Yes To The Dress Puns

Here are a few of my peanut gallery comments to pass the time....

"I'm going to open my own wedding dress store. It's going to be called 'The Tulle Shop'".

"TLC is coming out with a new show that's about buying underwear. It's called 'Say Ja To The Bra'".

"What type of wedding dress did the future wife of the New York Yankee buy? A ball gown."

Indian-themed weddings are also a gold mine because of the "sari" dress. Too many to list here. Stuff along the lines of "I feel sari she has to pick between those two dresses". "She'll be sari if she doesn't pick that dress."....the list goes on and on...

We left without buying anything. Later at dinner: Friend to Bride: "Do you want to go over any dress in particular so they don't all mush together? Kind of a like a debrief?" Me: "Yeah, you don't want to get post-traumatic dress disorder!"

Groans.

A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!

Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.

The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.

They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?

He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.

He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?

There was no punch line.

He slams the door and returns to bed.

"Who was that?" asked his wife.

"Just some drunk guy asking for a push." he answers.

"Did you help him?" she asks.

"No, I did not! It's three in the morning and it's pouring out!"

"Well, you have a short memory." says his wife. "Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down and those two guys helped us? I think you should help him and you should be ashamed of yourself!"

The man does as he is told, gets dressed, and goes out into the pounding rain.

He calls out into the dark, "Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes." comes back the answer.

"Do you still need a push?" calls out the husband.

"Yes, please!" comes the reply from the dark.

"Where are you?" asks the husband.

"Over here, on the swing."

I had a little mishap with a pruning saw in the yard and asked my wife to patch my finger up. She's a nurse, so I figured she'd dress my wound better than I could. She started off with cleaning up the cut with a betadine swab.
Wife: "This might sting a little bit."
Me: Yup. Yup that stings.
Wife: Sing a song. It'll take your mind off of it.
Me: "Roooooxanne, you don't have to put on the red light, Those days are over you don't have to sell your body to the night..."
Wife: sideways look
Me: "Roooooxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight, Walk the streets for money you don't care if it's wrong or if it's right..."
Wife: sideways look
Me: "You know who sings that, right?"
Wife: "Yeah, the Police."
Me: "Who and the Police?"
Wife: "Sting?"
Me: "Yes it does."

So one time there was this kid named Tim. Tim wanted to really wanted to go to the school prom with a girl named Janet. So one day, at school, he walked up to Janet and asked if she wanted to go.

She said yes!

So once she got home she told her mom. Her mom was very excited for her and called all of their family to share the news.

Then, that weekend, Janet and her mom went dress shopping. They looked and tried on several dresses until they found the right one. Janet tried that one on and was very happy.

Meanwhile, Tim needed a tuxedo. He looked online and found a great shop and put in an rental order.

The next week he came in and picked it up. On the way home he picked up a corsage. And once he got home, he ordered a limousine.

The day of Tim put on his tuxedo and grabbed the corsage just as the limo arrived to pick him up. Then the limo took him to Janet's house and her parents took a lot of pictures of the two of them.

Once their parents were finally done taking pictures, they left for the prom.

They bought their tickets and went inside and danced for a while.

And then, Janet asked Tim to get her something to drink. He went to find something, but there was no punch line!

I took my wife to her first OB appointment this morning. After everything was finished, she was getting dressed.

The nurse knocked on the door- "Are you dressed?"

I replied, "Yes." As she opened the door to enter I added "...but I'm not sure about her."

My wife just shook her head.

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

The CIA had changed its recruiting practices, what with all the recent leaks and other problems. So Mr. Johnson was more than a little surprised to see a pine tree, which was dressed in a rather nice suit, waiting outside his office when he arrived at 9 am. He asked his secretary, "Gladys, who is this?"

"Mr. Johnson, this is Mr. Cone, our newest hire. He wanted to talk with you about the Honduras assignment."

Mr. Johnson spoke to Mr. Cone in his office. His new pine tree colleague was very knowledgeable and well-spoken, but there was something about him that threw Mr. Johnson off. He tried to dismiss his concerns as imaginary, but it gnawed at him all through the morning. He barely touched his lunch, as some of the things Mr. Cone had said were still swirling around and around in his mind. He was sure something was wrong, so he went in to see the head of their office branch, Mr. Smith.

"Johnson! Come right in, come right in," said Mr. Smith, puffing on a cigar. Mr. Johnson poured himself a tumbler of whiskey and sipped at it nervously.

"You're being rather quiet today, Johnson. Tell me, what's troubling you?"

"It's just this new guy, Mr. Cone," Mr. Johnson said carefully, staring at the bottom of his whiskey glass. "Are we sure we know him as well as we think we do?"

Mr. Smith took only a small puff from his cigar before letting his hand rest back on his desk. "Now really, Johnson," he sighed, "you're a good agent. Your caution has served you well in the past, but paranoia doesn't look so good on you. Mr. Cone has the most impressive resumé I've seen come across my desk in the last fifteen years. I've personally had him vetted by the best men in the business. He's going to be an asset to this office."

That was the response Mr. Johnson had been afraid of getting, but he continued to press his cause. "I understand that, sir. It's just that I'm getting the strangest feeling from this Cone fellow. Don't you think he's a little too perfect? A little too well-qualified?"

Mr. Smith stopped smoking his cigar altogether. A distant look came into his eyes as he mulled over the possibilities. "You don't suppose--"

"Yes," said Mr. Johnson, "I think he's a plant."

Note: I'm a mom, not a dad, but I'm pretty sure I only thought of this because my father-in-law tortures me with these kinds of stories almost constantly.

The man gets up and goes to the door, where a drunken stranger, standing in the pouring rain, is asking for a push.

"Not a chance!" says the husband. "It's three o'clock in the morning!"

He slams the door and returns to bed.

"Who was that?" asked his wife.

"Just some drunk guy asking for a push." he answers.

"Did you help him?" she asks.

"No, I did not! It's three in the morning and it's pouring out!"

"Well, you have a short memory." says his wife. "Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down and those two guys helped us? I think you should help him and you should be ashamed of yourself!"

The man does as he is told, gets dressed, and goes out into the pounding rain.

He calls out into the dark, "Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes." comes back the answer.

"Do you still need a push?" calls out the husband.

"Yes, please!" comes the reply from the dark.

"Where are you?" asks the husband.

"Over here, on the swing."

A man and his wife are awakened at 3 o'clock in the morning by a loud pounding on the door. The man gets up and goes to the door where a drunken stranger stands in the pouring down rain.

"Can you give me a push?" he asks while hanging onto the door frame.

"Not a chance" says the husband -- "It's 3 o'clock in the morning!". He slams the door and returns to bed.

"Who was it?" asks his wife.

"Just some drunk wanting a push" he answers.

"Did you help him?" she asks.

"No, I didn't -- it's three in the morning and raining like crazy out."

"Well, you have a short memory" says his wife. "Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down on vacation and those two strangers helped us? I think you should help him."

The man does as he is told and gets dressed and goes out into the pounding rain and calls out into the dark, "Hello, are you still there?"

"Yes," comes the answer.

"Do you still want a push?" calls out the husband.

"Yes, please!" comes the reply from the dark.

"Where are you?" asks the husband.

"Over here on the swing!" the drunk replies.