Ain't nobody ever rooted so much for me before.
An air conditioner.
Windmills.
But I will say it's the healthiest way to prepare punk.
I only watch it periodically.
Everything he did was pro Bono
Every night I hear her Tolkien in her sleep.
But my now my opinion has suede.
My Dad chimes in "Well, if you change your mind!"
My dad saw me about to make some chicken noodle soup. Knowing I wasn't feeling well he offered to make it for me instead. I accepted his offer and sat down on the couch. Once it was done, my dad hands me a bowl of the hot soup and extends a spoon towards me. I look at the spoon but notice as I'm about to grab it, it's one of those strainer spoons, the big ones with the holes in it. I give him a dumbfounded look, and he proceeds to bust out laughing as he takes a normal spoon out from behind his back, hands it to me, and walks back to the kitchen chuckling to himself the whole way. Gotta love that guy.
At the moment, I was his biggest fan.
The biggest fan
"I'm not the biggest fan."
. . . . They were surrounded by all of their biggest fans.
He said "I'm your biggest fan."
Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
“Yes of course” replied Trevor
... keep reading on reddit ➡Me: Let me see your fan.
Friend: *shows me fan*
Me: I'm much bigger than that. Some might even say your biggest...
Friend: I need you to leave.
I'm your biggest fan!
A number of years ago I was in a rock band. We were hugely successful, playing some of the biggest venues and entertaining swarms of fans.
The last shoes we ever played were on our world tour. We played the Americas and then flew over to Europe. We played our way through Russia and even a couple of gigs in China, before selling out our final show in Japan.
It was a hell of a Journey, but it was time for me to hang up my guitar. I retired from the rock star life and got an office job in Tokyo.
I made a few friends at work, and grew close with one in particular, Narada-san. One day Narada had the day off for a funeral, but that wasn't enough; he needed more time. He was torn between his obligation to return to work and his desire to have more time at home. He asked me what he should do.
The answer was simple. I picked up my guitar and played a Japanese version of our biggest hit from 1981:
Don't Stop Bereaving
They say it's Mother nature's biggest fan.
It provides me energy and it’s also my biggest fan.
Today it was hot and humid in our office and the AC wouldn't kick on so we were crowded around an oscillating pedestal fan... Our boss walked up and said:
"What is this? A fan club?"
I looked at him and said,
"This IS our biggest fan."
Others followed, but I'll let you all join in.
"Look, son! Its my biggest fan!"
"here she comes, with her biggest fan!"
Points to ceiling fan "This is my biggest fan."
The band I'm in was setting up for an outdoor gig in the heat of the late summer afternoon. The drummer (an old guy) said, "Time to pick up my biggest fan!" He strolled over to his car and grabbed a box fan and set it up near his drum set.
I can't believe I took him seriously for a minute.
"Is this your biggest fan?" Then breaks out laughing *facepalm
Tractors were his biggest hobby. He had lots of toy tractors and on weekends he would go and watch the farmers drive their tractors around in the fields. As he grew older, he still liked tractors, but not as much because he started to find other interests. When he turned 20 he met a beautiful girl and fell in love. One night he decided to take her out for dinner to a local restaurant. As they were eating, the whole room started to fill up with smoke. Everyone was panicking so he jumped up and said "calm down, I've got this!". He stood on his chair and sucked in all the smoke in the room, then walked outside and blew it all out. When he returned back into the resturant, his date said to him "oh my god how did you do that?!" To which he replied: "I'm an ex-tractor fan."
It was hot inside the venue. Shtty Adlts played a sweet set and said, "Thanks guys, and especially to our biggest fan," and pointed at the industrial fan.
