Punning

[spike]

I feel like this time honored RM tradition may be fading into the past.

Has another brutal election cycle and a looming four years of Trump absurdness squashed the more playful side of our personalities? Is the sober humorlessness of wokeness just as much to blame? Surely it’s not the grumpy anti-pun faction winning the battle.

Tragic really. We are slowly losing part of our collective past, of who we are and what this forum is - or perhaps, now, once was.

[knee tunes]

can't veep

[knee tunes]

Assassination -- sung to the tune of evacuation

[Ms Harmless]

Borified G

[Bammer]

Spike r u 4 reals here?

Puns will never die. Can’t be forced - I’ve tried, it’s not authentic and it doesn’t work. Spontaneous inspiration is the only way.

Anyway please calm Down.

[bodysnatcher]

Spun the Black Circle

[wease]

Punce

[wease]

Punemployable

[bodysnatcher]

Quipping

[wease]

Pundulum

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Dev]

always hated puns.

no comedic value imo.

wordplay alone is not enough to constitute comedy?

[wease]

Deven Flow

[wease]

Indeverance

[wease]

Devacuation

[Dev]

and yeah, just taking pearl jam song titles over and over again and applying them to whatever subject. awful.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Dev is correct.

Goodbye.

[Dev]

Dev is correct.

Goodbye.

my man

[spike]

always hated puns.

no comedic value imo.

wordplay alone is not enough to constitute comedy?

You’re so State of Love and Crusty.

[Monkey_Driven]

Bitterman