A list of puns related to "Town Rights"
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!"
They're in an unfamiliar town, and the father is getting frustrated.
"I don't know which direction we're heading and these roads make no sense." He says. "I can't turn left and I can't turn right."
The mother replies, "Sounds like you've lost your bearings."
His best friend, Roy, was known around town for having an adventurous streak that a small town just couldn't satisfy. Roy yearned to travel the world, to rub shoulders with the well-to-do, and to squeeze every drop of excitement he could out of life. While most young folk in town, my grandpa included, were resigned to their lot, Roy was driven by his dream. He worked incredibly hard, taking every hired-hand and handy-man job he could find. He would walk five miles each way to clean a gutter if there was a nickel to be made. His hometown was always spotless, because Roy would pick up every glass bottle he saw to get the deposit back, and every can he found would get turned in for recycling.
The years stretched on. Grandpa settled down with his high school sweetheart in a one-room cottage and had my dad, and not much else. Roy kept hurrying from one job to the next, never spending a dime on a date. Everyone would just roll their eyes and quietly gossip about how poor Roy's obsession was robbing him of a real life.
One day, Roy showed up at Grandpa's house, all decked out in a brand new khaki safari kit, complete with helmet, binoculars, and elephant gun, and announced that he had finally saved up enough for passage to Africa to go big game hunting. He was especially proud of the fine leather boots he was sporting. "Indestructable" he called them, totally impenetrable to water, wind, and snow. No trench-foot for him while he tracked rhinos on the savannah!
Grandpa congratulated Roy on his achievement and wished him bon voyage. Over the next three months, the town felt Roy's absence. Litter lay where it fell, gutters overflowed in heavy rain, small-time farmers rose that bit earlier and bedded that bit later to cover the work Roy used to help with. Of course, the gossipers just turned their chat from how Roy needed a dose of reality to how thoughtless it was of him to just up and leave. Most folks were convinced Roy was gone for good. After all, how could he come back from such a high-falutin' adventure to his tiny, no-account hometown?
But return Roy did, and everyone crowded around at the bar to hear his account of his safari. To their surprise, Roy told them that, for all the time he had been away, he only bagged one trophy that was currently on a slow boat back. It turned out, once Roy got a close-up look at the elephants, rhinos, giraffes, gazelles, and all the fine animals of the African savannah, he lost all heart for hunting. He just couldn't imagi
... keep reading on reddit ➡After my first term ended I decided to move back to my home town. A few weeks later I saw a news article, a zoo had been broken into and all the animals had escaped, noticing the zoo was right near my old house I decided to call my old flat mate and ask if he was okay. When he answered he seemed terrified, but no matter how many times I asked he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. In the end I got frustrated and hung up.
I later discovered he was seriously injuried in a vicious animal attack right after that phone call and I felt terrible for hanging up the phone, but I tried my best, he wouldn't tell me why he was scared he just kept telling me "bear-with-me, bear-with-me" and a man can only wait so long
So yesterday was surreal.... I was following an ambulance into town, when I noticed a small metal box sitting on the rear bumper. When the ambulance turned right the box flew off and landed on the side of the road against the curb. Call me curious or just the Good Samaritan that I am, I pulled over and retrieved it. When I opened the box there was a human toe packed in ice inside it. Whoops, that’s a serious mistake I thought. So unsure if the ambulance was going to the Regional Hospital I called the hospital and explained what I had found. The lady on the other end of the phone said “Yes, the ambulance had just arrived minus the box”. I gave her my location and asked if they were going to send another ambulance to collect it or should I bring it in? The lady replied “No, we’ll just send a toe truck.”
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡There was a little town in Mexico, right across the border from Texas. They got a taste for Mayonnaise from the Cowboys crossing the border to eat. Soon they created a festival for their love of Mayonnaise. They’d have every type of mayonnaise you could think of. Folks loved it. The 10th anniversary of the festival was coming up and they decided they wanted to do something special. They heard of a place in England that made the worlds very best. They placed their order and was told it would be shipped overseas to them by boat. Because they had placed such a large order, the only ship capable of carrying it was the Titanic. The folks were waiting excitedly until the morning that the Titanic had hit a iceberg. When the news came that they wouldn’t get their shipment and to honor those lives lost, they decided to rename their festival. It became known as “Sinko De Mayo.”
and Tonto had been riding hard for hours when they can to a town. The Lone Ranger and Tonto ties up their horses to the hitching post. He told Tonto “the horses are hot, run around them in a circle until they cool down.” He went into the bar and ordered a drink. A stranger walked up and said “You’re the Lone Ranger, right?” He said yea and the stranger said “you left your injun running”
After many years of wandering, he finally arrived in a small village in the middle of nowhere. The people there believed in the same religion as he did, but they had no church; they had to go to the nearest one which was in a small town 25 km's from there. The priest took the initiative, asked the Church for support, and with the help of the local men they built their own temple. From there on, he was celebrating the Sunday masses, joining together men and women in Holy Matrimony, and saying prayers at the funerals.
Many years passed by like that.
At the end of an ordinary mass, in early spring, on a chilly Sunday morning he was just guiding the people out of the church, was about to close the gates when an unknown man stepped into the churchyard.
With his dirty and torn clothes, he stood before the priest and said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was a good man, and even though he thought the request was a bit strange, he went back to the rectory, took out a lemon, cut it in half, took it back to the man and gave it to him, who looked back to the priest with gratitude. However, the priest was curious. He asked:
Son, why do you need this half of a lemon? - with a fright on his face, and before the priest could have said a thing, he rushed out of the churchyard gate and took off.
A week later, around the same time, when the priest was leaving the church, he found himself in front of the same man in the churchyard. The man said:
Priest, please be good and give me half a lemon! - the priest was surprised by the appearance of the man and his strange request. Of course he was good, went back to the rectory, and brought the half lemon. Placed it in the stranger’s hand and immediately he asked:
Here it is, my dear son, but please tell me why do you need this half a lemon? - the man was obviously frightened and immediately ran away but the priest was not sluggish either and ran after him. He wasn’t in a very good condition, he has never run so much and so fast before so he was out of breath by the end of the village, almost fainted. He thought the strange man might appear again next week, and it would be nice if he could keep up with him, so he spent his week working on his cardio. It turned out to be a good idea, because as he thought, the stranger entered the churchyard on Sunday. The priest didn’t even wait for the request, he was good, and brought the half lemon. He received these words from the man:
Thank you
There once was a man who had a job driving a passenger train between two large towns. It could be a very dull job to some, but as the old saying goes, one man's trash is another's gold; he wanted to be a railroad man since he was a boy.
He was a wiz behind the controls of the train, and commanded the 15 car vehicle effortlessly as if he had been born to do the job. He prided himself on the fact that he could bend the rules and speed through curves and grades that made other motormen shiver and back off.
One day however, he wasn't so lucky and came round a bend too fast and derailed his train. He backed off the throttle and braked as much as he could, managing to only have one fatality out of 500 passengers on his train.
Months later there was a trial and he was found guilty of manslaughter in the highest degree, a capital offence in that land, and sentenced to die by electric chair. Punishment came swift, unlike most places, and 3 days after sentencing the former railroader was asked for his last meal.
"I'll have a banana," "Just a single banana?" said the perplexed guard. "The warden will grant you a feast and all you want is that?"
"Just a single banana." he said.
After he downed the fruit, he was strapped into the electric chair an hour later.... The warden hit the switch, lights flickered, and the crackle of electricity could be heard for over a minute...
...but our train jockey instead rose from the chair looking more like he got a stiff massage, rather than be put to death! Well in that nation, the law of the land states that if a man somehow survives being put to death, they must be set free...
...And so it came to pass that our engineer was let go...
And for whatever reason, he got his job back!
So he was back railroading again doing the job that he loved. You'd think he'd have been more cautious with this second chance he'd been given, but you'd also be wrong. Speedy Gonzales with a train license decided to gun his locomotive to hard and send it off the tracks again!
Of course, this time he was tried for the same crime, but at a different time (his was a fair commonwealth and double indemnity was simply unheard of!) So fair was their nation, that the jury came up with the same judgement and punishment. So three days later, when asked for his last meal, the engineer simply said "I'll have 2 bananas..."
Not less than 60 minutes after consuming the last morsel was he strapped into the chair and the switch thrown... And....
NOTHING.
... keep reading on reddit ➡So, my town has a major highway that runs through it, and a bridge that people can walk over. Well, some guy decides to tie a ball to a string and dangle it over the side of the bridge. That way, any car that goes under the bridge will think they hit something and the guy could have a good laugh. Well, a semi comes through, and the ball gets caught on the mirror. The guy's arm gets ripped clean off, and he's sent to the hospital right away. The truck driver gets pulled over as he's passing through another town. The arm is still dangling from the mirror. The truck driver is then arrested, for armed robbery. (Badum-tsss) (Thank you, thank you. I can't wait to get 3 whole karma for this one.)
My friend (L) and I (B) ended up in a pun war. She had to wake up super early to catch a flight, and this was at about one in the morning:
L: I should definitely set my alarm to 'cow' o.O
B: Haha, do it. Nothing like waking up to cows in the 'moo'rning.
L: Oh my gosh. Absolutely not.
B: Hey, but it would be so 'udder'ly hilarious!
L: I just got stabbed to death by a pun.
B: I'm just trying to 'milk' it for all it's worth...
L: If I did that, I'm not sure I'd wake up in a happy 'moo'od.
B: Just drink some 'calf'inated coffee, and you'll be fine.
L: I'd be laughing 'stock' of the town... Cows don't have a sense of humor.
B: Bull!
L: I'll just use my cowculator do determine how much sleep I'm actually going to get tonight...
B: You could wake up a little later, but you'd have to 'hoof' it to the airport.
L: Hope the weather is good, so my plane isn't 'ground'ed 'beef'.
B: That's stretching it... You should make more of an 'heifer't to come up with good puns.
L: I know when I'm getting creamed.
B: It's hard to 'steer' you in the right direction, because you keep changing topics.
L: That's udderly ridiculous. I'm just trying to mooove on.
B: And I just keep churning 'em out...
L: No, you're just spinning your 'veal's.
B: That's one of the best ones I've herd all night!
L: I thought I might've butchered it...
B: PETA might have a beef with you because of it, though...
L: Well done, well done...
B: I don't think they care leather or not you personally slaughtered it, too.
L: See now, I wish you'd stop 'grilling' me about the bad puns... You should 'patty' yourself on the back. I 'dairy' you to come up with more.
B: Well, you can certainly steak a claim for being able to hold your own...
L: I'm a natural 'barn' comedian. However, I really should quit 'yak'king and go to bed. :p
B: Okay, that's not cows... You lose. You 'cud' have done a lot better.
L: The grass is greener on the other side, okay? Also, cows live in barns, and yaks are related to cows.
B: It was still quite a stretch... Don't have a cow about it.
L: Ha anymoo. Goodnight! Also, don't die of mad cow disease.
HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n
... keep reading on reddit ➡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":
For the next month, every dad in my town went through my line saying "Huh, I didn't know you had a drive thru." One right after the other, it was like a dad assembly line from hell.
Whenever I'm in town, I'll play my next-door neighbor's dad in a couple games of chess. We've been doing it for nearly 15 years.
Yesterday, I visited him and was telling him about my future plans. I said, "Yeah, I think I'll take the GRE and go to graduate school. I just really want to go back to school."
He replies, "Skip the GRE. I can school you right now. Let's play some chess."
Let me preface this with some info. Firstly, me and my father are idiots; our jokes can become insensitive if we aren't careful, as we have few filters. My parents live in a tiny town amidst a thousand other tiny towns. One of the tiny towns right beside us (let's call it Townsburg) has a lot of forest and extra land, so towards the end of the summer when it's still hot but the land is starting to dry out, it's rather susceptible to fires. The other day, Townsburg caught fire in a few different places. The town my parents live in (we'll call it Cityville) is the sausage capital of our state. Yep. Sausage capital. Like brisket and such. Our proudest export is meat. Meat is what we are most proud of. I don't live there anymore, thank the universe.
So I went by my parents house on the way home from work one day to check on my retired, sick father, and watch the news with him (something I try to do whenever I can). And what happened next, well, it all just happened so fast...
Me: "Whoa, Townsburg is on fire again. I guess Cityville isn't the barbecue capital anymore, AYO." Dad: "Nope. Looks like they're about to be the barbecued capital." Me: "...we may need to stop hanging out so much."
My family was on our way to a local Mexican restaurant and we were discussing a town called Park Ridge.
"well you know they call Park Ridge the Christmas town of Illinois, right?"
"why?"
"and a Park Ridge in a pear tree!"
He lives in a somewhat rural town and someone he knows rode his horse through town today. As he pulled up next to him he asked " How many miles to the gallon does your MUSTANG get?"
So proud right now.
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