[Psst, you there. Yeah, you. Wanna know a closely guarded secret? Susannah reads grammar books and dictionaries just for the fun of it!]
Yep, it’s true. Not exactly the kind of gossip you’d want to have spread around the ‘hood about you, right? You might even be forgiven for thinking that surely I’ve gotten over it by now and have a life, right? But no. I’m guessing that the only other person in the world who might understand this peculiar aberration would be Grammar Girl, because I’m willing to bet the big bucks that she does it too!]
Just yesterday, as a matter of fact, I discovered a juicy new word that I had never read or even heard of before. The word is paronomasia. Ain’t that a beaut? If you, like me, have no idea what it might mean, there’s a big hint in the subject of this post.
You guessed it: that big, fancy word simply means a PUN!
(I do love words, but even I think that one might be overkill.)
The ability to create puns is, sadly, a gift I was never blessed with – to the immense relief of everyone around me, I’m sure. Furthermore, in spite of my love for words, I can’t remember a pun long enough to repeat it – which is probably why I still have friends.
But I can write about them.
What can I say? I can’t help myself….
So, with apologies in advance to all those folks who can’t stand the darned things, I’ve gathered more of those bons mots that make me titter, giggle, guffaw, and shiver with delight:
Why does Humpty Dumpty love autumn? Because he had a great fall.
A new type of broom came out, and it’s sweeping the nation.
I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid; he says he can stop anytime.
This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club, but I’d never met herbivore.
A will is a dead giveaway.
Why do we have noses that run and feet that smell?
A backward poet writes inverse.
If you take a laptop computer for a run, you can jog your memory.
A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.
A dyslexic man walks into a bra. [Bwaaaaahahaha]
If you don’t pay your exorcist, you can get repossessed.
When chemists die, they barium.
I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words.
A grenade falling onto a kitchen floor in France resulted in Linoleum Blownapart.
Local Area Network in Australia: The LAN down under. [Tee hee hee. Love it!]
He broke into song because he couldn’t find the key.
He had a photographic memory which was never developed.
The short fortune teller who escaped from prison: a small medium at large.
Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.
[Here are a couple of heavy-duty grammar puns for us golden oldies who had to conjugate verbs and parse sentences way back in the day. I only learned to decline when I took Spanish at university, so I had to look up the word to refresh my memory.]
A noun and a verb sit at a bar.
Verb: “Hey, wanna go back to my place and conjugate?”
Noun: “No, I decline.”
An adverb bumps into an infinitive in a bar.
Adverb: “Man, it’s really crowded in here!”
Infinitive: “It sure is. Shall we split?” [Whoot whoot!]
A Brief Interjection, here, re the Curse of High Apostrophe Intelligence, above: I just had to include this little image, because the poor woman groveling on the sidewalk could easily be me.
Would you look at that sign overhead? Every single possessive and plural is wrong, just plain WRONG. Arrrrrrgh! Words with apostrophes just tossed in any old way make me crazy, you hear? CRAZY!!!!
Whew….okay….okay, I think I’m back to normal now. Let us continue.
When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she’d dye.
Headline: “Energizer Bunny arrested, charged with battery.”
Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead-to-know basis.
Santa’s helpers are subordinate Clauses. [Giggle]
What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus, of course!
I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. I can’t put it down. [!!!]
Acupuncture: a jab well done.
Atheism the only non-prophet organisation.
PMS jokes aren’t funny. Period.
[And now, get ready for my pick of the week, the best of the best. Here it comes: Ta Da!]
What does a grape say after it’s been stepped on?
Nothing; it just lets out a little wine.
Oh man, every time I read it, I bust out in giggles all over again. “…a little wine” – it just breaks me up!
Oh, I could go on; but I’d like to keep you kind souls who read my posts from giving up and deciding “Enough with the puns already, I want nothing more to do with that crazy broad.”
So until next time (I hope),