Jim sent me these today. I hate puns. I really hated these. I hope you hate them, too.
A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother.
A pessimist’s blood type will always b-negative.
A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
A successful diet is the triumph of mind over platter.
A gossip is someone with a great sense of rumour.
A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.
A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.
A plateau is a high form of flattery.
Dancing cheek-to-cheek is really a form of floor play.
Corduroy pillows are making headlines.
Marriage is the mourning after the knot before.
Acupuncture is a jab well done.
Does the name Pavlov ring a bell?
A backward poet writes inverse.
Dijon vu – the same mustard as before.
When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.
When you dream in colour, it’s a pigment of your imagination.
When the actress saw her first gray hairs, she thought she’d dye.
Without geometry, life is pointless.
A man’s home is his castle, in a manor of speaking.
Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead-to-know basis.
He often broke into song because he couldn’t find the key.
Once you’ve seen one shopping centre, you’ve seen a mall.
The short fortune teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.
Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.
I think I hated “Without geometry, life is pointless” the most. 😉
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