Time Related Puns

But I suppose I shouldn't have called all my lemmings Cliff

Why don't they ever come to my birthday parties?

Because time was relative

I don’t remember anyone in my family named time

then why doesn’t it send me post cards

So my dad's telling my relatives the story of how my mom was in labor for 12 hours so they named me 'Laura' which if you say it in Vietnamese accent it's 'Lau-ra' which means "Long time to come out"...

IMAGINE FINDING OUT AFTER 21 YEARS YOUR NAME IS A FUCKING PUN ..

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

Hi everyone.

I don't know if this is allowed but I'm running out of ideas. I'm trying to make puns dealing with candies relating to the words "Leadership", "Service", and either "Fellowship" or "friendship". I figured this is the place of experts and hoped you could provide me with a solution. I'm planning on using this for big little reveal in my fraternity.

Thanks again ahead of time!

I know this might not be the place to post a question but I was wondering if any of you punny peeps can help me out? I got some free stamps and I want to mail a few potatoes out to my relatives. I know this is pretty stupid and a waste of time but I'm laughing at myself just thinking what their reactions and responses will be when they check their mailbox and see a potato. I want to write a potato pun somewhere on the potato. So of you're willing to help me do this; please leave me your potato puns for me to read and decide which ones I'll be using. Thank you for reading.

Dad: Do you know why I don't drink tea?

Me: Why?

Dad: Because the prices are too steep.

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

I hadn't put my own picture up on my dating profile, just a picture of my pickup. But that's okay, because she'd just put a picture of her dog. I sent her a message, something almost-clever like "your dog can ride in my pickup any time," and she responded.

We clicked pretty quickly, and started chatting regularly. Every day, sometimes throughout the day. Slowly we learned more about each other. Her dog's name was Daisy. My truck's name was Dodge Ram (I apologized for my lack of creativity). She was a CPA. I was a beekeeper.

And at this, she stumbled. "If we ever meet in real-life, I want you to know that I could never date a beekeeper." But we were still far away from that point, so it was moot.

But time went on, and we gradually became closer to that point. More personal information. What firm she worked for. Where my farm was. Names of relatives. Names of high schools. All the things that just come up in conversation eventually if you talk to someone long enough.

But, oddly, after all this time, neither of us had thought to send any pictures. Until one day I got a message from her: "I never thought I'd say this, but I really do want to meet you in person. I think we have a rare connection, and I don't want to squander it. I want to send you my picture, and I want you to send me yours, but I'm telling you, I can never date a beekeeper."

I couldn't imagine a life without my bees. But I also couldn't imagine a life without her. Tentatively, reluctantly, I clicked on the image attached to her message.

Then I saw her face. Now I'm a bee leaver.

My first name will be Justin. My last name will be Time.

My wife will be Niko. My daughter will be Bedora, shortened to Bed. That it will always be Bed Time. And then I will go to my wife, coming in the Niko Time. And I will always arrive at events Justin Time. Then, after my family grows, I will have an advanced degree and shock the world by proving that Time is, in fact, relative. Because they are MY relatives.

Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.

To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.

I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.

Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.

You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.

The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.

The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.

Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.

Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.

But so far, I've quit cold turkey.

I mean, you just 'knead' to listen to the number of bread puns I have, its the 'yeast' you could do. I can't 'wheat' to share them. If not, then 'rye' bother? All this time would have been 'spelt' for nothing. I 'batter' stop now. What, you thought 'oil' my puns were bread related? I'm afraid to say that's not 'white', but there's no need to be 'sourdough'.

Dad: Don't use it all!

First post, long time lurker. I've never heard this one before and had to share with you guys! Any other bathroom related dad jokes?

So today in anthro we were discussing what methods are used in dating fossils and fossil sites. We started talking about using rock layers to date and he said "this reminds me of one of the colleagues I had. He was pretty young and when ever we had our get togethers he would bring this beautiful woman, different every time, that always turned out to be his cousin. Anyways this method is an example of relative dating."

There were a couple laughs and one audible groan.

r/puns I am calling on you in time of great need! My friend is going off to a hospital to do some work experience for 2 weeks and he needs all the hospital/medical puns that r/puns can muster!

Any and all suggestions relating to hospitals would be greatly appreciated.

I'm relatively tall and growing up, my dad would occasionally ask me, "How tall are you now?" I, forgetting the repeated joke, would reply, "I'm 6'2" now." Every single time he would reply, "I didn't know they stacked shit that high," and laugh his ass off.

He wanted to see relative time - Mork and Mindy

She's related to me, my wife, and her 2 sisters.

Anyway the joke I made tonight-

My in-laws had to the 2 older girls while we were at the hospital, and got home tonight. I looked down and realized I had a hole in one of my socks, and said "guess it's time to throw this one away."

My father in law said, "yeah. I've been getting holes in my socks and have been throwing them away, too."

I said, "Left and right?"

[Sorry for the wall of text, I just wanted to share this with you]

Ok, so technically this was before I knew I was a dad at the time, and it happened a long time ago, so I'm paraphrasing it a bit (have to leave out some details. It's work related lol), but I'm really proud of it.

I was having this workplace dispute with this really snively guy who was being a bit of a prick about some work assignment he was really proud of. Long story short, he was worried about someone else taking credit for something and wanted me to talk to our boss about it for him (What does he think I am lol). Anyway, as I'm walking away I hear him coughing. So I turn around, and with this great big smile on my face, I'm like:

"Don't choke on your aspirations, mate."

Anyway, I thought it was a great line. I was smiling all the way back to my office. I don't know why it came to my mind at that moment, but it wasn't long before I'd meet my kids for the first time in years, and it was really great to reconnect with them.

Anyway, my kids are pretty popular (my son's a school teacher, so I don't want to embarrass him in front of the kids), and my daughter would be mortified to hear a dadjoke this terrible great so I'd appreciate if you didn't mention any details about me in the comments (might spoil their evening lol) it was just a nice little moment.

Anyway, just wanted to share the moment with you guys.

D. [To the mods, I know this is a kind of just a pun, but I thought it was worth posting here. I hope you guys understand.]

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

New Year's Day... The start of a fresh 365 sunrises that symbolize a turning point in lifestyle and spending the entire day recovering from a dreadful hangover. Like many other people in America, this relatively fake holiday is a time that I spend with my family. One of my family's many traditions (alongside annihilating plates of buffalo wings and watching college football until we pass out on the couch) is watching the Rose Parade. At the very beginning of the event, before all of the flower-covered floats and high school bands came marching down the street, there was an introductory ceremony complete with a B-2 stealth bomber flyover. As soon as they passed by, zooming out of the camera's frame, my dad leans in closer to me and says "Well I sure didn't see that coming!"

At a wedding reception where the chocolates on the table were in nice looking package.

• Dad: Don't throw that way; I'll take them home.
• Mom: Great another of one thousand useless items that'll be on a shelf.
• Dad: Aaaaw, Honey -- I'd never put you on the shelf.

While watching a baseball game:

• Mom: Are they "boo'ing?" Nobody "boos" anymore.
• Dad: Hey can I have a blow job?
• Mom: Shut up.
• Dad: Booooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

In regards to meatloaf my mother made:

• Mom: Sorry the meatloaf isn't that good.
• Dad: It's Ok. But next time try adding some Alpo.

While eating at relatives' house:

• Mom: Wow. This is really good! We used to eat like this all the time growing up.
• Uncle: Really? Where I come from we just call it Hamburger Helper.

In regards to an inappropriately shaped child's toy:

• Me: Did you buy that at one of those special stores you guys got in San Francisco?
• Grandfather: What?! Of course not! God no - that's not mine!
• ...
• Grandfather: It's too small...

When my brother and I were screwing around instead of helping in the garage:

• Dad: You know, twice, twice! I thought I got it out quick enough but some must have dribbled back inside.

After listening to a 3 minute voice mail from my mother:

• Me: What did she want?
• Dad: You want the long or the short version?
• Me: Short.
• Dad: Nothing.
• Me: Ok long version.
• Dad: Nothing much.

First off, I'm new here. I've only been a dad for a few years but, I'm not sure i'll ever be able to top this and the circumstances of the set up were so chance and specific, I will never be able to use this again. This is what inspired me to seek you out and tell my story.

So, like most thanksgivings, we went to a relatives house and had very large but unusually early dinner. We went home and by nine or ten o'clock we had the little one off to sleep and my wife and I were getting hungry and wanted something simple. She asked for fast food and I was willing to oblige.

I drove to Taco Bell and it was closed. I called my wife, "sorry Taco Bell is closed. What do you want from BK?". I then drove to BK and discovered it was also closed. Called the wife "Sorry honey, BK is closed. What do you want from McDonald's?". You might see were this is going and, if you haven't already guessed it, Micky D's was closed too."Ok, I'm just going to the gas station. What do you want?" She asked for cheddar fries and I was willing to oblige. Got in side, no cheddar fries! I grab her funyuns. She like funyuns, it will be fine. As a joke (not the one we are leading up to) I called her on my way home and told her the gas station was closed too.

I got home, told her the truth about the gas station and gave her the back up back up back up back up back up plan bag of funyuns. She joked around about the number of times I had failed her in one outing (keep in mind, I had been giving her a hard time through this whole event) and then asked me for a soda from the fridge. So is This when the magic happened. I was opening the fridge when the gravity of the situation and what was at stake here suddenly struck me. I closed the fridge, got out a glass and filled it with water. I brought it back to her in the living room. She says "why did you bring me water?"

THE FRIDGE WAS CLOSED!

My dad and I were in the receiving line at the calling hours for a friend of mine. Grateful Dead and all things related, including LSD, were at the core of the friendship between my dad and my friend. As my dad reaches the last family member and attempts to kneel at his casket, his foot catches the upturned corner of the carpet. My dad whispers to me, "Trippin' with Jared one last time!"

My wife discovered a tick in our house - likely brought in by the dog after a hike with the family that day. At dinner, it prompted a discussion about the relative risk of Lyme disease and its recent increase in media coverage. My wife made the argument that, while incidents were up, the overall risk is really quite low when you look at actually numbers of incidents. As such, the media coverage is not warranted relative to other safety concerns. My rebuttal:

"Frankly, I think it's about time we had a tick talk"

We were visiting relatives in Canada last summer, including my Dad's brother (so, my Uncle) and his son Brandon. We were around the bonfire one night and Brandon was carving something for his girlfriend Emerald out of spare wood (it actually looked pretty cool). My Dad and Uncle saw the thing, it had a heart that said "B+E" in the middle. Uncle: "What's that supposed to mean, 'break and enter?'" Dad: "Probably 'Bert and Ernie'." Then they laughed like crazy. They joke around like that all the time when they get together, it's pretty hilarious.