Yep. Time for puns again! Make 'em short, make 'em long, make 'em witty, make 'em as stupid as a person who eats stupid food breakfast would. You have no shame. So give us some puns.
I’ll start:
At church services, the pastor told a slightly humourous story to illustrate a point. After he gave the punch line, a small, wispy man stood up and bolted back and forth thru the pews of the church, squeazing several women’s breasts as he did so. Then he sat back down. In the church newsletter, this odd occurance was commented on with this line, “Reverand Pastorman told a joke and a slight titter ran thru the audience.”
Way back in about 1180 BCE, a spy was hiding from the Mesopotamian army officer that had figured out his subterfuge. The spy had decided to hide in one of the temples until he could sneak out at nightfall. It turned out to be an unusually cold day, tho and was afraid he might freeze to death in the cold stone building. So, he built a small fire, being very careful to avoid giving off any smoke. Or so he thought. From the other side of the great city, the army officer saw a wisp of smoke from the supposedly empty pyramid and decided to investigate it, just in case. He found the spy and had him killed. Let it be know that the searching general has determined that smoking ziggurats can be hazardous to your stealth.
Okay, those required a bit of a long set up. Yours don’t need to be of this type, but if they are, that’s cool too.
On a television sports talk show, three guests were scheduled to appear: Paul Coffey of the NHL, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar of the NBA, and boxer Sugar Ray Leonard. Unfortunately, the first two took up so much of the show’s time, that the producer decided to cancel the third guest and reschedule him for another time. The producer grabbed a cue card and wrote a message to the host informing him that he was not to introduce the third guest or try to squeeze him in somehow. What did the cue card say?
There once was a great king on a South Pacific island. All the people of the island loved the king very much, as he was very good to them. He had only one vice. He was vain. He liked very elaborate thrones. He collected them. As his collection grew and grew, he added more and more rooms to his palace. One day the palm and bamboo palace collapsed from all the weight.
The moral?
Those who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.
In ancient times there was a community known as the Goodnu’s. As all communities did in these times the Goodnu’s lived right on the river bank for trading, transportation and sustenance. Water was almighty and worshipped as a God.
One day there was a tremendous hurricane far out in the ocean. It’s ferocity blew a large flock of “Foo” birds way off course sending them inland many hundreds of miles and in the vicinity of the Goodnu’s community. The Goodnu people had never seen a “Foo” bird and were quite curious as to it’s sudden and obviously evil presence. The “Foo” bird, as we all know, is a very ugly, evil-looking bird. This caused the Goodnu people to become very uneasy believing they did something wrong to God and that this bird should be avoided.
One day a “Foo” bird flew overhead and screeched: “Foo, Foo” and shit on a Goodnu’s head. The man ran screaming into the river believing the Holy powers of the river would cleanse him of this evil turd and its consequences. As soon as the man washed this unholy turd from his ear canal he suddenly keeled over and died. The Goodnu’s were now convinced of the “Foo” bird’s evilness. The next day a woman was outside and heard: “Foo, Foo”. Before she could react the “Foo” bird dropped a bomb landing a syrupy turd across her face. Shocked and panicked she ran into the river furiously washing her face of this sloppy stew. The village watched in horror as this woman also died once cleansed of the runny turd.
The very next day a village wiseman heard those famous words: “Foo, Foo”. He like others had witnessed the terrible deaths of two of his villages’ people in the last two days. He too was struck right in the forehead by the “Foo” birds accurately guided turd missile. His first reaction was confusion and he sprinted towards the river. However, he stopped short and thought of his obvious demise should he cleanse the turd wafer from his forehead. He did not cleanse the poo pile from his forehead and lived.
So the wiseman went to the other people of the village, gathered them around and stated to them: “There is an obvious lesson here my good people. The moral of this story is: ‘If the Foo shits, wear it.’”.
Ringo became a gentleman farmer, but was having no success. His neighbor’s animals were all strong and healthy, so he went and asked him the secret to his success.
“well, for chickens, you wanna plant some corn.” The farmer said.
“Right, a field of corn for chickens.” Ringo replied.
“And for horses, you wanna plant some corn.” The farmer said.
“Right, a field of corn for horses.” Ringo replied.
“And for cows, you wanna…”
“I know, I know,” Rigno butts in, “I want a field of corn.”
“No,” replied the farmer, “everyone knows it **strawberry **fields for heifers.”
A man wakes up with a horrible toothache and bad gas to boot. After making an emergency appointment with the dentist, he goes into the bathroom for his morning routine. He lets out a fart, but to his amazement, it sounds like “Honda!”. He’s puzzled, but he has more pressing things to deal with and so he just shrugs it off.
Later, in the dentist’s waiting room, he feels another bout of gas coming. He tries to hold it, but to no avail. He lets out a loud “Honda!” The other patients move away from him, eyeing him strangely. Fortunately, he is called next and quickly escapes their scrutiny.
The dentist examines him and says, “Here’s your problem. You have a nasty abcess. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” The dentist goes into the next room to get some implements of destruction and the man takes the opportunity to relieve pressure once more while no one is in the room. “Honda!” his hindquarters proclaim. The dental assistant pops into the room just then and says, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”, but she takes two steps into the room, grimaces and leaves.
After the dentist fixes up his teeth, the man, much relieved, thanks him and pays his bill. Just as he’s turning to leave, another fart escapes. “Pfffrrrrrrt!” The man goes running back into the dentist and gasps, “Doctor, what did you do? My farts have sounded like ‘Honda!’ all morning, but now they’re normal.”
The doc just shrugs and says, “I thought everyone knew. Abcess makes the fart go ‘Honda!’”
Mathematician Joe McCrosky was concerned. The aliens had invaded, of course, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. Joe never did care for whatever politics were going on at the time; that was in the world of men, and his work was with the eternal forms of number and function. So what had finally brought perturbation theory to bear on this formerly unperturbable singularity of intellect? He was running through the streets, dodging laser blasts. The aliens had started stealing his mathematics. First they took base 10, and then spread out from there. All he had left was base 17, which as you of course know is extremely ungainly to work with. Suddenly that vaporized too. It was then that he heard it, a terrible piercing scream that signified his doom.
“All your base are belong to us!”
Meanwhile, at the local FedEx depot …
“Hey Steve, did you hear? Fred’s gone.”
“He’s gone? After 20 years?”
"Yeah, I know. Broke me up too. Just up and left. Day after day he was here, sorting through packages like no other man could. I remember when he first got here and started sorting them with a speed I’d never before seen and never seen since. And now … he’s gone.
“Where did he go?”
“Government work. Shipping packages for the government.”
“You mean …”
“Yup. He’s gone postal.”
DETROIT, MI - Local area man David Frodan has caused quite a ruckus lately with his homemade weaponry, particularly curved swords. But where most of them are made of steel, Frodan has taken to fashioning the blades from tar, the distillation of organic matter. Whenever passersby chance near his driveway, Frodan has been outside yelling at them to come look at his unique creations with a cry of “Sci mi tar! Sci mi tar!”
Bounty hunter moseys into town. “Hey there, Mister Sheriff! You got any varmints I kin run down fer yew?”
“Yup,” says the sheriff. “We do gots one, but he’s kinda weird.”
“Weird? How?”
“Weeelll, he wears a brown paper hat.”
“Brown paper hat! That shur is weird.”
"Yup, " says the sheriff again. “And a brown paper shirt.”
“Brown paper shirt?!”
“Yup. An’ a brown paper belt, an’ brown paper pants. Plus brown paper boots, brown paper holster AND a brown paper gun.”
“Gooolllleee! Never heard o’ such a thang. But tell me, Sheriff, what’s 'e wanted fer?”
“Rustling.”
Right after Queen Victoria visited the Canadian city named after her
(Victoria, British Columbia, of course), she was asked if a housing
development could be named in her honor – Victoria Mews.
The Queen replied “We can be many things: We can be a city in Canada, and We
can be a falls in Africa, but We are NOT a mews!”
A girl finds herself in a delicate situation at the young age of 15. When she discovers she’s pregnant with twin boys, she decides she cannot raise them and gives them up for adoption. All she knows about the adoption is one baby went to Spain, and one went to the Middle East.
Years later, she’s married with a family. Her husband knows about her past. One day she receives a letter in the mail from one of her sons. In the letter he introduces himself as Juan Salazar and that he’s her son. He goes on to talk about his life and how he understands that she had to give him up years ago. He includes a picture of himself too. At the end of the letter, he says he’s been looking for his brother, but so far has only found out his first name is Jamal.
She says to her husband, “Oh I’m so happy I’ve found my baby, I wish I had a picture of Jamal too.”
Her husband says, “Why? If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Jamal”