Puns

The best puns are often offered as stories, and the pun component is as much as surprise as the pun content. By having a "pun" page I'm giving some of that away, so this is a somewhat limited collection. Something really is lost when you have an idea of what might be coming.



Two vultures board an airplane, each carrying two dead raccoons. The stewardess looks at them and says, "I'm sorry, gentlemen, only one carrion allowed per passenger."


Did you hear that NASA recently put a bunch of Holsteins into low earth orbit? They called it the herd shot 'round the world.


Two boll weevils grew up in South Carolina. One went to Hollywood and became a famous actor. The other stayed behind in the cotton fields and never amounted to much. The second one, naturally, became known as the lesser of two weevils.


Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, but when they lit a fire in the craft, it sank proving once again that you can't have your kayak and heat it, too.


A three legged dog walks into a saloon in the Old West. He slides up to the bar and announces: "I'm looking for the man who shot my paw."


Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocain during a root canal? He wanted to transcend dental medication.


A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse. "But why?" they asked, as they moved off. "Because," he said, "I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."


A woman has twins, and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Amal." The other goes to a family in Spain; they name him "Juan." Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Amal. Her husband responds, "They're twins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Amal."


These friars were behind on their belfry payments, so they opened up a small florist shop to raise funds. Since everyone liked to buy flowers from the men of God, a rival florist across town thought the competition was unfair. He asked the good fathers to close down, but they would not. He went back and begged the friars to close. They ignored him. So, the rival florist hired Hugh MacTaggart, the roughest and most vicious thug in town to "persuade" them to close. Hugh beat up the friars and trashed their store, saying he'd be back if they didn't close up shop. Terrified, they did so, thereby proving that: Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars.


And finally, there was a man who sent ten different puns to friends, in the hope that at least one of the puns would make them 
laugh. Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.


A scientist was successful in cloning himself, and was asked to speak at a national convention of cloning scientists. The meeting room was located on the 45th floor of a New York skyscraper. "My fellow scientists," he began. But before he could utter another word, the clone jumped up and shouted, "he's a *&^^%*@)&!".

Apologizing for the interruption, the scientist began again, "My fellow scientists,". Again the clone sprang to his feet and yelled, "this dumb *%@(&+*! couldn't produce a copy on a Xerox. He's a fraudulent *$3%$#*#+=!".

Incensed, the scientist rushed to the clone, grabbed him, and threw him out of the window.

The crowd gasped and security rushed into the room. A short while later New York's finest arrived and the events that had transpired were explained to them. The police chief said to the scientist, "We are going to have to arrest you."

The scientist replied, "For what? You can't arrest me for killing a clone!". The attending scientists nodded in agreement. "Well!" retorted the police chief. He thought for a moment and ordered the scientist held for "Making an obscene clone fall..."



It's well known that some species of fish on the coral reef have adapted to be able to survive the poisonous sea anemone's sting, which gives them a safe place to hide from predators. What isn't so well known is the story of the single fish that decided to be different. One day he swam away from his protective anemone, in search of some other hiding place.

A first, he swam into a small crevice in the rock, but he very quickly swam out of there, chased by an eel. Then he decided he could hide inside a shell, so he found a nice big one that he liked, but had to retreat from the crab that had got there before him. Finally, exhausted, he swam into the coral beds, and hid among the brilliant colored fern-like fronds of the corals.

The next day, when he hadn't come back to the anemone, some of the other fish decided to go out and look for him. The hunted everywhere for him, but they couldn't find him. Eventually, just as they had given up, they heard him calling to them. They looked around, but they couldn't see him anywhere - he was perfectly hidden by the coral.

Finally, he showed himself, and they tried to persuade him to come back home, but he refused - the coral was too good a hiding place to leave. "After all," he said, "with fronds like these, who needs anemones?"



After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed. The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process. After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.

Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job. The bishop was incredulous. "You have no arms!"

"No matter," said the man. "Observe!" And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon. The bishop listened in astonishment, convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, rushing forward to strike a bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed to his side. When he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moments before.

As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked, "Bishop, who was this man?"

"I don't know his name," the bishop sadly replied, "but his face rings a bell."

WAIT! WAIT! There's more . . .

The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame. The first man to approach him said, "Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday. I pray that you honor his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty."

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot. Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.

"What has happened? Who is this man?" the first monk asked breathlessly.

"I don't know his name," sighed the distraught bishop, "but..."

( . . . Wait for it . . . )

(. . . It's worth it . . . )

(. . . Here it comes . . . )

"He's a dead ringer for his brother."



Mahatma Ghandi walked everywhere, to the point that his feet became quite thick and hard. he also was quite a spiritual person. Even when he was not on a hunger strike, he did not eat much and became quite thin and frail. Furthermore, due to his diet, he wound up with very bad breath. Therefore, he came to be known as a

wait for it.....

ready??

Super calloused fragile mystic plagued with halitotis.



I ran across the phrase "When in Palindrome, do as the Palindromans" and that was enough incentive to try to exhaust the genre, as is my wont. Here are a few of the better ones, all puns intended:

When in Autumn, do as the Ottomans.
When in a Chord E, do as the Accordians.
When in Drag, do as the Dragons.
When in Fahrvergnug, do as the Fahrvergnugens.
When Infirm, do as the Furmans.
When it's Friday, do as the Freudians.
When in Fur Boat, do as the Verbotens.
When with High Bernie, do as the Hibernians.
When in Oh Really, do as the Aurelians.
When in Oise, do as the Wazoos.
When in Pawns-Ideally, do as the Ponce de Leons.
When in Pee, do as the Peons.
When in Serge, do as the Surgeons.
When on the Verge, do as the Virgins.



A number of years ago, the Seattle Symphony was doing Beethoven's Ninth under the baton of Milton Katims...

At this point, you must understand two things:
  (1) There's a long segment in this symphony where the bass violins don't have a thing to do. Not a single note for page after page.
  (2) There used to be a tavern called Dez's 400 right across the street from the Seattle Opera House, rather favored by local musicians.

It had been decided that during this performance, after the bass players had played their parts in the opening of the Ninth, they were to quietly lay down their instruments and leave the stage rather than sit on their stools looking and feeling dumb for twenty minutes.

Well, once they got backstage, someone suggested that they trot across the street and quaff a few brews. After they had downed the first couple rounds, one said, "Shouldn't we be getting back? It'd be awfully embarrassing if we were late."

Another, presumably the one who suggested this excursion in the first place, replied, "Oh, I anticipated we could use a little more time, so I tied a string around the last pages of the conductor's score. When he gets down to there, Milton's going to have to slow the tempo way down while he waves the baton with one hand and fumbles with the string with the other."

So they had another round and finally returned to the Opera House, a little tipsy by now. However, as they came back on stage, one look at their conductor's face told them they were in serious trouble.

Katims was furious! And why not? After all...

It was the bottom of the Ninth, the score was tied, and the basses were loaded.



A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack. "Miss Whack, I'd like to get a $30,000 loan to take a holiday." Pattie looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick Jagger, and that it's okay, he knows the bank manager.

Pattie explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral. The frog says, "Sure. I have this," and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about half an inch tall - bright pink and perfectly formed. Very confused, Pattie explains that she'll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office.

She finds the manager and says, "There's a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral." She holds up the tiny pink elephant. "I mean, what in the world is this?"

The bank manager looks back at her and says... "It's a knickknack, Pattie Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."