Laundry Basket Puns (16)
- I was going to tell a joke about laundry baskets, but it would just come out dry.
- When the laundry basket started telling jokes, it had everyone in stitches.
- I entered my laundry basket into a comedy competition, but unfortunately all its jokes fell flat.
- Did you hear about the laundry basket that was feeling down? It needed a laundry detergent pick-me-up.
- My laundry basket tried its hand at comedy but sadly its career fabric softener moment it began.
- The laundry basket comedian came up with a new routine but decided to scrap it because none of the jokes held water.
- Did you hear about the laundry basket that was feeling under the weather? It had the suds.
- What do you call a laundry basket that moonlights as a comedian? A wash tub of laughs!
- Why can’t laundry baskets tell funny jokes? Because all their material gets washed up!
- Did you hear about the laundry basket that worked part time as a comedian? All its jokes ended up in the scrap pile.
- What do you call a laundry basket that tries too hard to be funny? A hamper-dime comedian!
- Why don’t laundry baskets make good comedians? Because their jokes always come out wrinkled!
- The laundry basket tried improv comedy but struggled to think outside the laundry bin.
- I asked my laundry basket to tell me a joke—it said “give me a second to dry one up!”
- Did you hear about the laundry basket that accidentally washed its joke notes? Now all its material is ruined!
- I think being a comedian would be my dream job, but mom says it would just remain a laundry basket case scenario.
Laundry Basket One-Liners (15)
- My laundry basket is so boring, even its jokes put me to sleep.
- I bought my laundry basket a joke book, but it didn’t find any of them funny.
- I tried to teach my laundry basket some new jokes, but comedy just isn’t its forté.
- My laundry basket tried its hand at prop comedy, but none of its routines held water.
- Don’t expect fresh jokes from your laundry basket—all it tells are old tales from the crypt.
- Q: Why is a laundry basket a bad comedian? A: None of their material holds up!
- I told my laundry basket to give me its best knock knock joke. It just rattled around awkwardly.
- Never ask a laundry basket to tell you jokes on laundry day—it will just spout dry humor.
- Q: What do you call a funny laundry basket? A: A figment of your imagination!
- I caught my laundry basket practicing some one-liners in the mirror but had to put a stop to its corny routines.
- My laundry basket tried to tell me a joke but forgot the punchline. Typical.
- I entered my laundry basket into the local comedy competition but had to apologize for its crude basket case jokes.
- Want to hear a laundry basket tell a joke? Exactly—it will just end up hampering the mood.
- Q: Why couldn’t the laundry basket become a famous comedian? A: None of its material could stand up to the competition!
- Never expect side-splitting jokes from your laundry basket—it simply lacks comedic timing.
Best Laundry Basket Jokes (10)
- My laundry basket recently took up stand-up comedy. It has a whole routine about clothes pins that brings the house down. But I have to admit, when it first started performing, its nervous rattling almost ruined the act. Thankfully it eventually got rid of its stage freight.
- I caught my laundry basket trying to sneak out to a local comedy club last night. When I asked where it was going, it said “I have a gig there telling laundry jokes!” I said there’s no way its jokes would stand up against seasoned comedians. But it insisted its laundry list of material would have people rolling in the aisles. Reluctantly, I loaded it in the car and tagged along. Turns out, it just made up the gig to trick me into driving it across town. Now that’s what I call a basket case!
- My laundry basket recently took an improv comedy class. I was quite amused as I watched it attempt some “yes and…” routines with the other baskets under the teacher’s guidance. When it got on stage to demonstrate what it had learned though, things went downhill fast. It turns out laundry baskets make very wooden improvisers. But hey, at least it was empty that day – if it had my dirty clothes inside, its schtick would’ve really stunk!
- I came home the other day to find my laundry basket practicing one-liners in front of the mirror. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I’m pursuing my lifelong dream of basket case comedy!” it rattled proudly. I shook my head in disbelief as it launched into a string of corny laundry jokes. When it got to the inevitable “put a sock in it” punchline, I decided I’d heard enough. “Don’t quit your day job pal,” I muttered, loading it up with towels and heading downstairs. Maybe it will eventually get that stand-up comedy is just not in the cards.
- Why did the laundry basket cross the road? To get to the comedy club! Sadly, the venue had a strict “no circular containers” policy and it wasn’t allowed inside. “This is hampering my act!” the laundry basket complained angrily. The bouncer just shrugged and said “them’s the breaks basket case.” Dejected, the laundry basket rolled back across the street, dreaming of the day it could finally share its spinning comedic gold.
- My laundry basket fancies itself an amateur comedian. The other day I overheard it practicing a new bit on sock sorting to an unimpressed mop. “C’mon, that’s comedy gold!” it rattled encouragingly. “I’m gonna laundry list all the ways white socks get lost in the wash—it’ll have the laundry room doubles over!” When it launched into an off-color joke about missing gym socks though, I had to put my foot down. “Keep it clean!” I scolded. “Your so-called ‘act’ is gonna end up in the dirty pile if you’re not careful!” The mop slowly edged out the open door as my basket continued perfecting its unsavory stand-up routine.
- Last night my laundry basket snuck out to try amateur comedy night at the local laundromat. “We have a special hamper-dime comedian joining us tonight,” the MC announced skeptically. “Put your hands together for…the Laundry Lad!” I sank low in my seat as my basket rattled onstage. It spun out a few amusing yarns about missing socks but quickly resorted to crude washroom humor. As the boos rained down, I knew it was time for some damage control. “Apologies folks, it’s past his laundry bedtime,” I said, hustling him offstage. No more comedy attempts for you my cranky clothes cage!
- My laundry basket has delusions of comedic grandeur. Each morning, I walk into the laundry room to find it practicing terrible puns in the mirror. “Wash I was funnier!” it rattles in frustration. Lately, its newest thing is prop comedy involving sorting socks on stage. Personally I think it should just stick to holding my dirty laundry. But try telling that to an aspiring basket case comedian! Yesterday I caught it doing squeaky clean knock-knock jokes with the dishrack. “Have you heard the one about the smelly shirt?” it whispered. The dishrack inched away, unamused. Face it buddy, nobody wants comedy from their laundry hamper!
- The other night my laundry basket snuck out and tried doing stand-up at a local open mic night. “Give it up for Laundry Lenny!” the MC announced. My plastic container rattled excitedly onto the stage and did a bit about missing dryer sheets. Crickets. Undeterred, it launched into a 10 minute sock-sorting routine. By minute three, people were heckling. By minute seven, drinks were being thrown. “Hey canvas for clothes, get off the stage!” someone eventually shouted. Dejected, my laundry basket rolled back home, its dreams of comedy glory dashed. Maybe stick to holding underwear pal.
- Last week I came home and caught my laundry basket trying out amateur comedy night at the laundromat downstairs. “We got a real basket case taking the stage next,” the MC declared. “Put your hands together for the Hilarious hamper!” Oh no. My basket rattled up full of dirty pride. “Did you hear about the missing tube sock?” it asked eagerly. “It vanished into thin wear!” Deafening silence filled the room. Undaunted, it launched into shaggy laundry dog tales next. The crowd’s reaction was pretty chilly by that point. Note to self— no more laundromat open mic nights!