Underlying Set Puns

He really did reach a new low.

The punanimous Declaration of the thirteen United States of Pun-merica, When in the Course of human pun-ventures, it becomes necessary for one people to loosen the comical bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the wits of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Yaws of Pun-Nature and of Nature's Pun entitle them, a decent respect to the punchlines of mankind requires that they should declare the pun-riddled causes which propel them to the separation.

We hold these puns to be self-evident, that all wordplay is created equal, that they are endowed by their Pun-ator with certain un-pun-able Rights, among these are Life, Linguistic-erty and the pursuit of Puntasticness.--That to secure these rights, Pun-ernments are playfully instituted among Puns, deriving their just laughter from the consent of the amused, --That whenever any Form of Pun-ernment becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Write of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to pull out new Wordmanship, laying its fun-dation on such punster principles and organizing its powers in such playful form as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Laugh-ety and Happiness. Prun-dence, indeed, will dictate that Pun-ernments long established should not be changed for pun-light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while pun-evils are sufferable, than to set-write themselves by abolishing the language forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long laugh-track of abuses and usurp-puns, pursuing invariably the same Pun-jectives evince a design to reduce them under absolute Pun-potism, it is their right, it is their pun-ty, to chuckle off such Word-rule, and to provide new Punderful Guards for their pun-ture posterity.--Such has been the pun-ient sufferance of these Pun-olonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Punnery. The history of the present Pun-King of Great Pun-Ain is a history of repeated punchlines and usurp-puns, all having in jest the establishment of an absolute Pun-ranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be fun-bmitted to a candid whirl of wordplay.

I said... “Wow, that’s a meaty urologist!” 😎🤓

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 little bit of Background information:  When I was a young lad, my father was a professional glass cleaner.   Not just for a job, cleaning Glass was this man's passion!  He always wanted me to take over for him when I grew up, but I always thought it would be a pain, it was a silly job, really.   However, I knew that my father would be shattered if I didn't put an honest effort into the cleaning business.    The first time I perfectly cleaned a mirror, I realized I could really see myself doing this!   My father was wiping away tears of pride when I began to become as passionate as he was.

Anyways, fast forward to a couple months ago.   I have taken over my father's cleaning company, and was working a job at a publishing agency.  Now, due to the pandemic, this building had set up different entry points depending on the purpose of your visit, and each one was gated and stationed by an employee so you could have your temperature taken and go through a checklist to ensure you don't have any symptoms, etc.

After finishing the contract at this building, the owner was so impressed with my work that he said he would like to recommend me for a permanent job with a friend of his.   At first, I was skeptical (I had taken over the family business, after all), but it was becoming difficult to find regular clients anymore, so I agreed.    He gave me a single sheet from a notepad, and told me to write down something about myself that sets me apart from others in my line of work, and I should make it a very impactful statement,  his friend was a very busy man and wouldn't look at more than notes like these.    I wasn't sure what to write on the spot, so he told me to think about it, and return the note when I come back to leave the bill for my work.

So I came back a few days later, went through the gate to drop off my bill and my note about how I am much better than any other glass cleaner out there.    Well, it turns out the friend of the publishing agency's owner was a hiring manager for a well-known computer company, and my note really caught his eye, and I was offered the job!   Now I make more money every two weeks than I had with a month!   At first, I though my father would be upset by me leaving the family business behind, but he told me "As long as you are happy where you are, with what you are doing, then you are succeeding in life.  You are no longer a student of glass cleaning, you are my equal, and I am proud of you"  I never realized how freeing it

Me: "So you can use any of my soap or shampoo you find in the shower. I set a clean towel on the counter for you and pushed the stool under the sink so you won't trip over it."

Boyfriend: "I mean, I'd prefer if you flushed any stool down the toilet before I shower, but as long as I don't trip on it I guess we're okay."

I set off a firecracker under his chair, but he didn't even twitch.

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

A few years ago my sister decided to iron her gym shorts without knowing that the fabric would melt under the heat of the iron, burning a massive hole in them. She texted our dad to let him know she'd set her shorts on fire.

His reply: 'good lord, how fast were you running?'

Still makes me laugh to this day.

For the record, my dad didn't say any of these. Also, they get kind of weird near the end.

My vacuum sucks, or, rather, doesn't suck.

That drawing looks sketchy. Something about it looks... shady.

Lightbulb is a smart guy. Some might even say he's bright.

"Mmm, cheesy" he says as he takes the macaroni out of the oven.

When entering a planetarium, my father mentioned how he'd like some cookies with his Milky Way.

Oreolas = cookie nipples (Couldn't really think of a way to set this one up that didn't make it even more awkward.)

"Underwear? Under there?" My dad mentioned as he put his pants away.

Edit: If you've any others, share them in the comments!

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.

A great bundle of Internet puns; enjoy!

You despise Microsoft FrontPage as a web editing tool and as extensions to your webserver.

You can answer the question ‘is the internet broken’ without laughing.

You can spot the theme behind the following list: RedHat, SuSE, Debian, Caldera, Slackware.

You can feel the load a server is under without actually checking statistics. It ‘just isn’t running right’ actually makes sense.

You maintain more than four websites and do not have time for a personal web page.

You know all of the following people by reputation and can explain what they’ve done that is relevant to your world: Steve Case, Linus Torvalds, Eric Allman, Sanford Wallace.

You know what TCP/IP stands for, not to mention DNS, HTTP, SNMP, BGP, OSPF, and DUN. You like acronyms.

I think Bing could have totally crushed Google if they had called it “Bang”. I mean, think about it.. “I BANGED Emma Watson last night.”

The Internet: where men are men, women are men, and children are the FBI…

On the Internet you can be anything you want. It’s so strange that many people choose to be stupid.

Girls are like an internet virus: they enter your life, scan your pockets, transfer money, edit your mind, download their problems and delete your smile…

Chuck Norris created the World Wide Web using a typewriter. When Chuck Norris plays hide and seek, even google can’t find him.

A press release: “Yesterday, for the first time a hacker was convicted of network penetration and went to jail to serve a 12 years sentence. According to the data of the central computer of the police, the hacker goes to liberty the day after tomorrow because of expiration of the sentence.”

Justin Bieber got 100,000 retweets for tweeting “Live life full”. That’s just 3 random words. I’m going to try now. Jockstrap squirrel potatoes.

Facebook: “My kids are perfect.” Instagram: “My kids are beautiful.” Twitter: “My kids are why I drink.”

The facts on this website are Chuck Norris’ smallest acheivements. If you knew what he was really capable of, you would never sleep at night.

Teacher: If you spend all your time sitting round playing on the Internet, you’ll be fat and useless when you grow up. Pupil: Wow! You must have spent hours surfing when you were a kid!

What kind of doctor fixes broken websites? An URLologist.

Long post is long:

Her: Remember dad's tomato bushes? Well they're attacking! At least one is leaning across the path trying to get at my window... We had the war of the roses, now its time for the attack of the tomatoes!

Me: I don't remember anything about tomato bushes. From one battle to the next.

Her: Yep! Lookout tomatoes here comes the chutney recipe!

Me: I can just imagine a cucumber campaign. Operation onion would be next, which will fail, causing everyone to cry. Dill Day follows, a great success for the allied gardeners. All too soon though, the kamikaze carrots set in, utterly ruining the radish raid. The mushroom maneuver is employed, saving the troops, allowing them to deal the final blow in the asparagus assault!

Her: Don't forget the pumpkins want to supply ground cover with heavy support...

Me: Ah yes, the pumpkin paratroopers.

Her: Thyme is running out...

Me: Prepare the beetroot bombs!!!

Her: Aim for Potato Garden!

Me: Fire the capsicum! Deploy the celery team!

Her: Bring in the egg plant division to support the capsicum!

Me: This is it boys, life or dirt! I want a passionfruit unit to find us a vantage point, and the strawberry unit to surround them!

Her: We had better bring the lettuce up to date!

Me: The cabbage are under withering fire, we need support from the raspberry division! The potatoes are mashed, so well need to send the zucchini in their place!

Her: The zucchini can't take that heavy fire, they'll be grated. Send spinach for some extra iron. The sweet potatoes are digging in at the ridge.

Me: Prepare the watermelon bomb, we need to finish this! The eggplant were squashed, deploy the broccoli brigade! The beans need to get out of there, or they'll be split!

Her: Cauliflowers are going in to retrieve the beans. How brave to risk their florets!

The corn commandos are deployed, but the artichokes are all out of heart, we need to boost morale.

Me: The leeks are down! They'll be flattened if we don't do something!

Are the spinach still operational?

Her: Too bad the pepper isn't on our side, they're well seasoned troops.

Spinach is a go!
Nothing has touched it...

Me: But wait! We still have the chillies to give them heavy fire!

Her: And the squashes and peas!

Me: The ginger is holding it's ground, but it's being cut down by the pineapple!

The basil should make things interesting, send them to aid the potatoes.

**Her:

This was quite a while ago, I was probably in middle school (currently 26). My family took a quick day trip to Universal Studios Hollywood since we live in the greater LA area. Now to set the scene, my dad is a native of Mexico but has lived here since his late teens so his English is pretty good with a tinge of an accent since Spanish is his primary language. We park in the parking garage on property and we do the usual "make a mental note of where we parked for later". That's when I see a smirk come across his face as he turns to me laughing under his breath.

-"What's so funny?"

-"Notice where we parked?"

-"Yeah. Jurassic Park lot, 3B"

Cue dad

-"Jurassic Park..." half expecting me to laugh. He continues "Jurassic Park... Jurr-Ass-is-Parked"

facepalm

As terrible as it was at the time, I've tried to pull this joke out with friends years later, eye rolls and crickets. Thanks dad.

MAN LAWS

The International Rules of Manhood

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:

(a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master.

(b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.

(c) After wrecking your boss' car.

(d) When she is using her teeth.

3: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.

5: If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.

6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice.

8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

10: You may flatulate in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free.

12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.

13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos. Ever. Issue closed.

15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything.

16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.

18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy.

19: If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.

20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she's withholding

My apologies for this joke having a long lead up, but stay with me for a second and you'll understand. With the Ontario provincial elections having come and gone, it had reminded me of this getting dad joked by my uncle and a bit of underlying sarcasm that goes along with politics and the voting process. I was at my uncles farm and we were setting up for some target practice for my son and his buddy. My uncle says to me go into the shop there in the left front corner and grab one of those targets I have. As I execute my search for such item I see that they are old politic yard signs with paper targets stapled over top. I come out teasing my uncle that it looks like he's now supporting the green party, to which he reply's (queue dad joke).....

"Figured Id give 'em a shot"

Now let that sink in like I had too!

Damn he's good, and at age 78 Im totally impressed!

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