Three Point Turn Puns

One evening, three strings are hanging out looking for something to do. They eventually decide to go to the local pub for a beer. Before walking in, one string says, “Wait a moment…I heard that they don’t serve strings here…we better find something else to do”.

“Nonsense!”, says the first string. “Just follow me.”

They walk in and approach the bar. The first string confidently says, “Good evening sir. May I please order three beers for me and my mates?”.

The bartender looks at them dubiously and asks, “Wait a second….aren’t you strings?”.

The strings nod and the bartender says, “We don’t serve your kind here…Get out!”.

The strings dejectedly walk back onto the street, and the second string says, “Hey I’ve got an idea. Follow me”.

They walk back up to the bar and the second string says, “Good evening sir. I’d like to order three beers, plus drinks on the house for everyone!”.

A small cheer goes up among the other bar patrons, and the bartender smiles and turns to fill the order, but then stops. “Wait a minute…aren’t you strings?”, he asks.

Again, they nod and the bartender says, “We don’t serve strings here….Get out, and don’t come back!”.

The strings slink back out once again. At this point, the third string says, “I’ve got it!”.

He flips upside down and rubs his head on the sidewalk until it’s sticking up all willy nilly, and ties himself into a knot. He then strides up to the bar and says, “Bartender! Get me a beer!”.

The bartender looks at him and asks, “Aren’t you a string?”.

The string then stares him straight in the eyes and says, “I’m a frayed knot”.

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

What tree do you wipe your hands on? A palm tree!

I heard a scary math joke, but I’m 2^^2 to tell it!

Have you heard of that new movie, “Constipation”? Well it doesn’t matter, it never came out.

I hurt myself when I went to a theme park in florida. When I went to the doctor, he started wrapping up my left leg, but then I pointed at my right and said “No, doc, it’s dis knee.”

Last night I got mugged by 6 dwarves. Not Happy.

When Queen Elizabeth farts, everyone in the room must pretend like nothing happened. Noble Gasses don’t cause reactions, after all.

What’s the difference between a seal and a sea lion? One electron.

What happens to nitrogen when the sun rises? It becomes Daytrogen!

I called the animal shelter today and said "I've found six kittens in a suitcase in the woods." They said "Are they moving?" I replied "I don't know, but that would explain the suitcase."

Why can’t you trust Atoms? Because they make up everything!

Why do nerds wear glasses? It helps with division.

Why should you tiptoe past the medicine cabinet? You don’t wanna wake the sleeping pills.

What twitches and is found at the bottom of the ocean? A nervous wreck!

What do you call a fat psychic? A four chin teller!

What do you call a 3 foot tall psychic on the run from the law? A small medium at large!

Help, I can’t stop reading books with female protagonists! I’m a heroine addict!

How did Sparticus react when he ate his wife for dinner? He was gladiator!

When does a joke become a dad joke? When the punchline becomes apparent!

19 and 20 got into a fight… 21.

My friend told me, “People who sell meat are disgusting!” So I said, “Yeah, well people who sell fruits and vegetables are grocer!”

How can turtles take photos of themselves? Shell-fie sticks!

What do you call a secret agent molecule? Bond… ionic bond. “Taken, not shared.” What did the dinosaur say to the other dinosaur? (Cut this part, but make a screeching noise)

How much does Santa’s sleigh cost? $0, it’s on the house.

If America switched from pounds to kilograms overnight there would be mass confusion.

I had a splinter once; it eventually got out of hand.

I’m going to go stand outside. If anyone asks, I’m outstanding.

Most people are shocked to find out how terrible an electrician I am!

What do mermaids wash their fins with? Tide What’s the coolest place to use the bathroom? The Lil Jon

Did you know that on average, people want three covers on their bed at all times? But that’s just a blanket statem

I was playing FFXIV with my husband and one of our friends. We had all been drinking (me more than them).The three of us were all in our living room, and as we approach the final boss area in one of the dungeons we hadn't done before, this rears up out of the water and I shriek, "HEY GUYS! WHAT'S KRAKEN???!!!"

Our friend turned around in his seat with the most disgusted expression on his face, pointed at me, and said, "Get out."

I started giggling so hard I nearly fell off the couch, and sputtered: "Sorry. I'll quit kraken stupid jokes."

Ha. Yayyyy puns. :3

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

I'm not usually one for bars, but since the smoking ban in Illinois, they're not so bad. I'm not much of a drinker either, but this one place in particular offers free soft drinks for designated drivers of groups of three or more. You have to get them from a location separate from the bartender. You declare yourself upon entering the place, then your hand is marked, and from that point, you're not allowed alcohol, but you get the free soft drinks.

Their specialty is their own brand of a mixed fruit drink that's really good. It's popular enough that you're usually standing behind six or seven people to wait your turn. So, Saturday night, while I'm waiting for mine, this cute blonde walks up behind me. I figured I'd try to be witty and asked her, "Can I buy you a drink?"

She scowled at me with, "Well aren't you the funny one?"

"What's with the attitude?" I asked her.

"Sorry," she said. "It's them." And she thumbed toward a table with (would you believe it?) a brunette and a redhead.

"Why?" I asked. "What'd they do?"

"I'm just getting sick of it," she said. "Every time we come here, it's always me in the punch line."

And on the way back, my son and I tortillaed through three bags of family size Doritos.

We would have pointed fingers at one another, but they were already in our mouths. Sucky situation, I know.

I turned the car around and said, "Son, now our mission is snackfued."

Salty from our spell of bad luck, we licked our lips and hightailed it back to Walgreens. I sent a MSG to my wife to tell her about the crunch we were in.

Many of our guests had already arrived when we finally returned, holding up our carb-earned trophies.

It was then that my son's friend complimented our modest country estate: "Cool Ranch!"

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

My band had a performance yesterday. We have three saxophone players. One of plays only Alto saxophone, one of them alternates between playing Alto, Tenor and Baritone saxophone and the last plays both Tenor and Baritone saxophone.

The second two kept swapping each other's instruments or one of the other saxophones they had in the background. So at one point we had to wait for them to change while the rest of us were all ready to start playing the next song.

So, trying to make it less awkward for the audience I turn to them and I says 'I'm sorry, they're just playing ... Musical Instruments'

There was a collective groan/laugh from the audience and the drummer went ba-dum-tish And the trumpeter gave me a little wah wah wah waaaaaaaaaaaah

I'm still giggling about it.

First time at a Warhammer 40k store. I'm familiar with the game but have never played. Display window has a seven foot marine figure that is painted and badass. As I walk in,

"Whoa! How many points to play him?!?"

Me pointing at marine. Three nerds playing magic stop to look at me. Store employee looks up without moving his head. Two other store patrons turn to look at me.

Crickets.