U Verse Puns

You’re just making a bad situation verse!

Our son was trapped in the spider-verse.

"Oh." said the counselor. "I see what the problem is. You can't decide whether to marry for batter or verse."

Could be verse

They call it the "Marble Cinna-matic Uni-verse"

He went from gouda to bed to verse.

So every night for the past almost 6 years I sing her the Sunshine Song

You know, "you are my Sunshine, my only sunshine."

And after a few years I got tired of it and would start songs from the nightmare before Christmas (because I'm a big elfman nerd) and Part of your world (because I'm completely obsessed with singing out of key chick verses and the little mermaid is dope af) but she would SCREAM anytime I started anything that wasn't the Sunshine song, I love this, so I go on for a couple bars while she's screaming then calm her down and sing the right song. To be fair, she likes the I'm On The Outside by boingo, so I belt that too. Although it's only acceptable in the car.

Now here I want to add that in the description of the event I will place a * where she interrupts me and the words immediately after that * will be her words.

Ok, so she's in bed just now and I said What song do you want me to sing?

Obvs sunshine dude.

So I start with the "look at this stuff, isn't it neat?"

And she's not screaming, she has a smile on her face so my mind is like "did she become ok with this, can I finally sing a different song than sunshine and eponas song?" So I keep going thinking that I finally won.

I get to the line, "Fliiping your fins, you won't get too **fart!"

I'm fucking dead this kid played me like a fiddle.

Someone call 911 I'm ded

I'm currently running my players through a D&D adventure titled "Curse of Strahd".

Last session, my players found a journal revealing details about the main villain, Count Strahd Von Zarovich. When they acquired it, I passed the adventure book over--opened up to an illustration depicting the journal's pages--and one of the players proceeded to read. After struggling for a bit, he said, "I'm having a tough time reading this cause it's so cursive."

Yes," I responded. "It's the cursive Strahd."

I had that one chambered and ready for weeks, just waiting for the right moment.

What my players don't know is that I'm also going to include a few other bits of flavor for my them to find as they progress through the game:

• A fancy handbag with the initials "SVZ" hammered into the leather... the "purse of Strahd"
• A grave in which the Von Zarovich family nanny is buried... the "nurse of Strahd"
• A carriage very obviously built to accommodate Strahd's coffin... the "hearse of Strahd"
• A book full of poetry written during Strahd's younger days, before he was consumed by darkness... the "verse of Strahd"

They are two di-verse.

I have written this book to sweep away all misunderstandings about the crafty art of punnery and to convince you that the pun is well worth celebrating.... After all, the pun is mightier than the sword, and these days you are much more likely to run into a pun than into a sword. [A pun is a witticism involving the playful use of a word in different senses, or of words which differ in meaning but sound alike.]

Scoffing at puns seems to be a conditioned reflex, and through the centuries a steady barrage of libel and slander has been aimed at the practice of punning. Nearly three hundred years ago John Dennis sneered, “A pun is the lowest form of wit,” a charge that has been butted and rebutted by a mighty line of pundits and punheads.

Henry Erskine, for example, has protested that if a pun is the lowest form of wit, “It is, therefore, the foundation of all wit.” Oscar Levant has added a tag line: “A pun is the lowest form of humor—when you don’t think of it first.” John Crosbie and Bob Davies have responded to Dennis with hot, cross puns: “...If someone complains that punning is the lowest form of humor you can tell them that poetry is verse.”

Samuel Johnson, the eighteenth century self-appointed custodian of the English language, once thundered, “To trifle with the vocabulary which is the vehicle of social intercourse is to tamper with the currency of human intelligence. He who would violate the sanctities of his mother tongue would invade the recesses of the national till without remorse... ”

Joseph Addison pronounced that the seeds of punning are in the minds of all men, and tho’ they may be subdued by reason, reflection, and good sense, they will be very apt to shoot up in the greatest genius, that which is not broken and cultivated by the rules of art.

Far from being invertebrate, the inveterate punster is a brave entertainer. He or she loves to create a three-ring circus of words: words clowning, words teetering on tightropes, words swinging from tent tops, words thrusting their head into the mouths of lions. Punnery can be highly entertaining, but it is always a risky business. The humor can fall on its face, it can lose its balance and plunge into the sawdust, or it can be decapitated by the snapping shut of jaws. While circus performers often receive laughter or applause for their efforts, punsters often draw an obligatory groan for theirs. But the fact that most people groan at, rather than laugh at, puns doesn’t mean that the punnery isn’t fu

So this happened a couple of years ago. I worked in a room of about 40 engineers. Someone on a different team always had his phone on loud, and his ringtone set as the Friends theme (which soon became pretty annoying)

Anyway, one afternoon, the offender had gone for a cigarette but left his phone behind. Phone rings, and no-one dares answer his phone for him, so we all ignore it and eventually they ring off.

Moments later, same thing happens, I think it gets through the intro and into the first verse before they ring off.

Silence. We breathe a sigh of relief. They've given up.

...

*Ding digading ding dinga din...

Someone in the office yells "HE IS ON A BREAK"

My 2.5-year-old son was singing Old MacDonald in the car and decided to be a little silly by having each verse be a progressive number of mittens on his farm.

When he got to five mittens, I asked him, "Why would he need so many mittens? How many hands does he have?"

While my son was thinking it over, my wife replied, "They are for all of his farmhands."

Sitting in booth, after ordering some chicken wraps.

Me: Start unwrapping the wraps and eating.

Friend: Looks up, "So how's your wrap?"

Me: "Oh its good, just not enough verses."

Friend: Proceeds to stare blankly at me for a couple of seconds, then bursts into laughter after getting it.

I had just gotten off the phone with my wife on the car bluetooth and the radio came on. Of course Adele's Hello started playing (why is this song so overplayed?) so I pretended it was another call and started replying to her. It works for the first few verses.

It's called "Buddha, That Fat Bastard".

He used to tell me to tell it to all of my friends and I always had to remind him that none of them had been born when "The Satanic Verses" came out. Though he may be gone, my dad's fondness for terrible jokes lives on in me.