STORE OWNER: Why do my taxes keep going up?
PROPERTY ASSESSOR: Because the churches don’t pay taxes, so we have to make up the difference.
STORE OWNER: And why are there so many churches?
PROPERTY ASSESSOR: Because we’re not allowed to decide whether or not something’s a church.
STORE OWNER: (pause) Stop leaning on my altar.
The above was copied from Not Always Right, a humor site.
Signs of life are always found on signs
If attacked by a mob of clowns, go for the juggler. I childproofed my house but the kids still get in. The first five days after a weekend are the hardest. Ban pre-shredded cheese – make America grate again. The Past, Present, and Future walk into a bar – it was tense. They’re not going to make yardsticks any longer. Practice safe eating – always use condiments. If you think eduaction is costly, try ignorance. I checked into the Hokey-Pokey Clinic and I turned myself around. What happens if you get scared half to death twice? This is my stepladder. I never knew my real ladder. I want to grow my own food but I can’t find any bacon seeds. If your car is running, I’m voting for it. I visited the Air & Space Museum but there was nothing there. My wife said I never listen to her, or something like that. Frog parking only – all others will be toad.
If attacked by a mob of clowns, go for the juggler. I childproofed my house but the kids still get in. The first five days after a weekend are the hardest. Ban pre-shredded cheese – make America grate again. The Past, Present, and Future walk into a bar – it was tense. They’re not going to make yardsticks any longer. Practice safe eating – always use condiments. If you think eduaction is costly, try ignorance. I checked into the Hokey-Pokey Clinic and I turned myself around. What happens if you get scared half to death twice? This is my stepladder. I never knew my real ladder. I want to grow my own food but I can’t find any bacon seeds. If your car is running, I’m voting for it. I visited the Air & Space Museum but there was nothing there. My wife said I never listen to her, or something like that. Frog parking only – all others will be toad.
From throwing rocks into the Grand Canyon to Dorothy Parker
A series of comments on a recent news article. We visited the Grand Canyon when I was a kid. I remember a ranger telling us why we shouldn‘t throw rocks into the canyon: “If everybody did it, they’d fill up the canyon.”
A series of comments on a recent news article. We visited the Grand Canyon when I was a kid. I remember a ranger telling us why we shouldn‘t throw rocks into the canyon: “If everybody did it, they’d fill up the canyon.”
And if everybody wanted to take rock samples, there’d be no rocks left.
Big Bob sauntered down to my work area and casually enquired if I had a wooden leg
At one firm in the 1980s our group occupied cubicles in a row near some windows. I sat in the left end cubicle next to my log-time buddy, Art. A colleague named Big Bob inhabited a cubicle several cubes toward the building’s entrance door. One day one of my shoes squeaked as I walked. Big Bob made a remark to Mike, an engineer who lived across the aisle from Big Bob, about some squeaky noise coming from my leg as I walked past his cubicle. Mike was always quick on the uptake and replied that I had a wooden leg and it probably needed oiling around the ankle. Buddy Art heard this and immediately signaled me with a wink as he dialed Big Bob’s phone. I grabbed the sheet of thin cardboard at the bottom of a pad of paper and rolled it , then fitted it into my sock and up my trousers leg. Art kept Big Bob on the phone long enough so I could draw a few hairs on the cardboard. Soon Art hung up on Big Bob. Big Bob sauntered down to my work area and casually enquired if I had a wooden leg. I lifted up my cuff just an inch or so and tapped on the cardboard. Big Bob went into one of his famous blushing modes and quickly retreated back to his cube, never again asking about body parts. A Big Bob Story
At one firm in the 1980s our group occupied cubicles in a row near some windows. I sat in the left end cubicle next to my log-time buddy, Art. A colleague named Big Bob inhabited a cubicle several cubes toward the building’s entrance door. One day one of my shoes squeaked as I walked. Big Bob made a remark to Mike, an engineer who lived across the aisle from Big Bob, about some squeaky noise coming from my leg as I walked past his cubicle. Mike was always quick on the uptake and replied that I had a wooden leg and it probably needed oiling around the ankle. Buddy Art heard this and immediately signaled me with a wink as he dialed Big Bob’s phone. I grabbed the sheet of thin cardboard at the bottom of a pad of paper and rolled it , then fitted it into my sock and up my trousers leg. Art kept Big Bob on the phone long enough so I could draw a few hairs on the cardboard. Soon Art hung up on Big Bob. Big Bob sauntered down to my work area and casually enquired if I had a wooden leg. I lifted up my cuff just an inch or so and tapped on the cardboard. Big Bob went into one of his famous blushing modes and quickly retreated back to his cube, never again asking about body parts. A Big Bob Story
Some people have observed that there’s occasionally something mechanical about the way Tod moves and speaks. That’s only because his joints don’t get oiled enough. He takes care of that by getting “oiled” with a can of beer.
The latest trendy hot topic in Silican Valley is ”raw water”
Out of touch with Reality Silicon Valley “bros” have been smoking something bad when they manage to convince each other to pay $35 for a jug of unfiltered untreated “raw” water Raw water is water that is bottled directly from the source: a creek, a hillside spring, or a lake. Raw water is ”raw” because it has not been filtered or treated to remove chemicals or bacteria that could cause illness or death. We’ve researched this topic and unearthed a few enterprising bottlers of raw water. According to news sources, 2.5 gallon jugs are going for more than $35.
Out of touch with Reality Silicon Valley “bros” have been smoking something bad when they manage to convince each other to pay $35 for a jug of unfiltered untreated “raw” water Raw water is water that is bottled directly from the source: a creek, a hillside spring, or a lake. Raw water is ”raw” because it has not been filtered or treated to remove chemicals or bacteria that could cause illness or death. We’ve researched this topic and unearthed a few enterprising bottlers of raw water. According to news sources, 2.5 gallon jugs are going for more than $35.
- Piers Pure Raw Water (extracted from a tributary of Pence Creek that runs through the feedlot of Piers Dairy)
- Büdelsdorfer Reinkanalwasser (Imported) (source: the northern end of the Kiel Canal near Büdelsdorf)
- Buttweiser Lite (source: runoff from the Thomas Fire near Santa Barbara, distributed by Budweiser Van Nuys, CA)
- St. Tammany Raw Water Reclamation (source: wells tapped on the Superfund site of Madison Creosote Works, Louisiana)
- Red Hook Raw Sparkling Water (source: Gowanus Canal, Brooklyn, New York)
- A discussion about the commercial overuse of the word bespoke can be read in The New York Times.
Comment threads of news items can be pretty much echo chambers but every once in a while, someone posts a random comment that leads to a rich variety of punny responses. Witness this brilliant series:
- Currently listening to Rachmaninoff…yeah…he Rachs my socks…
- Rach and Roll
- Nooo! Please come Bach with more musical puns!
- Can’t offer you one because I’m still recouperin from the last one.
- Nuh-huh, you’re obviously just Haydn them.
- Listen, I’ve got a whole Liszt of them.
- I’ve no doubt that your the Lieder of them.
- I keep them in my schu, mann.
- Drat, I was just about to ask, “Verdi you get them?”
- Stop it, my brain can’t Handel this anymore.
- I need to brush my teeth; anyone have a tuba toothpaste?
- Alright, I admit I’m getting a bit Straussed as well.
- Quit harping on that!
- I don’t like the tenor of that comment
- Cello everybody, I’m hear!
- William, Tell me who is De Falla at the table?
- He’s Il turko in Italia waiting for l’arlesienne.
- That’s pretty bass of you to horn in with opéra comique
- Okay everyone, just stay well-tempered.
- Now now, no violins, please.
- For my Clavier is about to burst!
- Have we exhausted all we can say that’s of note?
Another bunch of native witz on a comment thread
Funny how the obverse [seeing an atheist sign on a car] is never taken into account – drive around my county in PA and count the number of Christian-message-exhorting signs, billboards, bumper stickers, fish symbols on businesses…you’ll get exhausted soon.
Funny how the obverse [seeing an atheist sign on a car] is never taken into account – drive around my county in PA and count the number of Christian-message-exhorting signs, billboards, bumper stickers, fish symbols on businesses…you’ll get exhausted soon.
- “drive around” “get exhausted” I see what you did there.
- There auto be a law.
- Someone needs to be Drawn and Quoted.
- You can also get tired.
- Can we please steer the conversation away from puns?
- What are you driving at?
Seems there was an orchestra, with a master Violinist in first chair. In the midst of final rehearsal for a grand exposition of powerful music, a bizarre dissonance was heard.
The conductor stopped the piece as he nearly fell off his podium.
The concertmaster was heard to say softly, “Apologies, Maestro – there are flies here. One landed on my score and I played him.”