separate rooms.

At midnight, Jim woke up to the sound of a scream coming from one of the rooms. He ran out into the hall where he met Steve, who also had just woken up. They walked into Tom’s room, and he was nowhere to be found. “Surely this must be a prank” thought Jim, and he and Steve decided to go back to bed. He slept for almost an hour when Jim woke up to another scream coming from a different room. He ran into the hall, and this time Steve did not join him. He walked into Steve’s room, and noticed that Steve had completely vanished. Still in the mindset that this was a prank by his two friends two, Jim went back to bed.

An hour later, Jim woke up to the sound of thumping in the hallway. He went out of his room and saw a giant coffin with chainsaws attached to where arms would be. The coffin was also blocking the exit, meaning that the only way to go was the stairs! Jim immediately ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, then heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started running again! He ran into another set of stairs going up, so he ran up them as fast as he could. He stopped to catch his breath, when once again, he heard the thumping of something coming up the stairs, so he started to run. Eventually, he reached a dead end in a bathroom. He turned around to see the coffin at the doorway. Frantically, Jim scavenged the cabinets for anything he could use to fight it. All he could find was some cough drops. Using all the strength he had, he threw the cough drops at the coffin. Upon impact, the coffin suddenly started to dissolve! Before long nothing remained of it. Jim was astonished! The cough drops had stopped his coffin.

I recently tore all the ligaments in my ankle and I’m still in rehab. I was on the sidewalk concentrating on my crutches when a construction worker popped up in front of me. Initially I thought he was going to tell me I was walking under something dangerous; halfway through I thought he was going to ask me out; then Jesus happened:

“Hey, that looks like it hurts!”

“Naw, it’s not bad, it’s much better now.”

“Running? Skiing? How’d you do it?”

“Rock climbing.”

“Rock climbing! Wow, so you must be strong, eh?”

“Yeah, I’m ripped.”

“ … ripped? Really?”

“Yeah, I’m super ripped.”

“ … oh. Wow. Not joking.”

“Yeah, I’m joking. I’m not actually ripped.”

“ … ahaha … hah. That was good.”

“Yep.”

“So, I’m Christian.”

“Hi, Christian.”

“... and I don’t know if you’ve read the Bible, but the Bible says that laying on of hands, especially for our fellow Christians, will heal. And I’ve …” etc.

It took me a block to realize that I’d accidentally made a Dad joke.

While reading an article about fathers and sons drinking together, I remembered the time I took my daughter out for her first drink. Off we went to our local bar only two blocks from the house. I got her a Guinness. She didn't like it, so I drank it. Then I got her a Killian's she didn't like that either, so I drank it. Finally, I thought she might like some Harp Lager? She didn't. I drank it. I thought maybe she'd like whiskey better than beer so we tried a Jameson's; nope! In desperation, I had her try that 25 year old Glenfiddich. The bar's finest scotch. She wouldn't even smell it. What could I do but drink it! By the time I realized she just didn't like to drink, I was so shit-faced I could hardly push her stroller back home!!!
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[edited for spelling. sorry to offend.]

We started block scheduling today at school, and my friend has a teacher named Song. She said to me, "Ugh, I have two hours of Song."

I thought to myself, damn that's a long song.

There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He

This was one of her favorite jokes she loved to tell: One day, a man was walking home after a long day at work. As he waited for a crosswalk signal, he glanced back and noticed a coffin standing down the block. "Odd," he thought, but he ignored it and continued home. He turned the corner and managed to catch a glimpse of the coffin again. This time is was closer to him... like it was following him. He picked up his pace and ran into his apartment complex. The coffin was right behind him. In a fright, he dashed up the stairs to his place, locked the door and barricaded himself in the bathroom. Thud, thud, thud! The coffin was banging on the bathroom door. The man frantically looked for something to defend himself. Just as the coffin busted through the door, the man grabbed some cough syrup from the medicine cabinet, threw it at the coffin ... and the coffin stopped.

My dad told me this the first time on Halloween night back when I was 9. He tells it to this day to any of my cousins, nephews, or any kids that happen to linger too long at the house when he's giving out candy. It's a long one but I have always enjoyed it.

Back when I was about your age, I went on a Halloween adventure. There was an old abandoned house on our street where a series of grisly axe murders had taken place years before. The house had never sold and was left vacant and was left to fall apart. There was a local legend that if you went into the house on Halloween night, you'd be confronted by the ghost of the murderer himself, still looking for more victims to add to his terrifying story.

My friend Tom and I decided to go through with it one year. Knowing everyone would be too terrified to go into the house, we snuck in easily on Halloween night. The place was falling apart inside, the carpet was wet and moldy and the wallpaper was peeling off everywhere. We headed down carefully to the basement down a set of creaky stairs.

At first we found nothing. Just an empty creepy old house. Suddenly we felt as if we were being watched. I was looking through one of the rooms in the large basement when I suddenly heard Tom shriek. I spun around and turned my flashlight and Tom was being chased by something, no someone. It looked like it was the murderer! A crazed man with an axe!

We turned and tried to run anywhere. We were in the basement but couldn't get up the stairs because we were blocked. We ran into the side room which looked like it might have been the laundry years ago. We locked the door and looked for a way out. The only thing we could find was a small window that opened onto ground level. As I climbed out I heard a pounding on the door. I managed to wriggle my way through the window and turned around to help my friend Tom. Panicking, he managed to get his top half through the window when I noticed the pounding stop.

Tom was stuck! I kept trying to pull him up but I couldn't. I pulled as hard as I could as Tom panicked and thrashed even more. I thought something had him caught, but it was even worse. The murderer had gotten behind him and was holding him back! He was too strong for me to overcome and he was pulling Tom's leg!

Just like I've been pulling yours this whole time.