Clear Spot Puns

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

A couple of nights ago my girlfriend and I spotted a white jackrabbit in the field near our house. We noticed one again tonight on our drive home:

Girlfriend: Hey look, it's the Easter bunny.

Me: Huh, pretty sure that's the same jackrabbit from the other night.

Girlfriend: Can't be a jackrabbit, its ears are way too small.

Me: We're clearly just splitting hares here, babe.

It took a second, but she responded with the desired groan and the "you're an idiot" face push-away. Victory.

A man sat with his son one day and told him a story of him and his father:

One day, his father took him to their special spot by the lake, a large clearing, once full of beautiful flowers but now all that stood in their place were numerous holes due to moles making their homes in the field.

His father asked him to count holes and tell him how many there were. He took all day but managed to find 300 holes.

His father then took him to another field that had been ravaged by moles and asked him to count how many holes there were. He managed to find 400 holes.

His father then asked him how many holes there were total, and he replied "700 holes, dad, but why did you make me count the holes?"

His father smiled and replied, "Well son, it might not be a very interesting tale; but it's a hole sum story you can tell your kids in the future!"

when he spotted a turtle asleep on a log. So, he ambled on over and kicked it clear across the river.

"What did you do that for?" Asked a passing giraffe.

"Because I recognized it as the same turtle that took a nip out of my trunk 53 years ago."

"Wow, what a memory" commented the giraffe.

"Yes," said the elephant, "turtle recall".

An ice fisherman hauls his gear across the ice to his fishing spot. He puts his gear down and begins to cut his hole into the ice. A few seconds after he begins, he is startled by a booming, ominous voice;

"DO NOT CUT A HOLE IN THE ICE."

He shrugs it off and decides he is clearly hearing things, so he resumes cutting his hole into the ice. A few seconds later, again;

"DO NOT CUT A HOLE IN THE ICE."

Clearly he isn't hearing things and begins to feel a bit scared. He still needs to feed his family however, and so resumes his cutting. A third time he hears the voice;

"DO NOT CUT A HOLE IN THE ICE."

This time he puts down his saw, looks to the sky and asks, "God? Is that you?"

"THIS IS THE ICE RINK MANAGER. DO NOT CUT A HOLE IN THE ICE!"