Can’t say I’m surprised.
You take away her blanket
It gave me thesaurus throat I've ever had.
I don't even want to imagine what'll happen when he leaves the house.
The rabbit says, “I think I might be a typo.”
A Latitude.
My mouth writes Czechs that my body can't cache.
She must have thought I said 'wear the fox hat'
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
... keep reading on reddit ➡My professor and I were emailing about the final project I had recently submitted when I decided to take the time to thank her for being so helpful. Professors that make classes easier to understand and add a little humor to their lectures deserve all the praise in the world, and mine was no exception to that. This was also my first class that wasn't a general education course, starting me on an MIS degree.
I emailed her saying something along the lines of,
"Thanks for being so helpful throughout the semester, this was my first MIS class and you really gave me the confidence I needed in knowing I was doing it right."
I followed with "Thanks for making this class so interesting, I will be transferring to (insert new college here) to continue earning my MIS degree. I think it's safe to say you influenced my decision to a certain degree. Hah! Certain degree, get it?"
She called me over after next lecture to tell me how bad my pun was while groaning and chuckling. No regrets.
I said it was needed to catch the etherbunny. He gave me a verbal warning... :/
After several fruitless attempts at trying to get us to say "hormones," he cracks this one:
"What noise comes out of a brothel?
Whore-moans!"
Me: Verbally. But I’ve also prepared a dance.
Fsh.
Spoonerism: a verbal error in which a speaker accidentally transposes the initial sounds or letters of two or more words, often to humorous effect.
MahKneeeee
This had my family shaking their head and groaning all through the holidays. It's more of a verbal joke I admit.
He was prepping his GRE and I noticed he had a book on word comparisons and grammar, pretty much like those SAT questions in the verbal section. My response after he commented on how reading it has improved his language skills:
"My vocabulary is awful, for lack of a better word."
The resulting groan was glorious.
Oh boy do I have a joke for you kids! Its called the cheerio joke.
So there is this land called cheerio land and in cheerio land there are 7 classes of cheerio, 0-5 and the frosted cheerios. Now there is this level 0 cheerio. Hes homeless, living out on the street, probaly an alchoholic. But he falls in love with a frosted cheerio princess. So one day he sneaks into the royal gala and goes up to the princess and asks her "will you marry me?" Now she says "I like your style, youre a good looking guy, a bit scruffy but I like you. Tell you what I will marry you if you can become a frosted cheerio" So our guy goes back with a determination and gets a job and starts to pay off his debts. Now by having a job and his debts paid he becomes a level 1 cheerio. So he works, and he works, and he works, and he WORKS and he finally becomes a level 2 cheerio. Now he goes back to the princess and askes her again, "will you marry me?" she says "no honey you really do have to become a frosted cheerio first." So he goes back and he works and works, hes a fryboy at McGrubers or something, I dont care. So he works and he works and he gets promoted at the restraunt and is making more money. And he works and he works and he works and by having that income raise he finally becomes a level 3 cheerio. He feels sucessful for the first time in his life but he is starting to fall back on his old ways. One day he goes to the casino and he loses and he loses and he loses and he gambled all his money away and he gets fired to boot because gambling is against company policy. So he is back down to a level 1 cheerio. He gets a job on a production line at a nearby factory and determines himself not to fall back ever again. So he works and he works and he works and he works and he WORKS, level 2, level 3, and he is doing great again. He is promoted to Floor manager of the factory and he is doing great and becomes a level 4 cheerio. But then one day a rival company sabotages their operation by putting poison in their toothpaste or whatever the hell they were making. They have to pay out damages and PR and the like and they declare bankruptcy. He is knocked back down to level 2 for the lack in income. But he is hired almost straight away by a branch of a huge conglomerate because they recognized how hard of a worker he is. So he works, level 3, works, level 4, and he works and works and WORKS. So he is promoted t
... keep reading on reddit ➡Since when can do we have the capability to verbally communicate
Verbally
Hello fathers and fellow lovers of dadjokes! I am in need of your collective wit. You see, my friends did not get the hint that it was a bad idea to do this last time, and yet have foolishly asked me to house sit for them again. I've decided to prank them again (because I'm a wonderful friend), and this time I am turning their house into a house of puns. I need puns I can practically make. Here are a couple examples:
"While you guys were out I think your milk went bad..." draw on milk carton a bandanna, scruff, and a gun tucked into its logo
Move any of their jars in front of their bedroom door.
A map starting from their router.
Things like that. They have a pool, two labs, but otherwise have a pretty standard living arrangement. However, I don't want to mess with their computers as their occupations have some sensitive materials on them.
I struggled with what sub to reach out too with this post, so thank you all who reddit. You're fantastic folk, the lot of you!
When they arrived, a cab driver greeted them at the airport. "What should we do on our first day here," the father asked his son, excitedly. The driver interjected, "Well, if you're not natives, I'd suggest the roller coaster that teaches your or language." Confused, the father and son look at one another then back at their guide. "Trust me," he told them, "It's guaranteed or your money back." Having no plans and now both understandably intrigued, the pair agreed. When they arrived at the roller coaster, they were amazed to behold the giant steel skeleton of the most intricate ride they'd ever seen. It had loops, helixes, corkscrews and drops more terrifying than anything they'd ridden back home. The son quickly rescinded his consent and turned you guys father. "There's no way I'm getting on that thing. You go first," he said, "Then you can tell me if it's worth it." Not wanting to seem a coward, the father accepted. Stepping into the first car, he seated himself. As the attendant approached to check his shoulder restraint, her couldn't help but ask, "So how exactly am I supposed to learn an entire language from a roller coaster?" The attendant smiled and replied simply, "You'll see." Anticipation turned to unease as the cars lurched upward towards the first drop. The seconds felt like hours as the car climbed higher and higher, clicking steadily while the chain pulled it skyward. As the nose of the car tipped downward and he could see the enormous drop below, his inner fear turned verbal. Without thinking he screamed, "minä kuolen!" As he rounded the first turn and into an inverted twist, he debut another exclamation well inside and burst forth. "naida!" He screamed as the ride continued. A few minutes and many foreign-tongued exclamations later, he found himself back at the station trying to catch his breath with the smiling attendant removing his restraints. His ran up to his son and declared, "It really works! I'm not sure how, but it really works!" "How was it?" the son asked unimpressed. "It was a wild ride from start to Finnish." "The son smiled weakly. "Yeah , the cabbie stole our luggage."
At least two other dads there gave me a knowing smile.
When the flight attendant says that she needs a verbal yes from those sitting in the exit aisle if they are willing to participate. I hear this middle aged dad behind me. "Verbal Yes"
When my wife finally asked what I was doing, yelling at a bag of crackers, I explained that the recipe called for 30 crushed crackers.
That happened 2 days ago. By coincidence, we had another recipe for dinner that required crushed crackers, and my wife made sure I understood that it meant physically, not verbally.
So being a /r/dadjokes kind of dad, naturally I told him, "My son, you are just like a drink from Starbucks... you're coffee." (works better verbally or if you're a bad speller).
Back in high school a friend and I had a history class together, and the teacher was giving a difficult verbal quiz about Europe in the 1600's. His turn was coming up.
Friend: leans over to me and whispers "Hey, what was the 30 Years War about?"
Me: whispers back "Uhhh... I think it was about 30 years."
Friend: glare
If you want to be a dad, replace 'public' with 'pubic' in any verbal conversation.
- I'll just call him on a pubic telephone.
- I'm going to ride pubic transport to work today.
- I have a fear of pubic speaking.
Can’t say that I’m surprised.
Can’t say I’m surprised.
