Well Conditioned Puns

His next VOWEL movement could spell DISASTER.

As one would expect, the conditions were atrocious. Thousands of flies buzzed them constantly. As one frog continuously lamented their predicament, the other was snapping up flies with a big grin on his face. This went on for months, until finally, the first frog snapped. "We've been in the God forsaken prison for months!! We have no idea when or if we're going to be released, and you sit there eating flies with that stupid smile on your face!!! WTF, dude??!".

The second frog looks at him and says......"well, times fun when you're having flies". (A play on "Time flies when you're having fun").

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 while ago, my daughter told me she was into fan fiction. I told her I used to be as well, but I changed to air conditioner fiction... because it was cooler.

She was not amused.

I have now created a subreddit called r/AirConditionerFiction

If you have the time and the desire, drop by and leave a short work of fiction regarding air conditioning. If this is successful, I will give my daughter a link and wait to see her facial expression. I will also prepare for being put in a less-then-stellar retirement home.

Being tired and weary, the lawyer-onion isn't sure whether to go, but decides he needs cheering up.

So he dresses smartly, puts on his favorite aftershave and heads over to his friend's.

He gets to the party to find it quite a packed affair and heads over to the bar - fighting through crowds of reveller-onions - to get a drink.

As he gets to the bar, he notices in one corner a slightly out-of-place female onion.

She looks a bit sad and being the compassionate onion that he is, he heads over to talk to her.

This is quickly affirmed as a good move, as they hit it off immediately; she was abandoned by her friends shortly after arriving and had been minding her own business ever since, but over a night of drinks and talking, they quickly fall into an infatuation and soon end up spending an oniony night of passion together.

When they awake in the morning, they don't find it awkward and a steady relationship between the two is struck.

This lasts a good while, having its ups and downs like any college relationship, but eventually the day comes when they both graduate.

The two couldn't be happier!

They both get jobs close to one another and move into an apartment together.

One day, the partner-onion is anxiously awaiting the lawyer-onion at home.

She's been ill all day and checking has confirmed her suspicions.

She tearfully - and joyfully - breaks the news to the lawyer-onion; they're going to have a tiny baby-onion together.

A shallot, if you will.

A few days later, this prompts the lawyer-onion to propose to his heretofore girlfriend-onion.

They are soon wed, having a fantastic wedding-day and husband and wife-onions are on top of the world.

The day comes of the birth and no complications - a tiny, healthy baby onion is born to two proud parents.

Seeing this little bundle of oniony love in their arms causes them to fall deeper in love than ever.

Over the next few years, husband-and-wife-onions' lives are fantastic.

He's prospering at work, she's really enjoying taking some time to raise the baby-onion and over time the baby-onion grows into a hale and hearty toddler-onion, who then becomes a child-onion.

One day, the idyll of the onions' lives is shattered when tragedy strikes.

The lawyer-onion (now a partner-onion in a prestigious law firm due to chance and hard work) is at work, and mother-onion is washing dishes and watching her child play in the yard.

She glances away to take another plate and turns her vision back to

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

A little boy named Tom was approaching his 3rd birthday, and absolutely adored the show "Tractor Tom", partially because of his name being spoken, and partially because he loved tractors.

As the day drew nearer, his parents decided to buy him a toy tractor as a gift. The rest of his toys were gone with the wind at this point, as Tom spent all his waking hours playing with this one tractor toy.

Fast forward a few years, and Tom's now approaching his 10th birthday, with his love for tractors intact and intensified. His parents discuss what to get for him, and decide that a ride-on tractor to replace his bike is the best gift they can give him.

Tom absolutely loves the gift, and spends all of his time out of school riding around the neighbourhood while his bike collects dust in the garage.

We come forward a few more years, as Tom approaches his 18th birthday, with an only intensified adoration of tractors. His father pulls him aside on the morning of his birthday, saying "Now son, I know that we've promised you a car, but we know what you really want."

He leads him outside, to a brand new tractor with a bow on it, saying that this is his welcome to adulthood.

Tom is beyond excited, and spends the next few months going everywhere in his tractor - grocery trips, bars, classes, friends' houses.....

Again, a few years later, Tom is driving down a back country road, in the middle of nowhere, with his tractor, in the middle of a storm. The tractor breaks down, and with no air conditioning or any form of modern comforts, Tom is in a miserable mood until someone finally comes past for him to flag down for help. After this, Tom realises that although tractors are fun, maybe they're not the best transport method out there.

Tom ages through a few more years, and finds himself driving down another road in the middle of nowhere in his car, and sees a house on fire just off the road. Being a good samaritan, he pulls over and heads up the driveway to a woman running out of the house screaming "Please, help, help! My baby is trapped in there! Go and call 911, please!"

Tom turns around, then, before leaving, has a brainwave.

He turns back and walks towards the flames, saying "Don't worry, ma'am, I've got this."

He takes a deep breath in, and the fire disappears into nothingness. As you'd expect, the woman is in awe, and asks, "Oh my God, how did you do that?!"

Tom simply responds, "Well you see ma'am, I'm an extractor fan."

Boyfriend and I went to Portillo's (Italian Beef sandwich place in Chicago) and ordered sammies.

While we were eating, I started a story with the phrase, "so, I kind of have a beef with..."

He pauses, looks down at my now-empty sandwich wrapper and responds with,

"well, you had a beef..."

Also, I've stopped asking him to call my phone when I misplace it because I'm tired of the "what do you want me to call it?" response.

Boy and I have been together for...8 months or so, dad-jokes only got super frequent recently - men of /r/dadjokes - is this a condition that occurs after several months of dating? Please help.

:)

Well, that seals the deal!

It got a good laugh out of me. Photo here for the curious.

"How do they make Budweiser?" "Well, Budweiser is made partly from rice and uses forced carbonation, whereas most craft beer is made from barley and the carbonation comes from bottle conditioning." "No. They send him to school."

Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.

The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...

ahem...

Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.

Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.

Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.

The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.

That's the theory, at least.

Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.

Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out

Two high school students named Steve and Josh found themselves broke on a saturday afternoon while strolling around in the city mall. They hadn't eaten lunch and they were getting hungry, but alas, they had no money for food and they were hours away from home.

"I heard there's a place downtown where you can get a sandwich for free" Steve said to Josh.

"That sounds great, let's check it out" Josh replied, and they headed downtown.

They soon found the place. It was a small shop, too small to feel like a real business. The place had no tables or chairs, and not really much furniture at all. An old man stood behind a small counter and eyed them as they entered.

"Welcome to the Laughing Hoagie" he said.

"What is a laughing hoagie?" Josh wondered.

"It's the name of this sandwich place. This is not a regular sandwich shop. We have a special offer here for people who can't afford to pay for their food." the man said as he smiled a toothy smile at them.

"So it's true then," Josh blurted out, "we can get free food here?"

"Not so fast." The old man said. "There is a condition."

"What is it?" Steve wondered aloud.

"Well," the man started "you have to listen to one of my jokes, and the one of you who laughs the most genuine laugh gets a free sandwhich. The other one gets nothing."

As he said this, the old man opened a small refrigerator that stood behind the counter and produced a large, footlong sandwhich with ham, cheese, bacon, lettuce and tomatoes. It was covered in a white dressing and gave off a faint peppery aroma. The boys' mouths started watering at the sight of it.

"What? So only one of us gets a sandwhich?" Steve asked, taken aback.

"Those are the rules," the old man grinned, "if you don't like it, you may leave."

"Nah, we'll hear the joke." Josh said. Steve looked at him, and then nodded to the old man.

"All right." the old man rubbed his hands together as if preparing to dig into a strenuous task.

"What did the mother Buffalo say when her boy left for college?" he asked, and looked expectantly at the teens. They both stared at him with blank expressions.

"Bye Son!" he exclaimed, and struggled not to burst out giggling at his own quip. Josh chuckled a bit, but Steve just frowned.

"That was the worst joke I ever heard!" he exclaimed.

"Well," the old man said as he handed the sandwich over to Josh, "if you don't like jokes with really bad punchlines, then this sub is not for you."

My classroom has air conditioning, but it only kicks in on warm days like today. When my fifth graders came in this morning, a couple immediately started complaining. "It's freezing in here!"

I had been waiting for this opportunity all year! I pointed to the corner of the room. "Well, if you're cold, you can go stand over there. The corner is 90º!"

The best part was the chorus of incredulous students shouting "really?!" who then went over to investigate. It wasn't until they pointed out that the temperature was same over there that they realized they had been duped.

Credit to u/echonight . This is a cross post from r/askreddit

There are two identical twin brothers that live together. One happens to be a well-respected dentist, and the other can't seem to keep a job. Instead of actively looking for work, he likes to sit around at home. One Saturday, the dentist is hungry, and puts his brother on the spot. He tells him to get off his lazy behind and go get them some food. After some protest, the lazy brother takes the car and leaves for the store. In the meantime, the dentist takes a nap on his day off. He turns off his phone so he won't be interrupted.

About 30 minutes later, the lazy brother gets into a head-on collision in the intersection by the grocery store. His vital signs are fading; he's unconscious and barely moving. An ambulance picks him up and rushes him to the hospital. He ends up in the Emergency Room under observation, but his condition is critical. They try calling his dentist brother, but he doesn't pick up because his phone is off.

The dentist wakes to a knock on the door. Suspecting a solicitor, he ignores it, but the knocking continues. Eventually, he resolves to get up and yell at the person at the door. When he does, he reveals--- the grim reaper. He is just as he appears in movies; a full skeleton underneath a tattered cloak.

The grim reaper swears. "Oh no! This always happens with identical twins".

"What do you mean?" asks the dentist.

"Well... if you must know, your brother was in a critical car accident, and I've come to take him to the underworld. I'm afraid his time on Earth has ended. I'll take my leave now."

The dentist is noticeably upset. He says "Wait! Isn't there some way I can challenge you for my brother's life? After all, YOU made the mistake. Certainly there must be a way I can bargain for his life."

The grim reaper asks "What do you have in mind?"

The dentist thinks. "How about a challenge? If I beat you, you let my brother go free."

The grim reaper laughs. "I will beat you in any challenge. What challenge do you propose?"

The dentist smiles. "I propose we see who has the cleanest teeth. 5 minute of brushing each, then we decide."

"Very well" says the grim reaper, who makes his way to the bathroom.

Once there, he pulls back his tattered cloak to reveal his skull. It's glistening. He takes a toothbrush from the bathroom, loads it with toothpaste, and brushes. After 5 minutes, the shiniest teeth anyone has ever seen glisten and make the room bright. The grim reaper gr

She said "How much are they new? I don't want to get you a used one"

"About double the cost, but there's nothing wrong with used if it's in good condition"

"I just don't want to buy you a second-hand one"

"Well that's really silly, I would hope you'd get me one with a second hand"

"ugh..."

I was an ER tech in a fairly busy inner city hospital for a few years. On one unusually slow night, around 3am, I called up to labor and delivery from an outside line. The conversation went like this:

"Labor and Delivery Nancy speaking"

"Hi I have an unusual problem and I am hoping you can help me."

"OK what can I do for you?"

"Well a couple weeks ago my wife and I had a baby boy who was born with an extremely rare condition. You see, he was born without eyelids."

"Oh my goodness!"

"Yes. Well at your hospital there they tried a new experimental treatment. They used the foreskin from his circumcision to create eyelids for him. Have you heard about this procedure?"

"OH MY GOD! No! I haven't!"

"Well everything was going great and he seemed to be healing well but when he woke up this morning, he looked a little cockeyed..."

"..........."

"COCKEYED!"

<click>

HI I’m Tim the turtle, yes a real turtle. And I would like to tell you the story of my best friend. I once had a friend by the name of Sam. Sam of course was a clam. A real live honest to goodness clam. He was my best buddy, but unfortunately he smoked and drank and ran around with loose women (and a few men). I was more of the goodie two shoes type. I never drank, never smoked, I didn’t even swear. But for some reason Sam and I were the best of friends. I guess you can say we were the epitome of opposites attracting. One day as we were hanging out walking along the beach Sam, after his fifth cigarette in a row, had a heart attack and died. I was heart broken. My best friend died right there in front of me and he never repented his evil ways. I was sure he would spend eternity in damnation. Sigh. Being the goodie two shoes type I was still extremely healthy well into my old age. I missed my friend terribly for many years. On his birthday I would host a party and invite his old stripper girlfriends and poker buddies around to relive stories. It was always a fun evening, but in the end left me more lonely than before. Eventually, my broken heart couldn’t stand it anymore and I too died. I was pleased to find that there was a heaven. Being an almost saint I was whisked directly past the line to the Pearly Gates to be greeted by St. Peter. A big grin erupted on his face and he came right around his desk to give me a great big hug. “Tim”, he said, “You have been such a good person back on earth that God has asked me to grant you any wish you would like before even entering heaven”. To say I was flabbergasted is an understatement. I thought for a minute, I guess God expected me to ask for more time on earth, but I knew what I really wanted to do was to visit with my old friend Sam. So I asked. Poor St. Peter didn’t know what to say. You know Sam is in Hell right? Well I knew that was a strong possibility so I wasn’t surprised. Peter excused himself for a while and went to check with the big guy himself. He was gone quite some time, but eventually he returned. Peter said my request was approved, but under a few conditions. First, I would have to carry a golden harp as a passport back into heaven. This harp could only be carried by a good soul so I couldn’t be replaced by a look alike demon. Second, I would have to return by midnight. God didn’t want me to face too much temptation. I agreed to these conditions and took the highway down to hell. (Nope n

I work at a place that makes shakes. Had a bit of a spill one day of a certain green-colored one. My manager looks over and says, "Well, at least the counter's still in mint condition."

I didn't come up with this but its been flying around reddit for a while...

A day before his 15th birthday, the son of a wealthy family was asked by his father, `Well my son, what would you like for your birthday?' The son hesitated a moment and his father's thoughts leapt ahead to a new computer and similar things. However, his son had had a new computer only recently and could have a new one any time he wished.

Finally, the son said, `Father, I have everything a boy could wish for, but there is one thing I would really like. I would love to have a pink ping pong ball.'

The father was rather astonished at this wish, but said, `If it is a pink ping pong ball that you want, a pink ping pong ball you shall have.'

And so, the next day, the son was given as his bithday present a pink ping pong ball.

The boy took the ball to his room and the next morning the pink ping pong ball was gone. The father was mildly surprised but decided not to say anything. The pink ping pong ball, however, was never seen again.

The next year, a day before his 16th birthday, the father asked his son what he would like for his birthday.

Father,' replied the son,I have everything a boy could possibly wish for, but there is one thing I would really, really like. I would love to have a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'

The father was more surprised than the year before, but kept his curiosity at bay, for he knew that his son had a right for privacy. he said therefore, `If it is a tenpack of pink ping pong balls that you want, a tenpack of pink ping pong balls you shall have.'

And so, the next day, the son was given as his birthday present a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.

The boy took the tenpack of balls to his room and the next morning, not a single ball remained, merely the empty husk of the tenpack. The father wondered where ten pink ping pong balls might disappear to, but decided not to say anything. The pink ping pong balls, however, were never seen again.

The next year, a day before his 17th birthday, the son was asked by his father what he would like for his birthday.

Father,' said the son to this,I have everything a boy could wish for, but one thing would make my happiness complete. I would dearly want a carton of pink ping pong balls.'

The father was beyond surprise, but decided to make sure he had not misheard. `A carton of pink ping pong balls?'

`A carton of pink ping pong balls,' the boy confirmed.

I can't understand your fascination with pink ping pong balls

So for reference, I got into the one dorm in my university that somehow doesn't have air conditioning. My dad was talking about the logistics of bringing one or even two fans + an AC unit to keep my room fine. He then says... well at that point you'll have enough fans to start a fan club.

My mum accidently made a brilliant unintended joke earlier.

Me: I hope classical and operant conditioning comes up on paper 2

Mum: What's that again?

Me: well classical has Pavlov's case study, do you remember?

Mum: oh yeah that's ringing a bell