FarmHouse Puns

So, she walks over and takes a seat next to him on the bench, turns to him and says, "Sorry to bother you. I know this may be a little forward but I would love to grab coffee with you some time."

Flattered, the man responds, "Sure... but what makes you so certain you and I would get along so well?"

"Well..." the woman says. "A couple things, actually. I noticed you were wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Iron Maiden are my favorite band of all time. When they went on their reunion tour in 1999, my parents took me to see them in Cleveland. I was 12 years old and it was the first concert I ever went to. I absolutely love Iron Maiden."

The man can't believe it.

"I saw them play Cleveland in '99! First concert I ever went to on my own. My best friend Jimmy Spitz and I told our parents we were sleeping at each others' houses, snuck out, took a bus into the city and saw them play at the Plain Dealer Pavillion!"

Naturally, they're both shocked.

"If that isn't weird enough..." says the woman. "I noticed you're reading Mark Twain. I was a communications major in university and I actually wrote my thesis on Mark Twain and how he used satire as a lens to comment on current events of the time, comparing him to satirical news sources of today. He's my favorite author."

Now the man is really taken aback, "Get out of here! I was an English major in university! I specialized in 19th century American literature and this is like my fourth or fifth time reading Tom Sawyer, I absolutely love Mark Twain."

They both can't believe it...this has got to be a match made in heaven.

"Ok..." the woman says. "Well, buckle up because here's the icing on the cake. I noticed you're eating a prune. Prunes are my absolute favorite fruit. When I was a kid, my grandfather lived on a farm. He had an orchard that mainly grew apples and some lemons, but he knew how much my sister and I loved prunes so he kept a couple of plum trees. Every year at the end of the summer, we'd go up and harvest the plums with him. He'd dry them and by the time we'd go back to his place for Thanksgiving he'd always have those prunes saved just for us. They're my favorite fruit! I love prunes, you're eating a prune, this has got to be fate. What do you say?"

The man puts down his fruit and responds,

"It's a date!"

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

The insect police force was tracking one of these malaria-mosquitos, when the mosquito fled to a farm. First, she tried to hide in the house, until the farmer chased her away with a newspaper. She tried to hide in the barn with the horses, but the barn cat took a few swipes at the mosquito, and chased it from the barn.

Finally, the mosquito set eyes on sheep in the pasture.she decided all that thick wool would be the perfect place to hide from the insect police force.

The police force arrived shortly after. They first went to the house. No mosquito. They searched the horses. No mosquito. Finally, they got to the pasture with the sheep. After searching and searching, they could not find where the mosquito had hidden.

The mosquito was on the lamb.

My dad, my brothers, and I have been at our family farm (we don't live there) for the weekend of the 4th. Last night we were outside shooting off fireworks, as any real American does on the 4th. About 50 feet in front of the house is a 4 foot high fence. My dad discovered that one of the cracker launchers we had fit perfectly in the upper part to launch the crackers into the air at an angle. Always the cautious one of the bunch, I responded to his idea:

"I dunno dad, I'm on the fence about this one."

Naturally, my brothers congratulated me on how lame my jokes were and told me to go inside and make more hot dogs.

So, I used to have this cousin who lived in the country side. He subsistenced farmed, but worked as a carpenter before hand. He kept a few pieces of furniture, most notably his chair that he called his throne. So one day, he puts his throne on his roof, and its a grass house. He sits on said throne, that's on the roof. After sitting for a while he goes back down to get something to eat. As he climbs down, the chair falls through the ceiling, killing him. The Moral of the story? Don't stow thrones on grass houses.

A police officer, while out on patrol, pulls a brand new sports car over for speeding. He walks up to the car and sees a large, dirty pig in the passenger seat. The cop says to the guy driving "Why do you have a huge, filthy pig in this brand new car?" The guy says to the officer, "I don't know what to do. My father just closed his farm and sold the land, and gave me his prized pig. His farm was the last in the county, and I live in a small house. I have no idea what to do with this pig!" The officer then says to the guy, "Well, take him to the zoo!" The guys eyes brighten and thanks the officer for the brilliant idea. The officer lets the guy go, and off they drive to the zoo. A week later the same police officer is on patrol when he sees the same new sports car. He pulls the car over and walks up to it only to see the same pig in the passenger seat. "What are you doing?" says the officer, "I thought I told you to take that pig to the zoo!" "I did," says the guy, "and he had so much fun, I am taking him to the movies."

That was one of the two jokes my dad told me all the time when I was a kid.