It’s Friday… time for a bit of punishment. No full-blown jokes today, just a few bad puns:
At a convention, Mike Carruthers had lost his two-way pager. Thinking someone might have picked it up by accident, he decided to send a message, warning the other person that they might have the wrong beeper. He wrote: “Am I Mike Carruthers’ beeper?”
A vulture was getting on a plane with a piece of roadkill under each wing. The flight attendant looked at the vulture and said, “I’m sorry, only one carrion per passenger.”
Archaeologists were exploring some old towers in Babylon. They were about to enter one, when a soldier stopped them. He said that his company had searched the area, and their commander had warned that there was still some danger in the area. He said that if the scientists saw any signs of smoke, they were to leave at once. One archaeologist noted in his records: “Warning: The searchin’ general has determined that smoking ziggurats is hazardous to your health.“
It’s Friday, and regular readers of the Kitchen know what that means. It’s time for a little humor! (emphasis on “little”) However instead of exploring the world of puns, I thought we’d hit the bars today, along with the Grammar nazis:
Past, Present, and Future walked into a bar. It was tense.
A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
An intransitive verb walk into a bar. He sits. He drinks. He leaves.
A dangling modifier walks into a bar. After finishing a drink, the bartender asks it to leave.
A question mark walks into a bar?
The bar was walked into by the passive voice.
Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
A spoonerism balks into a war.
A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to drink.
A sentence fragment that walks into a bar.
A subject and a verb disagrees about which bar to walk into.
An Oxford comma hops, skips, and jumps into a bar.
The subjunctive would walk into a bar, were it in the mood.
A prescriptivist walks into a tavern, because of course ‘bar’ means the counter at which drink is served rather than the establishment itself. He wonders why nobody else is there.
Giving credit where credit is due: Some of these were created by Eric K. Auld.
It’s Friday… time for a bit of punishment. No full-blown jokes today, just a few bad puns:
Back during the Cold War, a circus from Czechoslovakia was touring Western Europe. One of the clowns, a midget, decided that he wanted to defect. Slipping away from the group, he escaped to the U.S. Embassy. When the guards at the gate asked him his purpose, the midget replied, “I just wanted to know if you could cache a small Czech.”
A zoo keeper discovered that if he fed his porpoises seagull, they lived forever. One day, as he was making his way to the porpoise cage with their daily lunch, he discovered that two of the lions had escaped. His fellow keepers had shot the lions with tranquilizer darts, and the felines were sleeping soundly, right by the door of the porpoise enclosure. Not wanting to keep his clients waiting, the keeper stepped over the beasts on his way to feed the porpoises. Later that day, he was arrested for transporting gulls across staid lions for immortal porpoises.
The concept of dividing the globe into longitudinal strips to establish time zones was first proposed by Sweden’s Alex Andersrag. Few people today remember that these zones were once known as Alex Andersrag Time Bands.
The chess convention participants were arguing long and loud in the hotel lobby, disputing which of them had played the greatest games of all times. Finally the manager threw them out, saying, “No one wants to hear chess nuts boasting in an open foyer.”
Sometimes on Fridays, I’ve been sharing jokes from the Archer treasury of bad puns. This one is a bit dated, but it’s still fun.
Johnny and his cow
Johnny worked all day at the mint. His job was a rather unexciting one: he sorted dimes. The dimes would come through, and he would pull out any of the coins with flaws. The good ones went into one bin, the flawed ones into another.
Johnny lived in a small house down the block from the mint. He lived alone except for his one pet, his cow Lulabell. Johnny loved Lulabell, and she loved him. Every morning, before going to work at the mint, Johnny would take Lulabell for a stroll around the neighborhood (along with the biggest pooper scooper you’ve ever seen!).
For his birthday one year, Johnny received a subscription to Wines of the World Club. This allowed to him receive a special bottle of wine each month. One month, Johnny got a bottle of Japanese rice wine. He loved it! So much so that he drank a tad too much one night and fell into a deep sleep, without setting his alarm.
The sun woke him the next day, and Johnny realized he was running late. He jumped out of bed, dressed quickly and raced to work.
Meanwhile, Lulabell was waiting for her morning constitutional. She waited and waited, then decided something was wrong. She broke out of her pen and went to the house. She peered in all the windows, but couldn’t find Johnny. She finally pushed her way inside, knocking over Johnny’s sake in the process. Horrified at the mess she’d made, Lulabell licked up all of the spilled wine.
The sake went straight to her head. Lulabell went outside and began running in circles. She started running up and down the street. Johnny looked at the window of the mint and saw his beloved Lulabell running free. Worried that something would happen to her, he called to her.
Lulabell was so happy to see her master that she rushed past the security guards, barged through the doors and headed to Johnny. Arriving at his work space, she danced around in a joyous state… until her hoof caught in the bin of approved dimes. Lulabell kicked instinctively, and dimes poured out, rolling down the hall and out the door. Frightened, Lulabell kicked again and again, spilling more and more coins. The mint was shut down for the day.
The local newspaper came to cover the story, of course, and the headline the next day read:
COW WITH SAKE LETS THE GOOD DIMES ROLL
Just in case you don’t get the reference, here’s a link to a very popular commercial from the 1970s.
Hoping that a bit of humor isn’t out of place on Good Friday, I’ll pass on something that Keith Brenton sent me via Facebook. (And yes, the floodgates are now officially open. If you want to submit some bad puns for Fridays in the Kitchen, please feel free to do so)
Next time you have a Friday-humor terrible pun need … my late dad used to tell a convoluted story-joke about an island native chief who captured a coveted ivory throne but madd the mistake of stowing it away from the other tribes by hiding it in the attic of his grass hut, from whence it fell through and crushed him. The moral: “People who live in grass houses shouldn’t stow thrones.”
He also told one about a great pine tree demi-god to which baked goods were tossed by the medieval villagers at the harvest festival, when a visitor made the mistake of sacrificing cinnamon swirls to it and was angrily thrashed to death by its branches, cones and needles. The village priest solemnly intoned, “Cast not your swirls before the pine.“
I’d heard the first one. Even heard Rick Atchley use it as a sermon intro at Pepperdine Lectures. But the second was new to me.
It’s Friday… time for a bit of punishment. No full-blown jokes today, just a few bad puns: