Touch Me Not Puns

My wife was complaining about how i'm not spontanious or creative, unless it involves terrible jokes, so i went out and got a tattoo (my first one). But since im not very creative i had them tattoo a pic of my thermos from work. I went home all excited and showed her my new tattoo! She was really confused about it. She looked at it for awhile and when she went to touch it i yelled at her not to touch the thermos tat. I think she's leaving me now :(

Me: um no it's not. Dad: *proceed to touch my shirt. It is now!

EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.

( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )

Hey everybody,

The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.

Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.

You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.

That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.

So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.

Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:

• You live in a very different timezone to Syd, AU - GMT+10
• You have a good sense of humour
• You're not in this purely to grow your 'net rep
• You're interested in being fair, and maintaining fairness
• You maintain civility in yourself and your responses at all times
• You have a bit of time every day to go through reports, spam, and post comments
• You understand that your moderatorship will initially be a trial, and can be revoked at any time if you aren't being magical and rad
• Some general CSS/subreddit formatting knowledge wouldn't go astray, but is not required

Here's what I am not looking for:

• Strong, cemented opinions about what constitutes a dad joke and what doesn't - everybody's dad and humour is different
• An overzealous post remover - I am not looking for an enforcer, the title moderator implies moderation
• A(nother) dictator - it is my preference that this subreddit be gently guided, and not forcibly ruled, we let the community find itself and we listen to what they say

If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int

Sorry about being a little out of touch the past couple of months. My business partner bailed on me in January and I'm in the process of forming a new corporation with a couple of investors, hiring a new bookkeeper (my expartner's wife used to do that), arranging a storage facility, moving offices and re-organizing staff. It has been hectic.

Part of my business model is consulting. I recently had an experience that proves the value of consulting & demonstrates how consultants can make a difference in an organization. I was very impressed. I think this is a segment that I can develop with financial help.

Last week, I went out with some friends to a new restaurant (Steve's Bistro & Provisional Ales). I noticed that the waiter who took our order carried a spoon in his shirt pocket. It seemed a little strange. When the busboy brought our water and utensils, I noticed that he also had a spoon in his shirt pocket. Then I looked around and saw that all the staff had spoons in their pockets. When the waiter came back to serve our soup I asked about the spoon.

He told me that restaurant's owner had hired Andersen Consulting to revamp all of our processes. After several months of analysis, they concluded that the spoon was the most frequently dropped utensil. It represents a drop frequency of approximately 3 spoons per table per hour. Everyone started to carry a spoon & since the staff is better prepared now they reduced the number of trips back to the kitchen and are saving 15 man-hours per shift.

A few minutes later I dropped my spoon and & my waiter replaced it with his spare. (I think that he thought I was texting him). He said that he would get another spoon next time I go to the kitchen instead of making an extra trip to get it right then. Pretty smart efficiency. These are the types of little changes I plan to make as we move forward.

As we finished dessert I noticed that there was a string hanging out of the waiter's fly. Looking around, I saw that all of the waiters had the same string hanging from their flies. Before my waiter walked off, I asked the him, about the string. He lowered his voice & told me that not everyone is that observant. The consulting firm he had told me about also learned that the restaurant can save time on bathroom breaks. By tying the string to the tip of the penis, the male staff can pull the penis out without touching it and eliminate the need to wash their hands. This small change shortens the ti

While listing the things I ate and touched that morning to the doctor I mentioned I had a piece of a pineapple upside-down cake; my dad who was in the room with me chuckled and said to the doctor "he always had problems with upside-down cakes, but not right-side up ones. Rest of the day he kept telling people that's the reason I had an allergic reaction.

EDIT: I somehow JUST saw the Mod Sticky post from last week, where a lot of users have expressed similar sentiments to these. I apologize to the mods if this is not appropriate and respect your decision if you want to delete it. I just wanted to see if people were thinking the same kind of thing. Still, read it if ya like.

It used to be that /r/dadjokes was a place to post actual stories of real dad humor. 'My dad pulled out this groaner at dinner.' 'Just became a dad...I think I get it now!' These are the things that warm my heart and tickle my corny bone. And I don't think I'm alone.

Now, we're arrogant enough to think we know the formula for dad humor, so we can post anything reminiscent of it, and it counts as a dad joke. It's as if we think we own dad humor now, and we can bend it and shape it at will.

Let me tell you, folks. WE DO NOT OWN DAD HUMOR.

Even the dads among us don't own it. I think the universe just channels it through them in brilliant, glorious, involuntary sneezes. Some are more deft than others, and are seen by the universe as more worthy outlets. But they do not own it.

We can get close to elusive heart of dad humor, we can approach it, we can dance around it...but we can never touch it. This is where I take issue with posts like this one, which currently has over 4000 upvotes and 2000 net karma. Is it reminiscent of dad-like punly-ness? Would a dad chortle heartily at reading it? Yes, almost certainly yes. But does that make it a dad joke? No...I would argue not.

Dad jokes are also not just about the jokes themselves. They're about the response--that he manages to be surprised at his own genius, even on the eightieth repetition. They're about the face-palms and straight stares of family members. What is a dad joke without context?

My proposed solution: ban link/image posts. I wish it wouldn't have to come to that, but I can't see another way to get back on track to the real goal here. I have hover zoom--I understand the desire for instant gratification. I've skipped over interesting looking videos because they required a click.

But that's not why I come here.

I understand that there are legitimate dad jokes transmitted via text, or perhaps requiring a bit of visual context. At this point, though, I think they are a necessary sacrifice for a righteous cause. They can always be transcribed into text, or included in a self-post. Maybe it seems a bit extreme, especially in the face

Daughter: pushes away her plate Daddy, I'm done with my supper. Me: No, you're not. You haven't even touched your pork. Daughter: reaches out with one finger and taps on her pork chop, then looks up at me and smiles

Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.

Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":

• Bucyrus International caters to those who mine their own business.
• It would be logical for Mr. Spock to boldly go to Vulcan International for rubber products. He might even live long and prosper -- in comfortable shoes.
• What do manufacturer Electro-Motive Diesel (EMD) and 1970s band Grand Funk Railroad have in common? They both want you to do the locomotion!
• Peter Piper can pick more than a peck of peppers or pickles from B&G Foods.
• Toray Plastics America could sing "foam, foam on the range, where the polyester and polypropylene materials are made" all day.
• Break out the Tums, because things are awfully gassy over at Air Liquide America.
• If a tree falls in a Weyerhaeuser forest, someone is there to hear it -- and he has a chainsaw.
• Although not a pushover, you can walk all over Wilsonart International.
• Here's a HEICO haiku: HEICO companies/ Providing for jet engines/ In flight or on land.
• American Italian Pasta Company (AIPC) uses its noodle in many different ways.
• The golf industry doesn't mind when Aldila gives it the shaft.
• Rat-a-tat-tat and a ringa-ding-ding. What's that? Answer: The sounds emanating from Pearl, one of the world's foremost makers of drums and other percussion and musical instruments.
• Saint-Gobain Ceramics & Plastics deals powders and crystal, but there's no need to call the cops.
• Pamida Stores Operating Company offers more small-town values than a bandwagon of Republicans on the campaign trail.
• Like a tight end, offshore drilling contractor Transocean dreams of going deep but doesn't mind eating a little mud.
• Rittal me this, Batman!
• Utility Trailer Manufacturing is spreading its own brand of reefer madness.
• Who is the Fresh Prince of Sullair?
• If GrafTech International were a bard, it could wax poetic in an ode to the electrode.
• When it comes to adhesives and vibration control products, LORD knows.
• You might say that Deere & Company enjoys its customers going to seed.
• Pfizer pfabricates pfarmaceuticals pfor quite a pfew inpfirmities.
• Stripping is OK at Spraylat.
• Don't think Seton is

Son: The touch tank is open! Me: Yeah, I'm really not feelin' it

My dad (57) and I (17) were washing our hands after taking care of business in the public restroom of our local grocery store. The sinks were automatic, the kind you don't have to touch. After wetting my hands and getting some soap, my sink shut off and his kept running. I could not get mine to turn back on as he rinsed his mitts. As I struggle to get it back on by waving my hands my dad grabs some paper towel and looks at me with the most serious expression and he says "Ever feel like you're... Invisible?" Then giggles like a schoolgirl out the door.

I looked in the fridge to start helping my mom bake pies for family dinner.

Me: "Dad, when did you start drinking alcoholic root beer?"

Dad: "It's not mine."

Mom: "He got that for you, because it's not your father's root beer."

Dad: "The Dad's root beer is mine though, so don't touch it."

One summer my dad who was a jack of all trades construction worker type, my cousin that's an electrician and my dad's uncle who had Parkinson's disease were all working on an electrical project at my Uncles house. Replacing a power meter is pretty dangerous if the power is not shut off and if you touch the wrong thing, it could very easily kill you.

So here these three men are. My electrician cousin says "Okay, don't friggin touch me. I gotta slide this washer on here and if I touch the sides, I'll fry." So as he's doing this, he's shaking because he's nervous. Eventually he stops to take a breather and my uncle says "Give me that thing." To which my dad responds "Are you crazy? This is not a job for Parkinson's"

My uncle gets kinda bummed and says something about not being able to do anything anymore and my dad tries to cheer him up by saying "Oh come on, there are plenty jobs you can have, Rick".

My uncle says "Yea, like what?"

My dad responds "I dunno... Sifting."

My uncle laughed harder than I had seen him laugh in a long time.

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.

Little brother touching some chains:

Sister: Stop touching those, Jack

Me: Yeah, chain on you!

Brother: That might have been the worst joke I've ever heard...

I'm not a dad but right there I felt like one

I was on the phone with my dad, and he told me he'd put me in touch with a friend of his about finding a job. I asked who, but just then my dad sneezed into the phone.

Me: "Thanks! What's his name? I'll give him a call."

Dad: loud, noisy sneeze

Me: "Huh, I don't think we've met. How do you spell that?"

Dad: "Not funny. I need a tissue."