Well Hung Puns

Dead

TLDR - I'd like to figure out how to work in "well hung" into my wood sign business name.

I'm up and running in a specific genre (sort of crass, inappropriate, edgy sayings, quotes, etc) and "well hung" works great as it fits well on both ends - edgy vibe I'm going for, and also...they are signs that need to be hung...well. I'd like a domain name that's available and well hung dot com an any others I've tried are all taken.

Only other aspect that could (optionally) be worked in would be anything to do with the fact that I use reclaimed , recycled, throw-away wood for all my projects to do my little part in cutting down on the enormous underutilization and total waste of wood that's happening everyday in America. I suppose if I have to I could drop the "well hung" thing and go that way if I like it more.

Suggestions?

“Why so cheap?” she asked the pet store owner. The owner said, “Well, this bird used to live in a brothel, and occasionally it says some pretty vulgar stuff.” The woman thought about this, but decided that for $50, she just had to have the bird.

She took the bird home, hung the cage up in the living room, and waited for it to say something. The bird looked around the room, then at her, and said, “New house, new madam.” The woman was a bit shocked at the implication, but then thought “Meh… That's really not so bad” and laughed it off.

When her two teenage daughters got home from school, the bird saw them and said, “New house, new madam, new girls!!!” The girls and the woman were a bit offended, but then laughed about the situation – considering how and where the parrot had been raised.

A few moments later, the woman’s husband got home from work. The bird looked at him and said, “New house, new madam, new girls, welcome back Keith!!!”

Qso there's a far-off place that consists of a perfectly triangular lake surrounded by land, with three kingdoms on the three sides of the lake, the first kingdom is rich and powerful, filled with wealthy. prosperous people, the second kingdom is more humble, but has its fair share of wealth and power, too. the third kingdom is struggling and poor, and barely has an army

the kingdoms eventually go to war over control of the lake, as it's a valuable resource to have, the first kingdom sends 100 of their finest knights, clad in the best armor and each with their own personal squire the second kingdom sends 50 of their knights, with fine leather armor and a few dozen squires of their own. the third kingdom sends their one and only knight, an elderly warrior who has long since passed his prime, with his own personal squire

the night before the big battle, the knights in the first kingdom drink and make merry, partying into the late hours of the night the knights in the second kingdom aren't as well off, but have their own supply of grog and also drink late into the night.

in the third camp, the faithful squire gets a rope and slings it over the branch of a tall tree, making a noose, and hangs a pot from it, he fills the pot with stew and has a humble dinner with the old knight.

the next morning the knights in the first two kingdoms are hung over and unable to fight, while the knight in the third kingdom is old and weary, unable to get up. in place of the knights, the squires from all three kingdoms go and fight the battle lasts long into the night, but by the time the dust settled, only one squire was left standing - the squire from the third kingdom.

and it just goes to show you that the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides.

Some stories have hooks.

This story has a bloody good one.

It's about love—

Or at least marriage.

My marriage.

At heart, it's your typical fish out of water story, but like I said there's a hook.

The hook's in the beginning.

Although it's really the tail end that's most moving—at least now, when our love's drying up.

Understand:

I'm a fisherman, and I caught my wife with another man.

Well, I caught the man first.

I used Craigslist.

But I suppose the details don't really matter. It's enough to know that by the time he was naked in the shed it was too late for him to change his mind.

He broke down easily. He wasn't particularly thick skinned.

That's where the hook came in—

pushed through a fold of flesh on his back.

He wasn't much in the size department, but I didn't intend for him to get hung up on it. Unfortunately, he kept trying to escape, so what choice did I have? Then he seemed quite insecure, so I pierced him with another steel hook just in case.

Like I said:

Bloody good hook.

After he stopped struggling, I took him down and dragged him to my boat. Then we went fishing.

Hold on, though.

I may need to backtrack a little, because you may be wondering how I even knew she was out there.

The answer is: I'd already seen her swimming a few times.

It was love at first sight.

Like many couples nowadays we met on the net.

So back to when I was fishing:

I was in my boat with the Craigslist man with the steel hooks in his back. I had tied a thick rope to one of the hooks, placed the man onto a net, and pushed them both overboard. He splashed and choked, attracting a lot of attention.

I waited for her call.

It came.

She sounded so near to me.

When she swam just close enough to the Craigslist man in the water, I pulled in the net—and there she was: shining, mine to the gills and writhing so enticingly!

I took her ashore.

I placed her in a water tank and told her she would be my wife.

I screwed her—

shut.

For days I watched her bang—

on the glass.

Until one day it happened: the glass cracked, the tank broke open, and with the water she spilled onto the floor.

Now here I am, watching my marriage fall apart.

Her gills are barely stirring.

Her face: dry and still.

It's only her scaly tail that's still gently moving.

I caught my wife with another man. I met her on the net. I thought our love would last forever, but now, listening to her shriek, I realize I was catfished! I wanted to marry a siren—but this thing is nothing

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

"Welcome everyone to Dads Anonymous. Again my name is Bill and you will notice that we have a new member, please welcome Gary -- Can you tell us what brought you to us today?"

"Well I have a very embarrassing confession. It's even hard to get the words out."

Bill reassures him, "We are all dads here and have been meeting for decades, we've been through all the highs and lows, births and deaths, tragedies, we've heard it all. Just tell us what's on your mind son, we are here to support each other."

"Well, a couple months ago, I broke both my legs in a motorcycle accident and couldn't walk, so I let my wife use the lawnmower." He says through the sobs...

Bob, one of the other dads, starts to get pale. "...and she didn't even cut it in a crisp geometric pattern, it was just random..." Bob starts to sweat and get dry heaves. "YOU BASTARD", he screams. "HOW COULD YOU LET THAT HAPPEN." The dads rise and get ready to beat the crap out of Gary, when Bill stands between them and breaks it up.

"Guys! Guys, we all get weak sometimes and things happen outside our control. Doug, you remember when you were in recovering from Chemo and you gave your wife a hammer, and she used it to hammer a roofing nail into the drywall to hang a picture!" Doug, looks down in shame, "Yes, that was a bad day, I was so weak. She missed the stud and left a dent in the wall, and she just hung the picture over it, crooked!" There was dead silence. "Thats ok Doug, it was twenty years ago, you were young and foolish, you can let it go". Then all the dads shook hands and sat back down.

Bill starts the meeting up again. Then Gary says, "..theres one more thing, Right after I got out of the hospital, she wanted to make a special dinner for us, so I let her grill the steaks..." "OH LORD THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" screams Dave, another dad, his face turning red. Gary continues "...she burnt them one one side and they were dry and chewy." Now there is a bedlam, one dad immediately passes out cold, chairs are thrown, broken bottles, Gary is on the ground being kicked in the ribs. After a few tense minutes Bill managed to get the dads off of Gary. "Stop it, Dave you're killing him. Come on, you remember that time you let your wife go to the repair shop for an oil change?" Dave hung his head, and muttered yeah. "They convinced her to change the cabin filter, wiper blades and the radiator collant..." Bill kept prodding "and, aaand" ...Dave broke down, "and she bought a jug of blinker fluid!" T

So I’m well hung.

He’s well hung

I once had a job in a t-shirt factory. Every day, t-shirts would come down the line, and using this big rubber stamp, I’d apply a handful of dots to them, at random, to just given them a general design that wasn’t blank t-shirt. It was soul sucking, but it paid the bills.

However, I kept running into a problem. I wasn’t applying the dots fast enough. It was a mental thing - I’d get hung up on where should I apply the next dot so it doesn’t look bad, etc. But one of the guys who’d been there longer than I had gave me a piece of advice. He told me to cross to my eyes. That way, I could just kinda zone out and hit the t-shirt a few times randomly without paying much attention to where exactly I was applying the dots. It worked like magic.

Well eventually I was getting ready to leave the factory and they had me train my replacement. It only took one day. I left him with one piece of advice. I told him not to get too hung up on the specific details but just to make sure he dotted his tees and crossed his eyes.

I guess you could say I'm well hung.

Well hung

My cube-mate was standing on a stool in his office and commenting how awesome it was to be so tall. Everyone was cracking jokes, and I asked, "Hey, do you suppose I could get a sample to try out?"

"... A stool sample?"

The other coworkers got it and laughed, and the one standing on the stool just laughed with us but apparently didn't get it, because a minute later he then hung his head and started laughing as well.

One of my proudest achievements at work!

Mom hangs up ornament on tree different ornament falls Mom: "My god this was not hung properly!" Dad: "Well at least I'm hung properly"

So yesterday I had vision correction surgery and on the ride home my mom called. My dad answered it via the car phone and my mom was asking how it went and all that. The conversation went as follows:

Mom: Hi how are you doing? How's Phil?

Dad: Hi we are good. He was in and out in about 20 minutes and they gave him a CD with only one track on it as part of the recovery package.

Mom: Really? What for?

Dad: Just to ease the anxiety he may experience shortly after the surgery. It's the song I can see clearly now.

My mom proceeded to crack up over the phone and I think she accidentally hung up as well. My girlfriend and I were laughing hysterically as well.

Knowing my dad, he couldn't wait to drop that one.

so there’s a far-off place that consists of a perfectly triangular lake surrounded by land, with three kingdoms on the three sides of the lake. the first kingdom is rich and powerful, filled with wealthy, prosperous people. the second kingdom is more humble, but has its fair share of wealth and power, too. the third kingdom is struggling and poor, and barely has an army.

the kingdoms eventually go to war over control of the lake, as it’s a valuable resource to have. the first kingdom sends 100 of their finest knights, clad in the best armor and each with their own personal squire. the second kingdom sends 50 of their knights, with fine leather armor and a few dozen squires of their own. the third kingdom sends their one and only knight, an elderly warrior who has long since passed his prime, with his own personal squire.

the night before the big battle, the knights in the first kingdom drink and make merry, partying into the late hours of the night. the knights in the second kingdom aren’t as well off, but have their own supply of grog and also drink late into the night.

in the third camp, the faithful squire gets a rope and slings it over the branch of a tall tree, making a noose, and hangs a pot from it. he fills the pot with stew and has a humble dinner with the old knight.

the next morning, the knights in the first two kingdoms are hung over and unable to fight, while the knight in the third kingdom is old and weary, unable to get up. in place of the knights, the squires from all three kingdoms go and fight. the battle lasts long into the night, but by the time the dust settled, only one squire was left standing - the squire from the third kingdom.

and it just goes to show you that the squire of the high pot and noose is equal to the sum of the squires of the other two sides