I like puns. Especially if they make my wife grimace. Let’s have your best, your worst, whatever you’ve got. OK, I’ll start.
If there was a town called Easy Bay, and some witches lived there, would they be called the Easy Bay Coven?
My favorite pun is very long:
A guy gets a new job as a school bus driver. The super tells him: You just have to make three stops and pick up four children. That’s your bus with the Sesame Street characters painted on it.
He goes to the first stop and two very obese girls get on. One says “My name’s Patty.” The other one says “My name’s Patty too.”
At at the next stop a very strange looking kid gets on and says “My name’s Ross and I’m so special people call me Special Ross.”
At the third stop, a little black dude gets on and says “Yo! My names Lester G.”
The driver goes on, and notices a very sickening smell. He looks in the rear view mirrior and sees Lester G has taken off his shoes and is picking at a bunion on his foot.
The driver goes like a bat out of hell, drops off the kids, and drives back to the garage and screams “THAT"S IT. I QUIT!”
The super says “What’s wrong?”
THe driver says "What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong:
YOU’VE GOT ME DRIVING TWO OBESE PATTYS, SPECIAL ROSS, LESTER G. PICKING BUNIONS ON A SESAME STREET BUS!
My friends thought that they had ordered a granite counter top, unfortunately when it was installed it turned out to be slate and they were just taking it for granite.
::runs nekkid thru thread::
That tends to get mixed reactions, but grimacing is certainly up there.
It’s my ambition to visit India, just so I can send postcards saying, “Vishnu were here.”
Ah, a man after my own hart. You’re such a deer, I can’t understand why your wife doesn’t like puns. Too bad you’re not going stag.
My favorite possession as a kid was a giant postcard or Florida where all the place names had been changed to puns. My city was Bench Sittersburg, it’s funny because we have old people!
Um, anyway I came up with this one when I was around 12. At least I think it was my invention. I may have just taken an existing similar pun story and altered it. You have to forgive any historical errors.
Some Saxons managed to catch a group of Viking spies. The king suspected they were scouts for a future attack. They questioned and tortured each man unmercifully for information on when and where the attack would occur so they could be prepared. Each man refused to talk and eventually died from the torture. Finally there was one viking left and the king was desperate. His counselor suggested trying a different tactic, kindness. So they gave him a lovely suite in the castle and wined him and dined him. Eventually the king even had his beautiful daughter marry the man. After the wedding feast the king took the man aside and asked him for information on the upcoming viking attack. His new son-in-law still refused to talk.
The moral of the story is, “You can wed a Norse to your daughter but you can’t make him fink.”
By the way, fishbicycle, have you read Spider Robinson’s Callahan series?
That was a good one! It’s five minutes later and I’m still gigglingl
No, I’m a frayed knot.
A couple had twin babies, but could not afford to raise them and gave them up for adoption. One was adopted by a Spanish family and named Juan. The other was adopted by an Arabic family and named Amal. Many years passed and the couple receives a photo of Juan in the mail. The wife says, “I wish I could get a photo of Amal too.” The husband says, “Well, they are twins. If you’ve seen Juan you’ve seen Amal.”
This might or might not make sense to people outside (or even inside!) the UK:
A piece of black Tarmac walks into a pub. After a couple of pints he starts getting a bit lairy, and eventually the barman throws the Tarmac out.
A little while later, a piece of red Tarmac comes in. If anything, he’s even worse - spilling people’s pints, threatening people and so on. Eventually one of the regulars says to the barman: “Look, can’t you kick this Tarmac out, like you did before?”
“Oh no,” comes the reply. “I’m not messing with this fella.”
“Why not?”
“Well, the first guy was hard – but this one’s a bit of a cycle path!”
Originally Posted by Tiramisu
By the way, fishbicycle, have you read Spider Robinson’s Callahan series?
Well, I’m fit to be tied! A pun fan who hasn’t read Callahan’s? Give the first book a try, it’ll rope you in.
Such timing! Just this morning, I recalled a good one I had once a-pun a time…
Several years ago, I was at a con, and we were playing the RPG Toon. We were on a scavenger hunt, and one of the items on our list was a surfboard.
At one point, I had a brainstorm. I sent my character into the nearest shop, and asked the GM if there was a feudal slave in the back room. He said there was, with no idea why I might ask that.
So I went into the back, and attempted to fast talk the feudal slave into quitting his job and coming with me, that he was tired of his job, that he needed a change of pace, etc.
Suddenly, one of the other players realized what I was doing: “You’re trying to get a bored serf!”
What do you call it when a certain primate rants about the quality of his dessert?
An orangutan meringue harangue.
Bring out my puns? Sorry, all my puns turn out to be bombs, so I refuse.
But while I’m here, I’ll point out that my very favorite pun of all time appears in Terry Pratchett’s “The Truth”. Sorry, but you’ll have to read the whole thing to get it.
Not my own, I find it funny after all these years:
Q: Is life worth living?
A: Depends on the liver.
Holy Habitual Hand-smackers!
Oh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t a pun.
It was more of a nun-sequitur.
There was a very poor man who worked hard all his life. When he finally struck it rich he decided to build a solid gold toilet. After all, he reasoned, it was his throne. After installing it his wife took it for a test drive. Unfortunately, she was a very LARGE lady and promptly got stuck. They pulled and pushed but couldn’t get her off. Finally, he went and got a crow bar. “Are you crazy?” his wife screamed? “This is a solid gold toilet, you’ll ruin it” Well, he replied, “Its my potty and I’ll pry if I want to…”
My wife was telling me about her day yesterday, and how after she gave blood she was chatting about her diet to a few of the older ladies that help out there. They were asking her lots of questions:
“Can you eat bananas?”
“Can you eat apples?”
Then they gave her the perfect set-up:
“Can you eat grapes?”
She said “Sure, just not a whole bunch!”
She was evidentally quite pleased with herself, even paused for me to laugh and was a bit disappointed when I didn’t.
I just noticed that there was writing on my new glasses, etched into the surface of the lenses. I called PearleVision so I could complain about it and make a spectacle of myself.
I’ll share two. The first one is the type that should be drawn way out for maximum comic affect.
A group of scientists sets out through the Amazon jungle in search of new and exciting plants, animals, what have you. On their fifth day out, they hear a strange birdcall.
“Foo! Foo!”
One of the porters gasps and whispers, 'That’s the call of the Foo Bird. Legend has it that if it sh*ts on you and wash it off, you die!"
Well of course, the scientists laugh it off. A few days later they hear the call again and one of the junior scientists is splattered with guano. He washes it off and immediately dies.
(at this point, one goes through and stretches it out, describing the horrible death of as many scientists and porters as you please. Finally, the head scientist is the only one left, and he gets splattered as well).
The head scientist, having learned his lesson, strikes out for the nearest village without washing off the crap. Days pass, for the expedition was in the deep jungle. When he finally reaches the village, the mess has dried and is flaking off, not to mention that it smells awful. He calculates that since it has dried off, it must be safe to wash, so he jumps in the local stream and floats away, dead.
The moral of the story? If the Foo shits, wear it.
So it seems there’s this lever that, if pulled, will trigger the end of the world. This lever has been guarded since the beginning of time by a family of giant snakes, a noble line indeed, from father to son.
At the time of our story, Nate the Snake is the latest to guard The Lever. He’s done his job for 20 years, keeping away anything and everything that might push it, pull it, or otherwise cause the end of the world.
One day, an earthquake rolls through the land and dislodged a giant boulder from a nearby mountain. The boulder rolls on a direct course towards the lever, and Nate fearlessly jumps in front of it. It squashes him, of course, but Nate’s extreme bulk is enough to divert the boulder from its terrifying course. The world is saved, but the snake is dead.
The moral of the story? ‘Better Nate than Lever.’