A list of puns related to "Way Up High"
He raised the bar.
My 6-year-old son made me proud! He asked me, “Dad, do you want me to bring you joy?” I gave him a puzzled look. He brought back a Christmas decoration that I had overlooked putting away, a 12” high wooden stand-up word, “J O Y.“ He brought me joy in more ways than one! He’s a chip off the old block. 😀
Save them to your Phone and always have witty jokes at the palm of your hand.
3.14 percent of sailors are pi-rates.
5/4 of people admit they’re bad at fractions.
A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.
A brain walks into a bar and takes a seat. “I’d like some wings and a pint of beer, please,” it says. “Sorry, but I can’t serve you,” the bartender replies. “You’re out of your head.”
A cheeseburger walks into a bar. The bartender says, 'Sorry, we don't serve food here.'
A college education now costs $100,000, but it produces three very proud people: the student, his mama, and his pauper.
A couple of cups of yogurt walk into a country club. “We don’t serve your kind here,” the bartender says. “Why not?” one yogurt asks. “We’re cultured.”
A friend of mine didn’t pay his exorcist. He got repossessed.
A friend of mine is known for sweeping girls off their feet. He’s an extremely aggressive janitor.
A guy walks into a bar, and there’s a horse serving drinks. The horse asks, “What are you staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a horse tending bar before?” The guy says, “It’s not that. I just never thought the parrot would sell the place.”
A guy walks into a bar...and he was disqualified from the limbo contest.
A pirate walks into a bar with a paper towel on his head. The bartender says, “What’s with the paper towel?” The pirate says, “Arrr! I’ve got a Bounty on me head!”
A turtle is crossing the road when he’s mugged by two snails. When the police ask him what happened, the shaken turtle replies, “I don’t know. It all happened so fast.”
Armed robbers—some say they’re a drain on society, but you’ve got to give it to them.
Barbers…you have to take your hat off to them.
Can February March? No, but April May!
Cooking out this weekend? Don’t forget the pickle. It’s kind of a big dill.
Dad, can you put my shoes on? No, I don't think they'll fit me.
Dad, can you put the cat out? I didn't know it was on fire.
Dad, did you get a haircut? No, I got them all cut!
Dad: Did you hear about the kidnapping at school? Son: No. What happened? Dad: The teacher woke him up.
Daughter: I have a lot of friends named Nathan. There’s Nathan Miller, Nathan Radcliff, Nathan Lewis… Me: When they are together, do you call them the United Nathans?
Dear Math, grow up and solve your own problems.
Did I tell you the time I fell in love during a backflip? I was heels over head!
Did you hear about the aquatic sea mammals that escape
... keep reading on reddit ➡One cold, snowy Minnesota night, I got lost on the way home. The snow was blowing so fast and piling up so high, I couldn't see any street signs. With no map in my car and a dead cell phone, I thought I might be stranded so I pulled over to the side of the road.
Then breaking through the flurries, I saw the headlights of a plow truck in my rearview mirror. Thanking my lucky stars, I turned in and followed the truck, hopeful that it would lead me back somewhere I recognized.
I followed that truck for what felt like hours. He turned left, I'd turn left. He'd swing to the right, and I was right on his tail. After a while, I saw brake lights from the plow, followed by four-way flashers. The plow had stopped, and I saw the driver get out and approach my car. I rolled down the window to talk to him.
"Why are you following me, kid?" the plow driver asked.
"Well sir, my dad told me if I was ever lost in a snowstorm, I should wait for a plow truck and then follow it."
"Well," said the plow driver. "I just finished clearing the Target parking lot. Want to follow me over to Best Buy??"
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 ➡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
... keep reading on reddit ➡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, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.
“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”
“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.
“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”
“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”
His students registered dismay and anguish.
“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.
“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.
“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”
Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi
... keep reading on reddit ➡Somewhere, Over the Rainbow, way up high, (singing voice)
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
I say Middle Eastern cuz I honestly forget if he's Iraqi or Iranian. We were getting to know each other, and I asked him to tell me a fable from his country of origin. It went like this:
Ali: In (the town he grew up in), there is a tower. A very very tall tower, many stories high, with only stairs. And legend says that if you climb all the way to the very top...
(pause)
Me: What happens?
Ali: completely straight face You will get very dizzy.
That was it. I thought it was hilarious.
While in high school, Dana White met and fell in love with David Wong. After a few months the couple decided to get married. Dana insisted on getting married at sunset on the ocean on a yacht. The big day finally arrived and both families joined together to head out for the wedding. The captain of the yacht, checked the weather and saw a storm brewing. He advised the party it was not safe to travel out, but Dana and David both insisted they were going to get married on the ocean at sunset, so everyone loaded up and the boat departed. Sure enough just as the captain was performing the ceremony the storm hit, and the boat capsized killing everyone aboard. The next day the head of the the NTSB, Mr. Perry made this statement. It was a stormy night. So many Wong's and Whites. Neither would change their headstrong ways. The sea was in a rage. The captain turned the page. Their dying wasn't worth what they paid.
For reference: Link to wiki
Some of these are done in a kind of "news headline"-style:
Choir leader fired after using too much sexual innuendo; "Lewd Ex Cantor."
Video on demand about a street where nothing happens; "Vod of the Boring Alley."
Man's brutal cousin turns out to be a great bloke; "Raw-Ted, Great Dude".
Panic spreads as toilet facilities take over the world; "Cry! Stall-Age."
A man orders a book of basic letters to look after his daughters belongings while he looks after the others; "ABC, Watch Her's!".
Sams brother cheats a dude; "Dean Cons the Peep."
A ride in the amusement park offers a wide range of emotions; "High! Low! Woo! Nah."
A weird and hard to describe new dessert; "Cold Lemon Thing."
A new star in stand up rises! Come see "Puntiff Sulyvahn."
Pirates start eating fava beans and a new drink is required; "Yo! Ho! The Chianti!."
A Long lived man has an unusual apetite for fish; "Old-Rick, Devourer of Cods".
In Bacteria-Town, a devastating disease strikes one inhabitant working at a hotel; "Cancer of the Borrelia Valet".
Roman god Cubid is ordered to take a woman to cave and kill her; "Drag and Slay Her Amor"
Osiris's statue has been in way too many marriages and people have started to call it; "Osiris the Consummated Thing."
The choir leader from before is transformed into a mushroom; "Champignon Cantor"
An english man becomes the leader of a Polish airplane company and gets nicknamed; "LOT-Rick"
An impatient tree person attacks a random mythical hunter; "Antsy Ent! Why Hern?!"
Horse named Elvis keeps making noise and a man shouts;"Neigh Less King!"
A child opens a chocolate egg and a white spirit jumps out; "Soul of Kinder"
Sorry about the possible typos.
In the late '60s the government was developing ARPANET and the developers were trying to find a way for users on the system to communicate with each other.
The scientists involved came up with an electronic messaging system that they called the Tickle.
Tickles could be used to send important code updates, meeting invitations, or even just little jokes all along the network.
The DOD heard about these Tickles and asked for a briefing to determine their military potential. At a high-level meeting of generals and admirals, the lead developer presented the Tickle concept.
The ranking General asked for a demonstration and the lead scientist said "Sure, I'll send you a test Tickle."
And that's how E-mail was born.
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":
There are three classes of cheerios, the lower class (plain ol' cheerios), the middle class cheerios (frosted), and the elite class (honey nut). One soggy morning in Seattle, a plain cheerio awoke in his single room apartment. He looked out at the still sleepy city, blanketed in a mist of rain. He quickly got dressed and put his shoes on, this would be the day. He stood propped against the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. "God I have got to stop this habit." He thought to himself. Glancing back and forth at the bustle of cheerios, he saw her. She looked about 25, devastatingly gorgeous, and he could smell the honey from where he stood. "Excuse me ma'am," his voice quivered, "I - I think you might be the most beautiful cheerio I have ever seen." She smiled and her otherwise golden brown face grew red. " This is a long shot, but will you marry me?' She was obviously caught off guard by this, but her red lips formed the word, "Yes." They raced through the morning mist of the city, and arrived at her fathers house. The cheerio bent down in front of her father. "Sir, I would like to ask for your blessing in marrying your daughter" "No! You are a regular cheerio and my daughter needs a high quality honey nut" he snapped. "But sir." "No means no damnit!" "Sir this is very unrea-" "You come back a honey nut and you'll have my blessing, my daughter is not about to marry a low life like you." The cheerio sprinted home, tears streaming down his face. He fumbled against the lock and sprawled out on his bed. When he awoke it was early, his sheets had a dark silhouette from his wet jacket. He sat up and lit a cigarette. "Damn." he sighed to himself. Walking in front of his mirror, he noticed something different. His body was frosted! He had become a frosted cheerio! He darted out the door without shoes, reaching the honey nut household in no time at all. He banged on the door, and the beauty's father answered. "Sir I am a changed cheerio! I'm frosted!" he exclaimed. Her father had a stern look on his face. "You think you are any better? The dirt on my boots are worth more than you." he hissed. The old honey nut slammed the door on the young frosted. He heard the deadbolt click. The newly frosted cheerio didn't take the same way home. He stood on the edge of a bridge, feeling the cool autumn wind on his sugar coated skin. Was he really going to go through with this? Was it worth it? No he was a frosted cheerio now. He couldn't get the girl, but he was a changed cheerio. He
... keep reading on reddit ➡My friend had a really interesting job. One of those jobs you didn't know people could get.
tl;dr just read it, it's worth reading the whole description of the job
Before I moved, my neighbor's job was based in Antarctica. He worked with one of the research centers there, and his job was standing up penguins. I kid you not — when shipments arrived by air, like by helicopter or by airplane or whatever, the penguins would all look up with their tiny heads and look up so high they would fall over backwards. Now, penguins are super awkward in how they waddle everywhere, and so, not wanting to disturb the local environment, the research station had to have someone that could suit up and go out there and stand up penguins.
As soon as every shipment arrived, he would say, "Welp, better go suit up now," get into the whole penguin suit, and waddle out there all incognito and stand the penguins on their feet again. I'm sure they could have done it on their own, eventually, but the idea was to disturb the animals for as little time as possible.
I thought it was the most ridiculous thing when he told me, but he got the job through his dad's researcher colleague. Basically, the deal was they would get people to go down for 3-month periods (I think he ended up doing 6 months) and this was his occupation for that time. Actually, is plane flight there was one of the really cool parts: LA went to Sydney, which then went back across the Pacific to Buenos Aires. Then, on the final leg, he would finally go Buenos Aires to the research station. The planes actually had to be specially fitted for the job, though — Of course, you can't have typical runways in Antarctica because they'd get ice all over them and there'd be all these problems — so the planes had to have mechanics on board each flight who would, mid-flight, switch out the take-off wheels for the landing skis. Just like a sea plane, except it was a snow-plane. Coolest thing ever.
Oh, but the way he described working with the penguins was the best! Most of the time he'd just go out and stand them up, but sometimes one would hurt itself. Like one time one of them fell over backwards and hit its foot the wrong way, so he had to not only pick it up, but give medical help, too. He seriously had to prop up the penguin, take off his glove, and pull on each of the penguins little webbed toes, pull on their legs. Sort of like how I'm pulling your leg right now.
Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.
The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.
Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.
For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.
On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.
Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.
Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken
... keep reading on reddit ➡Earlier today I accompanied my dad to the grocery store. Eventually, my dad made his way to the deli in the store and ordered two pounds of bologna. When he was rung up, his total was almost 3 dollars. I don't eat bologna, but I presumed that was high when my dad suddenly exclaimed, "That's a bunch of baloney!" and chuckled to himself. My conformist dad bought it anyways.
A friend of mine had a teacher in high school that, like many others, would write notes on the overhead or the whiteboard and, like many others, would end up standing in in the way of the text sooner or later.
If a student would ask "Mr. ____, can you move?" implying that they need him to move out of the way of their view of the text, he'd reply "Yes, I can!" and jump up and down in place, flailing his arms.
When I was in high school, I babysat 2 boys (who at the time of this story, were aged 7 and 10) for some extra cash. One day I was eating dinner with the family when the younger brother said that he couldn't wait to be in the fourth grade like his older brother.
"It's not that great," said the older one. "Once you're in the fourth grade, you have to read a bunch of books for a summer reading log and write a report on one." (In my county, there are mandatory summer assignments, the most common ones are English assignments.)
Their dad said, "Summer projects are good! They help stimulate your brain over the summer! If you don't brush up on your education for those three months, you could lose all of your smartness and never get it back!"
Older brother: "Yeah right. And how did you find that out?"
Me: "Well, they do say that firsthand experience is the best way to learn."
My 10 month old was sitting in her high chair and twisting and moving all over the place. My wife looked at me and told me to "Straighten her up"
I looked at her and said "What are you doing with your life? Do you want to be this way forever? It's time to grow up."...
My wife hasn't asked me to do anything since.
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