About 53 percent of searches Americans make for jokes are for light or corny jokes — searches like “fun jokes,” “kids jokes” or “dad jokes.’”
— New York Times, May 14, 2016
Dad jokes are the best, don’tcha think? You know that nothing makes me laugh like dad jokes, because they’re always funny, because dads rock – oh yeah! – and because they’re mine.
But you already know dad jokes are the best, that’s why you spend so much time on Google, searching for dad jokes, and I can only assume that you do it to “snap” them to your buddies. But while Google is fine for basic research, it’s got its limitations so for true understanding of dad jokes you need to get it from dad. And here I am.
How do you come up with your dad jokes, you ask? How can dad always be so funny? What is a great dad joke? Glad you asked. Let me me dadsplain them to you.
Dear potential business partners, marketers, and, yes, friends—
First off, thank you for your overwhelming attention. I’m not sure that I’m worthy of all that outpouring of love – because that’s what it is – but I do appreciate it. Getting dozens of emails every day is more than I probably deserve, but I welcome them, and would also like to take this opportunity to apologize for the lack of response from my side, and for the fact that I now do so in a blog post.
Having said all that, I must say that I’m starting to feel like you don’t know me, at all.
In the spirit of John Lennon, a one-time New Yorker, I say: yes, yes is the answer. “Yes” is the answer to the question on everybody’s minds earlier today: “Do you smell something weird?” And “yes” is the answer to the question, “is that short fella standing in the middle of the car the source of said smell?”
So I say to all of you, yes, yes I did smell something weird, and yes, the smell seemed to be coming off that man –– and yes, I was that man.
“It’s obviously more important that Israel survive, you know, than probably some other random set of six million people elsewhere survive.”
– David Plotz, Slate’s “Political Gabfest”, April 20, 2012
Over here? No, not Israel, look a little further north. A little more. Here, in Europe. Just go straight north from Israel and when you hit the Arctic Ocean, look to the west. See? Just another random set of 5,363,624 people.
That’s right. Finland.
Sir? May I help you? Do I know you? Oh, oh, you weren’t really looking at me, you were just staring at our game? I understand, it is fascinating to see how two formerly athletic guys still can throw and catch a ball, isn’t it?
Welcome “back”, man.
I know it’s tough to find great participatory journalism projects, something to really throw yourself into these days, and I suppose your “stunt” is just a sign of the times, but still, dude, “to be without Internet”?
Two words, buddy: “Oooooooooooo-ooooh.”
Welcome back to our humble home. It’s not always this humble, but ever since the tiny water damage in the upstairs bathroom, we’ve had to make some adjustments.
Make yourself at home, while you’re renovating ours. He he. A little joke there. What’s a little lighthearted banter among friends, right? I really feel like I’ve gotten to know you during the four months it’s taken you to put back the tiles in our eight-square-meter bathroom.
Anybody ever tell you that you look like a lot of people? Not sure what it is, maybe the fact that you’re kind of chubby, but not, in the Colin Firth kind of way, and your hair’s long, but short, and curly but straight, and when you hide behind a magazine like that, you really have just yourself to blame if somebody mistakes you for another person.