.....Advertisement.....
.....Advertisement.....

Springing forward with the 100th column

-A A +A
By Dick Frank

Today is the first day of spring. We look forward to trees budding, flowers blooming, and weather becoming more normal. Hopefully, the winter with its up and down temperatures from unusual lows to periods of unseasonable warm days, has really ended.

With a spring in our step we travel down Pun Alley for some seasonal tales.

Spring Sing

Last summer an old New England industrial town decided it was time to clean up the local waterway. Engineers built a series of diversionary trenches to capture some of the solid pollutants. During the winter these trenches all froze. When spring came and the ice melted, the vastly increased concentration of pollutants in these trenches caused a great obnoxious odor in the neighborhood, prompting locals to start singing that famous old song, “A River Ditch Aroma.”

All Broke Up

Sven and Lena lived on a lake in Northern Minnesota. Spring was just beginning. Sven asked Lena if she would walk across the frozen lake to the general store to pick him up some tobacco. “Sure, but I’ll need some money,” Lena said.

Sven thought for a moment and said, “No, with the weather warming up, I don’t know how thick the ice is. So just tell them to put it on my tab.”

Spring Happenings

The college kids call it spring “break.” Their parents, however, call it spring “broke.”

Farmers and golfers start their spring plowing.

After a hard winter, relief comes to the trees in the spring.

In the spring jolly farmers say, “hoe, hoe, hoe.”

With the beginning of baseball season the umpires don’t have it easy. The first time they go out on the field the band strikes up “Oh, say, can you see.”

No matter how much you push the envelope, it’ll still be stationery

I used to be a heavy gambler. But now I just make mental bets. That’s how I lost my mind.

Trampoline users call it springtime.

Byron has a terrific business. He makes dice out of Ivory Soap for floating crap games.

Good Advice

I was walking in the Greenway the other day when I came across a frog sunning itself on a rock. As I got closer, I could hear a voice coming from him plainly saying, “Sell stocks, buy gold. Sell stocks, buy gold.” But of course I didn’t listen; I don’t believe in frognostication.

It’s No More

In New Hampshire the last thing to melt this spring was the hardy snowman Bob built in December. There it was, a solitary hunk of ice in a sea of green, proving once again the old adage that snow man is an island.

Day Care Smarty

A little girl and a little boy were at day care. The girl approached the boy and said, “Hey Tommy, want to play house?”

He said, “Sure! What do you want me to do?”

The girl replied, “I want you to communicate your feelings.”

“Communicate my feelings?” said a bewildered Tommy. “I have no idea what that means.”

The little girl smirked and said, “Perfect. You can be the husband then.”

Come Clean

Customer: “Can you dry clean these pants?”

Dry Cleaner: “Well, Ma’am, these pants are satin.”

Customer: “I know that! I want you to remove whatever it was I sat in.”

Too Much Pork

A farmer was quoted in the Williston daily newspaper as having 2008 little pigs on his two-acre farm. Hearing recent political comments about reducing the amount of pork and fearing derisive comments from his neighbors, he stormed into the newspaper’s office and demanded a correction. He stated, “I didn’t say I had 2008 little pigs. I said I had two sows and 8 little pigs.”

Responsible Employment

Employer to applicant: “In this job we need someone who is responsible.”

Applicant: “I’m the one you want. On my last job, every time anything went wrong, they said I was responsible.”

Today’s column is a milestone, being the 100th Pun Alley that I have written. On June 3, 2005, I became the summer replacement punster while Tom Lazarick, the originator of Pun Alley, took a well-deserved vacation. Since that summer, my columns filled in whenever needed. When Tom passed away in 2007, I inherited the Alley.

When Jane and I moved to Oak Run in 1999, I immediately became a fan of Tom’s writings. I feel honored to be able to carry on his fun. You can help by sending your puns and jokes to dickjfrank@yahoo.com or via snail mail to the Citizen.