[POTD] Puns of the Day:12-1-99
- Puns of the Day: 12-1-99
PUNY Riddle Chain:
What's your father's brother's wife expected to do just
before the cards are dealt?
Auntie Up (By Gary Hallock)
. What were the poetry and sonnets that a very young Jack
Frost grew up with?
T. V. Show of the Week:
A show about Alan Thicke pulling a muscle every time
he sees his son:
Groin Pains (By Clynch Varnadore)
Punned Haiku by Gary Hallock:
You will always know
A gentleman head to toe
By his sneeze, "Hat-shoe!"
The Pun Page:
Mr. Dunlop went to a professor and asked the professor
to do a pun on his name. The professor said, "Lop off
the last syllable and it is Dun."
Another name for evening hours, light time.
Childrens Mondegreens from Richard Lederer:
They treated him as if he had the blue bonnet plague.
Typos from Richard Lederer:
HELP WANTED: Law firm needs secretary. Excellent
benefits, including tension.
Arrears Where everybody knows you're to blame
A place to cry in your beer:
Tears...where everybody knows your shame
Mirrors: Where everybody knows your pane.
What's a cow's favorite candy?
What Christmas song lyrics did the family sing when
Uncle Chester got drunk and sat down in the fire place?
Chet's nuts roasting on an open fire?
One who does magic tricks with bandages is a wizard
Wagner's music is better than it sounds.
Do you think I should write a scientific textbook about
the human forehead and how it developed?
Of course not. Your readers will find it too highbrow.
If a doctor of geriatrics treats old people, and a doctor
of gynecology treats women; then, what does a geriatric-
gynecologist specialize in?
Spreading old wives tails.
Bumper sticker's favorite fruit: "Free Stone Peach".
"Not A Guitar" by Amanda Lynn
Tom Swifts: :
"Be careful with that knife!" Tom said sharply.
"I insist on naming the first male insect,"
said Tom adamantly
Lexicon From Dave Coble:
. Scabbard: Non-Union Poet
Baud Rate: Hourly charge at the motel
Autopsy: The top on a convertible car
Laugh Your Ass Off:
I saw some strange goings on in the city today. A group
of sterile monks in white robes were circling a large
urn containing flowers, chanting, raising their hands,
bowing to the urn, and performing some kind of ritual
on one young member of the group. It appeared to be
a vase sect to me.
Fearing that she might be a hemophiliac, the prostitute
went to see her doctor. "It's awful," she says. "Every
time I get even a small cut, it takes days for the
bleeding to stop." "I see," said the physician. "And how
much do you lose when you get your period?" She thought
for a moment, then answered, "About five grand.