61 Funny Sex Puns That Hit Different After Dark
Sex puns are the backbone of every terrible group chat, every awkward Valentine’s card, and honestly most of my personality at this point.
Weiners are just inherently funny. I don’t make the rules. Something about a food that’s also an insult, a dog breed, and a thing you probably shouldn’t google at work, it’s comedy’s gift to us, and I’m not gonna waste it.
I’ve been sitting on some of these for an embarrassing amount of time. Let’s go.
To be frank, I love a good weiner.
Every hot dog eating contest has a weiner, but only one has a weiner weiner.
What do you call a dachshund that wins a race? A real weiner weiner dog.
(I’m aware that’s three “weiner” adjacent words in a row. I’m aware and I’m not sorry.)
I relish every opportunity to make these puns.
Having a bun-derful time 🌭
My friend asked why I was so obsessed with hot dogs. I said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn about anything else.”
She didn’t laugh. She’s wrong though. That one’s gold.
It’s a weiner-take-all situation at this buffet.
Don’t get your buns in a twist.
What’s the difference between a pessimist and a hot dog? One fears the wurst, and the other IS the wurst.
Okay that one I’m genuinely proud of. Read it again. Let it marinate. (Marinate. Because meat. I’m not stopping.)
I told my coworker I was writing weiner puns and she said “how many could there possibly be?” Sixty. The answer is at least sixty, Karen.
This hot dog is a cut above the rest.
Why did the hot dog turn down a role in the movie? It didn’t want to be typecast.
Get it? Casing? Typecast? I know. I KNOW. Moving on.
Let’s meat up for dogs this weekend
I went to Vienna once and spent the entire trip making frankfurter jokes. My travel companion has not forgiven me. It’s been four years. Worth it, because I was on a roll the entire time.
What do you call a hot dog with nothing inside it? A hollow-weiner.
THIS IS MY FAVORITE ONE ON THE LIST. I need you to understand that I thought of this in the shower and literally said “yes” out loud. Halloween crossover pun energy. Chef’s kiss. The chef in this case is also grilling weiners.
I’m dog-gedly determined to finish this list.
Quick sidebar: did you know that “frankfurter” comes from Frankfurt, Germany, and “wiener” comes from Wien (Vienna)? So technically every weiner pun is also a geography pun. You’re learning things. On a pun blog. Wild.
I’m having a frank discussion about weiners and I refuse to acknowledge how that sounds.
“How was the BBQ?”
“Grill-iant.”
Every hot dog thinks it’s the top dog.
Why did the weiner go to therapy? Too many unresolved beef issues.
You’re the wurst, and I mean that in the best way 🌭❤️
Don’t be a brat, share your bratwurst.
(That one barely qualifies. I’m including it anyway because I have a word count to hit and a dream to chase.)
These sausages are all linked together. A real family affair.
What did the hot dog say to the bun? “You complete me.” What did the bun say back? “You fill me up.” This is a love story, people.
I’m feeling frank-tastic after that meal.
Joey Chestnut doesn’t just eat weiners, he speed-runs the entire encased-meat cinematic universe. The man is a Nathan’s-ional treasure.
If you don’t follow competitive eating, that one just sailed right over your head and tbh I respect that life choice.
What do you call a hot dog in winter? A chili dog.
Yeah. That’s the whole joke. It’s not my best work.
I tried to write a serious essay about the cultural significance of the hot dog in American society and it just kept devolving into puns. This blog post is basically that essay’s corpse.
My weiner dog ate my weiner. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there.
I’m bun-dled up with joy right now.
That’s a stretch. I know it’s a stretch. The bun-to-bun pipeline is getting thin. We press forward.
Why did the hot dog break up with the ketchup? It found someone with more relish for life.
Sausage-tisfied with my dinner. Completely sausage-tisfied.
You know what nobody talks about? The absolute hierarchy of hot dog toppings by region. Chicago dogs with the sport peppers and celery salt. Sonoran dogs wrapped in bacon with pinto beans. New York with the sauerkraut and spicy mustard. Detroit has a chili dog tradition that doesn’t get enough respect. Anyway,
What’s a hot dog’s favorite composer? Oscar Meyer… no wait. It’s obviously Weiner-r. As in, the composer Richard Wagner, whose name doesn’t actually sound like weiner at all, but the city of Wien gives us “Wiener” which is basically, okay look, this one falls apart under scrutiny. But if you know your Viennese classical tradition, there’s a pun in there somewhere and I’m claiming it.
Don’t be a weiner about it. Just eat the weiner.
That hot dog was bun-believable.
Current mood: on a roll 🌭
“I’m telling you, that was the best hot dog I’ve ever had.”
“You say that every time.”
“And I’m always being frank.”
What do you call a weiner that tells jokes? A pun-k sausage.
Nope. That’s garbage. Absolute garbage. I wrote it at 2 AM and I’m leaving it in as a monument to poor decisions.
I mustard-mit, these puns are getting out of hand.
Here’s one for the foodies who know their cured meats: What’s the difference between a weiner and a knackwurst? About two inches and a existential crisis.
If you’ve ever stood at a German butcher counter trying to explain what you want in broken Deutsch, you felt that one in your soul.
I asked my kid what he wanted for dinner and he said “not hot dogs again” and honestly I’ve never felt more betrayed. This is the child I’m raising? In THIS economy? Weiners are $3 a pack, kid. Show some respect.
What do you call a stolen sausage? A missed-steak.
Wait. That’s a steak pun. Wrong meat. I’m keeping it because the energy is right even if the protein is wrong.
Bun in the sun. That’s the whole vibe.
Why did the hot dog apply for a job? It wanted to bring home the bacon. (Which, if it’s a bacon-wrapped hot dog, is also a conflict of interest.)
We’re past fifty puns. FIFTY. And I haven’t even touched the Weiner surname angle. Anthony Weiner jokes are too easy and too cursed, so I’m not going there. You’re welcome.
What do hot dogs and bad puns have in common? They’re both better when they’re loaded.
I’m relish-ing every moment of this BBQ.
A hot dog walks into a bar. Bartender says, “We don’t serve food here.” The hot dog says, “That’s fine, I’m just here for the boos.”
BOOS. Like booing. But also booze. And hot dogs get booed at sporting events when they lose the sausage race. There are LAYERS to this one and I will not be taking criticism.
I’m not just any weiner fan. I’m a weiner fan-atic.
(Sorry.)
The German word for hot dog is actually just “Würstchen,” which means “little sausage,” and honestly that’s the most adorable thing about the German language. Every weiner is just a little guy. A little Würstchen. Idk why that makes me happy but it does.
Don’t be chicken, try the spicy weiner.
“How do you like your hot dog?”
“In my mouth.”
“…”
“What? I’m hungry.”
Fun fact: there’s an actual debate about whether the hot dog was invented in Frankfurt or Vienna, which means the frankfurter vs. wiener debate is basically the sausage equivalent of the Oxford comma argument. Everyone has an opinion, nobody’s changing their mind, and at the end of the day the thing still tastes good regardless of what you call it. Anyway: I’m taking Vienna’s side just so I can keep making weiner puns without guilt.
What did one hot dog say to the other on a hot day? “I’m grilling out here!”
Livin’ my wurst life 🌭✨
I went to a costume party dressed as a hot dog. Everyone said I looked overdressed. I said no, I’m in my natural casing.
NATURAL CASING. Come on. That’s brilliant. That’s a pun AND a sausage-making reference AND a fashion joke. Triple threat.
This weiner is a real top dog, a bona fide link to happiness, and frankly the best thing on this grill.
(Three puns in one sentence. I call that a combo meal.)
What’s the link between a good mood and a good hot dog? They’re inseparable.
Don’t brat about your grilling skills. Just show us.
I’m on a roll and I can’t stop, which is also what I say at every cookout when someone tries to take the tongs from me.
Okay I think we’re done here. Sixty-five weiner puns and I regret maybe four of them. The rest? No notes. Go text “livin’ my wurst life” to someone who doesn’t deserve it.
Sex puns are the backbone of every terrible group chat, every awkward Valentine’s card, and honestly most of my personality at this point.
I’ve been making puns lists for years now and honestly the meta-ness of making a puns list about lists has been haunting me like a to-do item I keep...
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