I haven't had a lot of luck finding exactly what I need and thought I might reach out here for suggestions.
I'm looking for a relationship with a mfg to create corrugated fiberboard pads with the following specs:
Dimensions: 13 Inches x 7 Inches
Flute: C Flute / Running parallel to 13-inch side
Construction: Single-Wall
I'm hoping to find a relationship with a mfg with a MOQ of around 500-1000 and the ability to print mono ink marketing on one side of the boards.
Despite extensive searching online, I found no revelation for what the man, Louis Samuel, who’d started Wondabyne Quarry in the 1880s, could have been searching for. Nothing to substantiate Neil’s claims. All I could find was that the quarry had been opened to provide stone for the Mooney Mooney Bridge.
But I could see what Neil meant: Sydney sandstone was everywhere. There were many different places the people of the past could have quarried that stone. Why do it at Wondabyne when there were far more accessible places to mine?
But the name Samuel rang a bell. Going back to the records of Peter Malone, I confirmed it: the man Peter had stolen that handkerchief from, way back in the 1780s – the jeweller – was a Frederick Samuel.
Again, it seemed more something I wanted to believe: that all of this was tied together. Though my mind churned through thoughts and reasoning, I could find no concrete proof that Louis Samuel, the man who’d started Wondabyne Quarry, and Frederick Samuel, who’d lived a century before Louis, were related. The family tree was just too uncertain, and the handwriting of those digitised old documents not easy to read.
For what Neil had said about the “spirits” causing a dozen deaths over the decades… I was likewise uncertain about that. There was no simple “deaths list” for Wondabyne Quarry. By digging deeper, searching name after name after name for people I’d found who’d worked there, I did find a couple over my workweek who’d died at Wondabyne. There was no straightforward “death by ghostly presence” listed as their cause of death. One had been “met with misadventure by falling stone” at the quarry, and the other had had some kind of encounter with machinery that wasn’t detailed.
I couldn’t confirm Neil’s words there either, and by the time Friday night clocked over to late… I gave up my search and just sat back to stare at the paper compass, resolutely pointing north on my desk.
‘You gonna kill me if I go looking again tomorrow?’ I asked it.
Unsurprisingly, the piece of old paper didn’t respond. I sighed, treating it to a withering look.
The paper, I’d figured, wasn’t damaged enough to have been out in the weather for over two hundred years. If it was that old, as I’d started believing
... keep reading on reddit ➡I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
Do your worst!
I'm surprised it hasn't decade.
For context I'm a Refuse Driver (Garbage man) & today I was on food waste. After I'd tipped I was checking the wagon for any defects when I spotted a lone pea balanced on the lifts.
I said "hey look, an escaPEA"
No one near me but it didn't half make me laugh for a good hour or so!
Edit: I can't believe how much this has blown up. Thank you everyone I've had a blast reading through the replies 😂
It really does, I swear!
Because she wanted to see the task manager.
They’re on standbi
Pilot on me!!
Nothing, he was gladiator.
Dad jokes are supposed to be jokes you can tell a kid and they will understand it and find it funny.
This sub is mostly just NSFW puns now.
If it needs a NSFW tag it's not a dad joke. There should just be a NSFW puns subreddit for that.
Edit* I'm not replying any longer and turning off notifications but to all those that say "no one cares", there sure are a lot of you arguing about it. Maybe I'm wrong but you people don't need to be rude about it. If you really don't care, don't comment.
What did 0 say to 8 ?
" Nice Belt "
So What did 3 say to 8 ?
" Hey, you two stop making out "
I won't be doing that today!
[Removed]
Where ever you left it 🤷♀️🤭
This morning, my 4 year old daughter.
Daughter: I'm hungry
Me: nerves building, smile widening
Me: Hi hungry, I'm dad.
She had no idea what was going on but I finally did it.
Thank you all for listening.
There hasn't been a post all year!
You take away their little brooms
It was about a weak back.
It’s pronounced “Noel.”
I found an old paper compass that, it seems, only sometimes points north.
Despite extensive searching online, I found no revelation for what the man, Louis Samuel, who’d started Wondabyne Quarry in the 1880s, could have been searching for. Nothing to substantiate Neil’s claims. All I could find was that the quarry had been opened to provide stone for the Mooney Mooney Bridge.
But I could see what Neil meant: Sydney sandstone was everywhere. There were many different places the people of the past could have quarried that stone. Why do it at Wondabyne when there were far more accessible places to mine?
But the name Samuel rang a bell. Going back to the records of Peter Malone, I confirmed it: the man Peter had stolen that handkerchief from, way back in the 1780s – the jeweller – was a Frederick Samuel.
Again, it seemed more something I wanted to believe: that all of this was tied together. Though my mind churned through thoughts and reasoning, I could find no concrete proof that Louis Samuel, the man who’d started Wondabyne Quarry, and Frederick Samuel, who’d lived a century before Louis, were related. The family tree was just too uncertain, and the handwriting of those digitised old documents not easy to read.
For what Neil had said about the “spirits” causing a dozen deaths over the decades… I was likewise uncertain about that. There was no simple “deaths list” for Wondabyne Quarry. By digging deeper, searching name after name after name for people I’d found who’d worked there, I did find a couple over my workweek who’d died at Wondabyne. There was no straightforward “death by ghostly presence” listed as their cause of death. One had been “met with misadventure by falling stone” at the quarry, and the other had had some kind of encounter with machinery that wasn’t detailed.
I couldn’t confirm Neil’s words there either, and by the time Friday night clocked over to late… I gave up my search and just sat back to stare at the paper compass, resolutely pointing north on my desk.
‘You gonna kill me if I go looking again tomorrow?’ I asked it.
Unsurprisingly, the piece of old paper didn’t respond. I sighed, treating it to a withering look.
The paper, I’d figured, wasn’t damaged enough to have been out in the w
... keep reading on reddit ➡I found an old paper compass that, it seems, only sometimes points north.
Despite extensive searching online, I found no revelation for what the man, Louis Samuel, who’d started Wondabyne Quarry in the 1880s, could have been searching for. Nothing to substantiate Neil’s claims. All I could find was that the quarry had been opened to provide stone for the Mooney Mooney Bridge.
But I could see what Neil meant: Sydney sandstone was everywhere. There were many different places the people of the past could have quarried that stone. Why do it at Wondabyne when there were far more accessible places to mine?
But the name Samuel rang a bell. Going back to the records of Peter Malone, I confirmed it: the man Peter had stolen that handkerchief from, way back in the 1780s – the jeweller – was a Frederick Samuel.
Again, it seemed more something I wanted to believe: that all of this was tied together. Though my mind churned through thoughts and reasoning, I could find no concrete proof that Louis Samuel, the man who’d started Wondabyne Quarry, and Frederick Samuel, who’d lived a century before Louis, were related. The family tree was just too uncertain, and the handwriting of those digitised old documents not easy to read.
For what Neil had said about the “spirits” causing a dozen deaths over the decades… I was likewise uncertain about that. There was no simple “deaths list” for Wondabyne Quarry. By digging deeper, searching name after name after name for people I’d found who’d worked there, I did find a couple over my workweek who’d died at Wondabyne. There was no straightforward “death by ghostly presence” listed as their cause of death. One had been “met with misadventure by falling stone” at the quarry, and the other had had some kind of encounter with machinery that wasn’t detailed.
I couldn’t confirm Neil’s words there either, and by the time Friday night clocked over to late… I gave up my search and just sat back to stare at the paper compass, resolutely pointing north on my desk.
‘You gonna kill me if I go looking again tomorrow?’ I asked it.
Unsurprisingly, the piece of old paper didn’t respond. I sighed, treating it to a withering look.
The paper, I’d figured, wasn’t damaged enough to have been out in the w
... keep reading on reddit ➡When I got home, they were still there.
