To Be Continued... Puns

I'm a son without a father... I lost him a few days ago to a heart attack and I just... can't stop crying

We both used to check out this sub daily for amazing dad jokes and laugh at them together... We'd try to form our own stupid stuff

I used to wake up for college early in the morning I'd cook some breakfast for him get ready and before leaving I'd wake him up and tell him a stupid dad joke... I'd want to see him start his day with a smile

I just want to thank you all in this sub for giving me and my dad happiness your jokes made us laugh at our worst times

Out of habit I keep getting up to go to his room with a dad joke... Only to see it empty

I'm never gonna get to mess around with my dad again... I'm never going to hang out with him again he's not going to be there to see me grow up and buy a house of my own ... He's not going to see me buy a car of own ... He's not going to see me get married... He's gone forever and I will never get to start my day with a smile again from a silly dad joke with him

He wasn't the greatest dad but he certainly was the best I could ever ask for ... I will miss you dad

Thank you r/dadjokes to all the amazing dads here and their funny and stupid jokes

Edit : thank you so much dad's for your overwhelming support I love you guys and I just want to take a moment to thank all the people here who shared their experiences as well of having lost a parent... Your story inspires me to continue forward with the torch

Also I'm seeing quite a few comments saying the post is not funny and that they came for a laugh... I'm truly sorry about that, I just really wanted to honor my dad in this sub since we spent so much time together here scrolling for jokes and I needed the push from you dads to get back on my feet

I'm never going to be the same that's for sure knowing a peice of me has been lost forever... The void will never be filled in my heart But your support is just what I needed, once again thank you dads I love you

Edit 2: thank you so much dads for your overwhelming support I know I haven't been able to respond to all the dms and messages here but I've been reading them all and it's just made me smile in the worst Thank you dads you guys are the best

"Nope, they were cooked in Greece!"

Though I guess that's just a generalization.

first im not sure where to post this story but this is true and ive been cracking up ever since my daughter told me that happened.

So my daughter is 23 now. When she was 18 & im dropping her off at college, i told her that "anytime a guy approachs you and youre not in the mood to be hit on just tell the guy you have herpes or whatever and hopefully he'll stop & go away, if he doesnt...then, well ya know...you leave as safely as u can." i thought it was harmless kinda funny advice. So last night, when she's picking up her dog (cause i said id puppysit while she went to the football game), I said something to the effect of the dog needing a slow feed bowl and she rolled her eyes and told me shes not taking advice from me after the "herpe talk". i said "what? what herpe talk?" and she reminded me of that advice i offered when she was an 18 year old college freshmen and then told me thats why she doesnt have a bf. i chuckled and started asking, "have u ever said that? what happened? how many times have you told a guy that?" she continued to tell me that she went to a few frat/soriety get togethers with her girlfriends and maybe used that line 6-7 times. i lost it laughing and said "you know those 6-7 guys told at least 3-4 people each and so on." she goes "No shit Dad. because of you i cant find a date cause everyone thinks i have herpes." anyways, i thought this was too funny to not share, plus it worked cause i get to puppysit versus grandbabysit.

After extensive testing the doctor informed him he was suffering with a brain cloud, which would be fatal if not treated, and would require a brain transplant. The doctor opened his cabinets to display the brains he had on hand and started explaining the pricing. We have here Doctors brains for $10,000 an ounce, lawyers brains for $15,000 an ounce... The patient continued scanning his options until he came to redditors brains, $10,000,000 per ounce. The patient inquired, "I don't think I've lost my mind yet, but why are redditors brains worth so much more than Doctors or Lawyers brains?"

The doctor replied, "Do you have any idea how many redditors it takes to get an ounce of brain?"

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

A monk was tending a garden when he noticed a dove and a raven squabbling in a tree. He turned to the birds and asked them, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”

Immediately the dove quited down and contemplated the question, ignoring the continued harassment of the raven.

Emboldened, the monk turned to the raven and told it, “Out of nowhere, the mind comes forth.” The raven notes this wisdom and was peaceful, but the dove did not hear his words and again rose a great ruckus.

The monk smiled ruefully. “Truly it may be said that you cannot still two birds with one kōan.”

We were watching a squirrel dig in our backyard. He proceeds to say “look at the squirrel ducking his head in an out again and again out of the grass, and if this continues, it won’t be long before it is goose-necked”

As one would expect, the conditions were atrocious. Thousands of flies buzzed them constantly. As one frog continuously lamented their predicament, the other was snapping up flies with a big grin on his face. This went on for months, until finally, the first frog snapped. "We've been in the God forsaken prison for months!! We have no idea when or if we're going to be released, and you sit there eating flies with that stupid smile on your face!!! WTF, dude??!".

The second frog looks at him and says......"well, times fun when you're having flies". (A play on "Time flies when you're having fun").

The full story:

“While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75 year old Texas rancher, whose hand was caught in a gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man.

Eventually the topic got around to politics and then they discussed some new guy who was far too big for his shoes as a politician.

The old rancher said, ‘Well, ya know, he is a post turtle’. Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a ‘post turtle’ was.

The old rancher said, ‘When you’re driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that’s a ‘post turtle’.

The old rancher saw a puzzled look on the doctor’s face, so he continued to explain. ‘You know he didn’t get up there by himself, he doesn’t belong up there, he doesn’t know what to do while he is up there, and you just wonder what kind of a dumb ass put him up there in the first place.’ “

One day a father and son got recruited into this race where they had to overcome a challenge: build a small toy boxcar that is only powered by an animal. It would be them and another team. The other team was lucky, they had hamsters as pets so naturally chose those. All this son and father had were fish and some small snails.

They got to designing and the irony of using snails for a fast car was not lost on them but they persevered. They discovered that the race track would be down the town hill. They got thinking and discovered that the slime trail the snails left was quite slick so they decided they would grease the cars axles with the slime and it was phenomenal how fast their car would go but they still doubted it would beat the other team. After all they had hamsters AND gravity.

The day of the race came and they saw that the other team had hooked up their hamster wheel to the axels and dangled some lettuce in front. Oh how fast those hamsters ran! Disappointment hung heavy on the father and son but they continued to apply those snails to the axles. The officials came by and marked the racers: an H for hamster and an S for snail. People placed bets and sniggered at how easy of a bet it was. Everybody held chips marked H for the clear winner except the father and son who held seemingly the only S tokens in the crowd. Still the father and son applied those snails to those axles on that S-marked racer.

The time of the race had come! The pistol shot and the cars went. H was in the lead easily right after the pistol. After all, hamsters are excellent accelerators. But something miraculous happened. At the very last moment S caught up, the snail slime finally working it's magic. In the last 50 feet it seemed the snails would win! As they gained and gained the father and son began jumping and whooping and as the snails and the hamsters approached within throwing distance of the finish line the son couldn't contain his excitement and yelled out

"S Car, Go!"

The physicist announces "We must put the garbage can in the fridge so that the temperature will be below the ignition temperature and therefore put itself out!"

The chemist replies "No, we must cover the garbage can so that the fire consumes all of the oxygen and, in the absence of reactants, can no longer continue!"

Meanwhile, the two turn around to find that the statistician is running around the room setting everything else on fire. "What the hell are you doing??"

"Getting a proper sample size!"

This one got groans from both Mom and the 3 year old, which I was pretty proud of.

We're in the Museum of Natural History, and they wanted to see the gemstone collection. You have to go through the geology area to do that. When we got to the rock identification area and I said "see, we're at the stones, I told you they'd be gneiss!"

Suffice to say I got the biggest of eyerolls as they continued on to the actual gemstones.

He said, "Look at my hair. It used to be so magnificent, but it's completely gone now. My hair can't be saved. But look outside at the forest. It's such a lovely forest with so many trees, but sooner or later they'll all be cut down and this forest will look as bald as my hair."

"What I want you to do..." the man continued. "Is, every time a tree is cut down or dies, plant a new one in my memory. Tell your descendants to do the same. It shall be our family's duty to keep this forest strong."

So they did.

Each time the forest lost a tree, the children replanted one, and so did their children, and their children after them.

And for centuries, the forest remained as lush and pretty as it once was, all because of one man and his re-seeding heirline.

A large Russian company buys a batch of off-road Mercedes trucks. The deal also includes training of drivers to work with the new equipment. One such Mercedes catches up with an old MAZ truck on the road. At one point the MAZ stopped, then a man with a bucket jumped out of it and scooped some water from a puddle on the road and poured it into the fuel tank. Then he gets in the truck, lights it and sets off. The instructor in the Mercedes, who speaks a little Russiаn, asks the driver:

- What's happening?

"It's out of fuel."

"You keep fuel in puddles along the road?"

- No. This is water.

The German was silent for a few minutes and stated:

- The car in front of us is moving with water!

- No! It's moving with diesel!

The instructor decides to make fun of him and is silent until they reach the base. Excited, he goes there and shares with his colleagues what he saw. It turns out that someone else saw the same thing, but he doesn't know Russiаn and couldn't ask. He returns to his trainee and continues to question. If MAZ is running on diesel, why did the driver add water to the fuel tank? The Russiаn explains to him that the pipe that sucks the diesel is located just a few centimetres above the bottom of the fuel tank. At the moment it stops refuelling, there are another ten litters of diesel in the fuel tank. When water is poured, the level rises, then the diesel, which is lighter, rises from the top and the truck can travel many more kilometres. Amazed by this explanation, the German asks:

"Why don't they put the fuel pipe at the bottom of the tank?"

The Russiаn's in shock answers him:

- But what if there is water in the diesel?

Edit: How a MAZ truck looks like - https://youtu.be/roj5Xf55PDU

"I’ve got you a job," says his agent. "That’s great," says the actor, what is it?" "Well," says his agent, "it’s a one-liner" "That’s okay," replies the actor, "I’ve been out of work for so long I’ll take anything. What’s the line?" "Hark, I hear the cannons roar!" says the agent. "I love it" says the actor "When’s the audition?" "Wednesday" says the agent.

Wednesday comes and the actor arrives at the audition. He marches on stage and shouts: "Hark, I hear the cannons roar!"

"Brilliant," says the director, "you’ve got the job. Be here 9 o’clock Saturday evening."

The actor is so happy he got the job that he goes on a major drinking session. He wakes up at 8:30 Saturday evening and runs to the theatre continually repeating his line; "Hark, I hear the cannons roar, hark, I hear the cannons roar, hark, I hear the cannons roar."

He arrives at the stage entrance, out of breath and is stopped by the guard. "Who the hell are you?" asks the guard. "I’m "Hark, I hear the cannons roar." "If you’re "hark I hear the cannons roar.", you’re late. Get up to makeup right now!"

So he runs up to makeup. "Who are you?" asks the makeup girl. "I’m "hark I hear the cannons roar."" "If you’re hark I hear the cannons roar", you’re late. Sit down here." And she applies the makeup. "Now quick, get down to the stage, you’re about to go on."

He dashes down to the stage. "Who are you?" asks the stage manager. "I’m "hark, I hear the cannons roar."" "You’re "hark, I hear the cannons roar?" Get out there, the curtain’s about to go up."

He tears onto the stage. The curtains rise, the house is full. Suddenly there is an almighty bang behind him, and the actor shouts "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?"

you can be put into an hourglass and continue to participate in family game night

We have always been such a happy couple and everything was fine for 3 years straight. Of course I always felt comfortable in front of her and felt like I can tell her anything. That's where I was wrong.

A few months ago I noticed that she became annoyed by my dumb jokes that were only funny to me, but that just made it even funnier to me so I continued telling all these dad jokes to her and died laughing every time.

She puts up with it because she loves me. At least I thought so.

We were always 100% honest with each other and I'm still shaken by the things she told me today.

I sent her probably one of my worst dad jokes ever (that I stole from reddit), and she just couldn't take it anymore and told me how stupid my jokes are and that she doesn't know if she'll be able to put up with it much longer.

But that's not the worst part, I actually appreciated her honesty and considered the possibility to stop with all the stupid jokes and become more serious in the relationship.

The worst part is that she lied to me for the first time in all these years. I felt like I just couldn't trust her anymore and everything I thought I knew about her as a person just became questionable. I need your advice on how to react to this huge lie...

She told me she's Sorry, but I know for a FACT that her name is Diane.

The moth drops down into the nearest chair and says “What’s the problem?”

Moth says “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, my boss is a vicious tyrant who gets off on the petty torments he puts me through day in and day out, and I’m too spineless to stand up to him, so I just take it and I’ve gradually come to hate myself for it. Also, every morning I wake up to the same prune-face old crone to whom I pledged my vows so many years ago. I used to love her, but that love has become like some sun-festering beached whale trying to die. We lost our daughter last year to one of the bitterest, coldest winters we’ve ever had to face in this region. Isn’t it funny, doc, how all the prayer circles and charity drives in the world amount to pretty much nothing in the face of that cold, impartial face of winter, that bleak, pounding, harsh fist of a callous environment, carrying on with its machinations without regard to our lives, loves, hopes and dreams? Isn’t that hysterical, Doc? Oh and then there’s my son. Doc, I don’t love him anymore. I don’t know what it is but I look in his eyes and I see that same harried look of gutless cowardice that I see when I stare at my own face in the mirror. If I wasn’t such a coward, Doc, I know I’d be able to scrape together enough pride to grab that cocked and loaded shotgun I keep by the bedside table, and just run amok and put an end to this grim facade once and for all. I start with the wife, then the boy of course before putting the barrell in my own mouth. Believe you me, Doc, I’d be doing the world a favor. I have nothing to look forward to but a continuation of this spiraling black hole that is my life, this existential cesspool that is the perpetuation of my lingering skid-mark on society. I despise people yet I crave their approval. I’m judgemental yet I care about nothing. I’m bitter, hateful and afraid. I’m alive yet I feel like the walking dead. This is it, Doc: I am a living, breathing, disease.”
The doctor stares at him for a while then finally says “Jeez, Moth, you definitely have some problems. But I’m a podiatrist. You need a psychiatrist. Why’d you come in here?”
The moth says,”Your light was on.”

Two chemistry professors at my school hated each other. No one knows why the rivalry started, but it escalated from common pranks to elaborate traps using their knowledge of chemical reactions. After one particular prank resulted in the fire alarm being triggered, the dean had enough. He ordered the two to sit together in the lounge at lunch and spend their free periods in each other's classroom.

Over the school year, they began to get to know each other better and eventually became friends. They became god-parents to each other's children, attended their graduations, and even saw them married. After the two men retired, they continued to spend time together, they learned to make YouTube and TikTok videos about chemistry and even went golfing together. If they never hated each other enough to devise elaborate pranks, they never would have been forced to spend time together and eventually become friends connected by their love of chemistry.

It was an ironic bond.

While I was milking her, a fly flew right into her ear, and wouldn’t come out. I tried to look into her ear, but couldn’t see it. It didn’t seem to be bothering her so I just decided to continue milking her. Then, suddenly as I was milking her, the fly flew right out with the milk! I couldn’t believe it.

In one ear, and out the udder.

She wasn’t unusual, nor was the travel bag she carried, except for one thing. She would approach people who were sitting on the beach, glance around, then speak to them.

Generally, the people would respond negatively and she would wander off, but occasionally someone would nod and there would be a quick exchange of money for something she carried in her bag.

The couple assumed she was selling drugs and debated calling the cops, but since they didn’t know for sure they just continued to watch her.

After a couple of weeks the wife asked, “Honey, have you ever noticed that she only goes up to people with boom boxes and other electronic devices?”

He hadn’t and said so. Then she said, “Tomorrow I want you to get a towel and our big radio and go lie out on the beach. Then we can find out what she’s really doing.”

Well, the plan went off without a hitch, and the wife was almost hopping up and down with anticipation when she saw the girl talk to her husband and then leave. The man walked up the beach and met his wife at the road. “Well, is she selling drugs?” she asked excitedly.”

“No, she’s not.” he said, enjoying this probably more than he should have.

“Well, what is it, then?” his wife fairly shrieked.

The man grinned and said. “Her name is Sally and she’s selling batteries.”

“Batteries?” cried the wife.

“Yes,” he replied. “She sells C cells by the Seashore.”

"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."

my therapist said, “You might be getting carried away.”

I continued to fire into the ceiling. “Not without a fight!”

She told me she had everything, and I was in a rush. So it got left behind. Figured it out right away as we were getting him changed and messaged my wife. She said she would bring it right away. I told my son "You mom is going to run your jersey over"

Without skipping a beat, he replied "Well that won't work, practice will probably be over. I wish she would just drive it over"

Then he gave me a huge grin. I told him he won the dad joke of the day and he continued smiling all the way until bedtime.

Not many people are aware of its existence but I assure that it is there all the same. The king of this little land faces a lot of difficulty. He wants to make his kingdom into a sovereign nation but unfortunately they do not have the infrastructure, population, or economy to do so. In fact, this small state is only known for a single export. Thanks to their proximity to some of the finest gold and other metals in the world but total lack of an ability to process those metals on a mass scale, they have been left with only one option. You know the saying; when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Make lemonade they did. This tiny territory is renowned for creating the highest quality watches in the world. No expense is spared and their elite group of craftsmen train for their entire lives from childhood to produce these terrific timepieces. Men of great wealth and taste have been known to trade entire fortunes for just a single one of these watches; that is how valuable they are.

The king knows this and he knows that only a small portion of his populace can ever hope to become one of the respected elite, let alone hold one of their masterpieces in their own hands. Being a very just and fair man, the king ordered the most senior watchmaker in the land to create something the likes of which had never been seen. A watch of such great craftsmanship so as to be above monetary value. The man labored long and hard for many nights to produce the king's watch. When he at last presented the completed work to his lord - in front of the entire nation, no less - he was met with thunderous applause and a warm embrace. He had done it! The king then made a shocking announcement.

"This masterpiece belongs to my people!"

When the roaring of the crowd died down he continued.

"This watch shall be a symbol of my love for all of you. Though I rule over you with supreme authority I do not wish a single one of you to feel that you do not have a voice in the ruling of this nation. From this day on let anyone who doubts my decisions or questions my judgment wear this watch and stand as my equal to voice their concerns. Should even a single one of you think me unfair or wrong in any matter then simply come to my castle and I will present you this token of good faith."

The king made good on his word and from that day on all citizens knew they held the right to challenge their king's rulings. Over time the watch became a symbol of fairness throughout the land. Anyone who wore it

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!”

https://youtu.be/vFI1k8P0aH0

Comment to give her sum motivation to continue :) ...but only if you want too :))

I'm here today to tell you all a horrible story, so that none of you have to go through the same experience as my friend.

My friend, Hugh, is a very religious man, who is also involved in our community. 2 weeks ago, our local church burned down and Hugh believed it was his Christian duty to help them get back on their feet. Hugh allowed the friars of the church to set up a cart in his mall to sell their flowers. Every day, the friars came in at 7:00 in the morning with a bushel of beautiful flowers and began to work diligently to arrange them into bouquets. All was going well, the mall was generating more revenue and the church was making more money than they were by selling the flowers in front of the church on Sunday. Everyone was happy; until that first weekend.

Our town is kinda tourist-y, so we get some out-of-towners on the weekends. A gay couple came to the mall the first weekend that the friars had taken up shop (Typically, our town is pretty progressive, but the friars tended to be uber-conservative). The couple came over to the cart and admired the flowers; they tried to purchase a bouquet, but the friars refused to sell to them. The couple was outraged and went to see Hugh directly. They complained to him that the friars were being discriminatory, so Hugh promised to have a talk with the friars. When Hugh confronted the friars, they refused to sell to the couple on the grounds that “they were committing an atrocity in the eyes of the lord.” The couple stormed off and promised to boycott the cart.

This past weekend, the couple came back with a large group and a letter from the mayor, saying that the friars had to sell to them, regardless of sexual preference. The friars stood firm and refused to sell to them, so the group started a protest. They brought in signs and started chanting around the cart. The friars continued to sell their flowers and Hugh allowed them to remain, so eventually the protest began to boycott the mall, rather than just the cart.

By today, the mall had lost 50% of its normal weekend revenue. The group sent a letter to Hugh saying that they could forgive him if he shut down the flower cart within the week. Hugh was pretty broken up, but he had no choice. To maintain his livelihood, he would have to kick the friars out of his store. He talked with the friars this morning and revoked their previous agreement. The friars had their cart packed and left by 7:30, to huge cheers from the community. The mall has been pretty norm

"Greetings, comrade." says the spy, but before he could finish his sentence, the Russian says, "I think you are American spy."

The spy is alarmed, but being a skilled, trained, spy, he says, "That is not true! I am the proudest Soviet there is! I can sing the anthem more beautifully than any other man in the country!"

He then proceeds to sing the Soviet anthem, so melodically and beautifully, that everybody in the bar cheers.

"Very good, very good!" says the politician. "But I still think you are spy."

The man continues to keep his cool.

"I am a historian! I can tell you everything about this glorious country!"

He then spends about two hours recounting the Revolution, the Great Patriotic War, about how superior to the Russia is in terms of technology compared to America and makes a great argument about how communism is beneficial to society.

"Amazing! You are skilled!" says the politician.

The spy smirks.

"But I still think you American spy."

The spy is getting frustrated, but still unfazed.

He replies, "I am good drinker, a true Russian! Let us drink, and see who can come out top!"

The bar turns its attention to the politician and the spy, who are now in a drinking contest.

The bartender serves drink after drink of vodka.

After about an hour of drinking, the politician nearly passes out, unable to hold as much liquor as the spy, to a resounding cheer amongst the bar.

In the midst of the cheering, the Russian politician gets up, smiling, and in a slurred speech, repeats, "You are good, you are good... but I still think you are spy."

The American spy, piss drunk, loses his skill and gives up.

"Okay, you got me. I am an American. But what made you think that way, after all this time?"

The Russian politician replies, "There aren't many black people in Russia."

My morning walk with the dog was cut short today. There's a park we usually wander through so she can sniff and explore, but today we couldn't get in because the path was blocked by an army of angry geese.

I was telling my mom about this and she mentioned there are geese at the river where she and a friend take their dogs, too. She said they must all be in town for some kind of conference. Then she paused for half a second and continued:

I bet it's a religious thing. They're here to preach the goosepel.

(To satisfy the rule: that's a play on gospel.)

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

"sounds like a prime choice," I replied.

"Heck, that baby could grow up to be a girl on fire," I continued.

"Please stop," my wife said.

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.

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

A quaint little men's class,

a few with class,

some smelling of a gin glass,

some with eyes of a lass,

the remainder eyeing a lad,

but all glad,

and all present,

youngster of the present,

bearders of the crescent,

readers new testaments,

preachers of old testaments,

bearers of saffron tenets,

wearers of white tints,

weird lovers of croissant,

well, all here, will all hear?

we never know,

lets look at the show

 

The English teacher, said,

"how to drink a juice?"

i know, said bart the bartender,

"with vodka and chicken tender"

the weirded beardo now angry,

showed he was a shouter,

wanted to be a bart-ender,

while shushing the crowd,

use a pipe, piped up a voice, loud,

"huh" exclaimed preacher pastor,

"no smoking" he said, showing a guilty fluster ,

"no sir" said the voice,

I'm extra maker,

spoke the voice quicker,

Mr.White scratching head,

"I'm an ex-straw maker",

the air cleared.

 

Proceeding further, Teacher continued,

the class was listening, eyes glued,

"etiquette is important" he said,

"wear napkin before eating",

their faces changed,

pulse now beating,

Mr.White said, "sir, we don't bleed",

an irritated saffron Sundar spoke,

"if you bleed, education you don't need"

the English sir, now a sundered bloke,

calmed the masked fish market,

as his God's fate chisel hammered,

"Do you know how to fork?" he stammered,

a brief silence, and too many whispers later

"I Pen is use sir", said a bright face,

"Do you know how to use a fork?" he corrected,

with damage now done, Silence resumed.

 

>ThePundits

Was at work when a co-worker tried to guess another co-workers height.

Her: "What are you, about 6' 3"?"

Him: "Yeah I'm 6' 3", your guess was right on the nose!"

Me: "Actually the top of the head, guessing 6' would probably be closer to the nose."

Them: "What?" They continued to stare at me with a confused expression until I just said never mind haha.

"I've been trying to reach you since the last three weeks but you wouldn't pick up the call," I said.

"I'm having some serious symptoms and I needed this appointment as soon as possible," I continued.

"Alright, alright," the doctor interfered. "Just be patient."

In the not too distant future, web censorship is pervasive; speech and freedom are strangers to one another; while pirates sail the seas with impunity, digital pirates are incarcerated by the busload.

Anyone who speaks out against this ban on open-dialogue or the free-sharing-of-ideas is ground down and hidden away, and the resistance is loosing its will.

A small group of contributors to reddit, huddled together in a bunker beneath barely-waving flags of Snoo, worked tirelessly to repost new ideas from around the internet, to release ideas from their chains, and make speech free ... again!

But it was not to be - a gang of the governments anti-piracy enforcers descended on this, the last bastion of humankind's will to share-freely. Arriving in an armored bus, ten shock-troopers breached the bunker and it looked like the day was lost.

Fortunately for us all, one brave redditor led the collective out a back entrance and they circled to the driveway. This leader told the other redditors to wait in the bushes while he overpowered the one soldier left guarding the transport. There was a flash of movement, a crack from a fallen branch as it struck the guard, and then, stolen keys in hand, the hero revved the engine and told the redditors to pile in.

He had to will himself ignore the gas gauge as he floored the accelerator on the 25,000 pound ticket to freedom - there was only survival or defeat, and nothing in between. Sirens came alive behind him as he rushed for the border to the promised land, to the Free-North.

As the engine begins to cough, the titanic weight of the transport cleaves the barricades asunder and the pursuing vehichles have to hard-brake to avoid skidding beyond their corrupt jurisdiction. Both exhausted and elated, the redditors follow their hero to the freedom promised by their new surroundings ... but their peril is not yet passed.

Though most of the pirate-hunters glower from the south-side of the border, one special agent has crossed over and is speaking with the border guards. The tension is thick. A long-faced guard turns to the newcomers, clearly troubled by what he must do.

"Folks," he says, a pained look on his kindly face, "I'm sorry, to do this, don't cha' know, but I got no choice, eh!"

Confused, the redditors look to one another, and tremble as they notice the agent's smug expression, greedy eyes fixed on the leader of the exodus.

"Look here, now, you are all welcome here, of course, and since speech is free here, we are

They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.

And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!

Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?

"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"

In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and

They snuck from their beds in the middle of the night and met in the gloomy darkness in front of the house, shivering in the cold.

The first boy said in a loud whisper, "You guys bring anything?" He slid a gun out of his pocket. The second boy nodded and revealed a knife. The third boy pulled out a flashlight.

"You didn't bring a weapon?" the first boy asked. He shrugged and replied, "Sorry". And as if to prove it, he turned his pockets out to show nothing but stray lint and a pack of cough drops.

They crept in. The door shut behind them. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. The flash light clicked on. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.

Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.

As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door on the other side, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a dead body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.

They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They found a fully set, ornate dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal goblets, pitchers and silverware adorned the table. Spiders crept over ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.

Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?

They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.

"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".

They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.

But the third said confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.

The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hel

He said, "Look at my hair. It used to be so magnificent, but it's completely gone now. My hair can't be saved. But look outside at the forest. It's such a lovely forest with so many trees, but sooner or later they'll all be cut down and this forest will look as bald as my hair."

"What I want you to do..." the man continued. "Is, every time a tree is cut down or dies, plant a new one in my memory. Tell your descendants to do the same. It shall be our family's duty to keep this forest strong."

So they did.

Each time the forest lost a tree, the children replanted one, and so did their children, and their children after them.

And for centuries, the forest remained as lush and pretty as it once was, all because of one man and his re-seeding heirline.