Puns

Keeping with the spirit of apologizing for my jokes ahead of time: hey, sorry folks.  But this blog-post is unapologetically dedicated to The Pun, both crowned king of humorous forms and (like myself) shameless jester in constant danger of banishment from the comedy kingdom.  Simply put, I adore puns.  If you’re peeling beets, you can count on me to pipe up with “if you can’t beet ’em, join ’em”.  Or how about an illustration of dinner rolls dressed up as famous people we all look up to, with the caption “Roll Models”?  Let’s not even get me started, people.

The pun is workingman’s humor – you don’t have to get dressed up for a pun and take it out to a fancy dinner, carefully trying to impress it.  Puns are sluts.  All you gotta do is buy that pun a few drinks and take it home, the rest will take care of itself.  How’s that analogy workin’ out for ya?  If I think of a good one, don’t worry – I’ll keep you “posted”.  (Insert “lol” here, then load gun with single bullet.)

…aaaaaand the post bad-joke awkward silence ensues…

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