View Point Puns

But I can see where you are coming from.

She asked, "is this the highest point in Thailand?"

I replied, "i don't know, it's up there".

The glances exchanged in that moment were some of my fondest memories of that trip.

No, pie are ROUND, not square...

In case they needed a pair o’ Scope.

The bartender says “Oh hey! I haven’t seen you in forever!”

The blind man says “Same.”

Because it's seafood.

Neighsayers

The mortician asked the deceased’s wife how she would like the body dressed. He points out the man looks good in the black suit he’s already wearing. The widow however said she thought her husband always looked his best in blue, and she would really like him in a blue suit. She then hands the mortician a blank cheque and says “I don’t care how much it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing.” The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe. Remarkably, the suit fit him perfectly. She says to the mortician, “whatever this costs I’m very satisfied, you did an excellent job and I’m incredibly grateful. How much did you spend?” To her astonishment the mortician presents her with her blank cheque, and he says “there’s no charge.” Shocked she replies “no really, I feel like i must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit.” “Honestly ma’am”, the mortician says, “it costs nothing, you see a diseased gentleman about your husbands size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday. He was wearing an attractive blue suit. So I asked his wife if she minded if her husband went to the grave wearing black. She had said it made no difference so long as he looked nice. So from that point on it was really just a matter of switching the heads.”

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

Supposedly it was a sold out tour, fairly apparent considering not a single seat was available on the bus!

At one point we happened to come across a field FULL TO THE BRIM with cows, and so I pleaded the bus driver to stop so we could take it all in.

We disembarked and took our places at the field fence, taking in the view of cow after cow.

I wondered to myself how it was so easy for folk to distinguish between cow and bull so readily, and so voiced my frustrations to the farmer close by.

“Excuse me sir, I’ve looked at your cattle and can’t for the life of me pick out a feature to help tell me the sex!!!!”

The farmer looked at me for a brief moment, painted with concern before asking,

“What about the udders…?”

I shook my head and frowned, and with mounting uncertainty replied,

“Not sure, you’d have to ask them!”

Picture it. June, 1971. London.

Keith Emerson, Greg Lake and Carl Palmer are celebrating the release of their album Tarkus at the Seven Stars Pub.

Very quickly, both ELP and their BACs are riding high.

Nothing can spoil this evening.

Enter King Crimson, their bitter rivals in experimental jazz-fusion symphonic rock.

A chill hits the air, but they manage some level of civility.

Fripp even manages to put aside his seething anger at Lake for defecting to Emerson's new project and stands a round for all.

It's unclear exactly when Hawkwind arrives, but the strained emotions soon give way to genuine cheer and good will.

Lemmy, their basist at the time, could have that effect on people.

Unfortunately, he also later looks directly at Lake, points at Fripp and company and asks, "Waren't you wiv his lot?"

The police report explains that the ensuing fracas lasted for about 30 minutes at caused at least £4,500 (£56,604.93 in 2021, or $78,480.75) in damages, several broken bones and uncounted stiches.

The scrum finally calms down after Peter Gabriel, who was [throwing darts](https://darthelp.com/articles/the-history-of-darts/#:~:text=M

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

Don't be blue, this will be over soon. I don't typically share my political views online, but I am very PROvolone. I think every manchego has a right to choose. Some people may think I am a muenster for this. I am not just some liberal Monterey Jack. If you Havarti another point of view, it's a gouda idea to share it too.

I can never understand their point of view

She said she couldn’t see herself being with me anymore.

The cop who pulled me over, didn't have that point of view

I was doing some stargazing with my telescope Saturday night, since it was a good time to view Uranus. When I was done, I carried my telescope inside and my brother says "What were you looking for?" I made a point to say it like 'Ur-uh-nus'.

Dad walks into the room as I am leaving and asks my brother what I was looking for. Inevitably, my brother replies 'Ur-ay-nus'.

Dad quips to me down the hall: "Leave your brother alone and look for your own!"

So mom and dad have my wife and my kid along with my sister's kid out whale watching and sent us a photo of orcas they saw. This followed...

Me: killer view!
Siss: killer view!
Me: are you thinking the same as me OR CAn you not think of anything unique and are copying me on porpoise
Me: I mean I’m having a whale of a time
Me: Did you FINish?
Me: Does your boat have a motor anD/OR SAIL?
Mom (probably dad's joke tho): You are on a roll
Me: Not sure I have many lines left actually
Me: Actually I’m beginning to waver on that statement
Me: Though it seems siss has bowed out of the conversation.
Me: Maybe she’ll come up with something after I’m done
Me: have you guys SEAn (sic) anything other than orcas?
Mom: Humpback
Me: good day for that!
Wife: Very cool!
Me: Definitely looks chilly
Wife: 20 texts... Wow
Me: Definitely an imPORTant thread to watch
Me: like how i cap-size my text to make the joke obvious?
Me: siss’ silence is fishy tho
Mom: You definitely LANDed them
Me: They just come to me and I let em sail
Me: To admit some are a bit ridockulous
Me: Which can make them tough to catch
Me: but I’ll keep tossing them out there anyway for the few that land
Me: I think we lost the point of the conversation though
Me: Let's coral it back
Me: I'm being far too shellfish by uslurping it like this
Me: But Siss did have the gull to keep repeating me
Me: Buoy that one was bad

edit: formatting

.. and he's wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit. The mortician asks the deceased's wife how she would like the body dressed, pointing out that the man does look good in the black suit he is already wearing. The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked his best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit. She gives the mortician a blank check and says, 'I don't care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing.' The woman returns the next day and to her delight, she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly. She says to the mortician, 'Whatever this cost, I'm very satisfied.. You did an excellent job and I'm very grateful. How much did you spend?' To her astonishment, the mortician presents her with the blank check, 'There's no charge.' 'No, really, I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit,' she says. 'Honestly, ma'am,' the mortician says, 'it cost nothing. You see, a deceased gentleman of about your husband's size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit. I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice.' 'So I just switched the heads.'