For the Fallen Puns

They were maid for each other.

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 approval rating of dad jokes in my household has fallen farther and harder than Hans off Nakatomi in my household of late. Not to be a big baby, but it's been really disheartening for me.

We all know our dad jokes can get tiring and annoying; that's part of the point. True masters carefully toe the line between just enough and too much, and to great effect. We do it because we genuinely want to bring joy to those around us with almost child-like mirth.

Not be able to share that with my family lately has been disappointing.

But coming to this sub warms my heart. So thank you to all of you here.

I am very grateful. #obligatoryset-up;)

He was operating a late night train and fell asleep at the controls. He ended up failing to recognise a stop sign and as a result his train hit a person and killed them immediately. He was tried for manslaughter and sentenced to the electric chair. Just before being put in the chair, he was given the choice of final meal and chose a single banana, oddly. His time came and he was placed into the chair, the room vacated and then the switch was thrown.

But... Nothing. No sparks, no burning, nothing. They checked the machine and it was working fine, it just seemed not to harm him. The state law meant that, legally, his sentence had been carried out and he was free to go. He walked away a free man, and actually got another job as a train driver.

Sadly, almost exactly the same thing happened again. This time his negligence killed two kids playing around on the tracks when again he'd fallen asleep and failed to stop the train in time. Hauled before the courts again, he got exactly the same sentence - the electric chair. He was asked again for his final meal, chose two bananas this time, and his sentence was carried out again.

And yet again, he didn't die. In fact, he was entirely unharmed. The state law remained the same, so he was let out again, where - somehow - he got another job with another train company. I guess it was the only job he was trained for (pardon the pun). Anyway, this time he did much better and worked hard to stay awake during his late shifts. But sure enough, eventually he slipped back in to old habits and this time killed five people - a family trying to free their dog stuck in the tracks.

Once again he faced a jury, once again they found him guilty and a judge sentenced him to the electric chair. This time he asked for 5 bananas, but the guard was wiley - he has read about this man and how he always had bananas before his sentence was carried out, and so this time (with a grin, it's said) he brought the train driver 5 apples instead. The guilty man plead and begged for bananas, but the guard claimed it was an honest mistake but too late to change now.

The man was lead for a third time to the electric chair. His head was wetted, his arms strapped in, and the guard eyed him with something between wonder and fear. Finally the room was vacated and the switch thrown. Surely this time the machine would do its job? With the process finished, the guard ran back into the room, only to find the man still alive and looking entirely healthy. "I do

In the not too distant future, web censorship is pervasive; speech and freedom are strangers to one another; while pirates sail the seas with impunity, digital pirates are incarcerated by the busload.

Anyone who speaks out against this ban on open-dialogue or the free-sharing-of-ideas is ground down and hidden away, and the resistance is loosing its will.

A small group of contributors to reddit, huddled together in a bunker beneath barely-waving flags of Snoo, worked tirelessly to repost new ideas from around the internet, to release ideas from their chains, and make speech free ... again!

But it was not to be - a gang of the governments anti-piracy enforcers descended on this, the last bastion of humankind's will to share-freely. Arriving in an armored bus, ten shock-troopers breached the bunker and it looked like the day was lost.

Fortunately for us all, one brave redditor led the collective out a back entrance and they circled to the driveway. This leader told the other redditors to wait in the bushes while he overpowered the one soldier left guarding the transport. There was a flash of movement, a crack from a fallen branch as it struck the guard, and then, stolen keys in hand, the hero revved the engine and told the redditors to pile in.

He had to will himself ignore the gas gauge as he floored the accelerator on the 25,000 pound ticket to freedom - there was only survival or defeat, and nothing in between. Sirens came alive behind him as he rushed for the border to the promised land, to the Free-North.

As the engine begins to cough, the titanic weight of the transport cleaves the barricades asunder and the pursuing vehichles have to hard-brake to avoid skidding beyond their corrupt jurisdiction. Both exhausted and elated, the redditors follow their hero to the freedom promised by their new surroundings ... but their peril is not yet passed.

Though most of the pirate-hunters glower from the south-side of the border, one special agent has crossed over and is speaking with the border guards. The tension is thick. A long-faced guard turns to the newcomers, clearly troubled by what he must do.

"Folks," he says, a pained look on his kindly face, "I'm sorry, to do this, don't cha' know, but I got no choice, eh!"

Confused, the redditors look to one another, and tremble as they notice the agent's smug expression, greedy eyes fixed on the leader of the exodus.

"Look here, now, you are all welcome here, of course, and since speech is free here, we are

Funniest horse puns and jokes

A white horse walks into a pub and asks for a whisky. The landlord says: “Hey, we’ve got a whisky named after you.” The horse replies: “What, George?”

A horse trudges slowly into a pub and orders a drink. “Evenin’” says the barman, “why the long face?”

A horse walks into a smart cocktail bar. The doorman says: “Wait you can’t come in here without a tie.”The horse goes out to his car, looks in the boot and gets a set of jump leads, which he ties around his neck.He goes back in and says to the barman: “This alright?” The barman says: “Hmm, ok… but don’t be starting anything.”

A poorly-looking horse limps into a bar with a bandage round his head. He orders a glass of champagne, a vintage brandy and two pints of Guinness. He downs the lot and says to the barman: “I shouldn’t really be drinking this with what I’ve got?” “Why, what have you got?” “About £2 and a carrot.”

Which side of a horse has more hair? The outside What’s a horse’s favourite TV show? Neighbours

A racehorse owner takes his horse to the vet. “Will I be able to race this horse again?,” he asks The vet replies: “Of course you will, and you’ll probably win!”

Did you hear about the depressed horse? He told a tale of whoa!

A dead horse walks into a bar and orders a whisky.

“I’m sorry, sir,” says the barman. “We don’t serve spirits..

A talking horse walks into a bar and approaches the manager. “Excuse me, good sir,” the horse says, “are you hiring?” The manager looks the horse up and down and says, “Sorry, pal. Why don’t you try the circus?” The horse nickers. “Why would the circus need a bartender?”

Did you hear about the man who was hospitalized with six plastic horses inside him? The doctor described his condition as stable.

What did the horse say when it fell? “I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!”

Q. What does it mean if you find a horseshoe? A. Some poor horse is walking around in his socks.

A man rode his horse to town on Friday. The next day he rode back on Friday. How is this possible? The horse’s name was Friday.

Why did the pony have to gargle? Because it was a little horse!

What did the horse say when it fell? I’ve fallen and I can’t giddyup!

What did the teacher say when the horse walked into the class? Why the long face?

What do you call a horse that lives next door? A neigh-bo

As a Boy Scout, we would camp a lot and go on hikes.

One night, we had to do a night hike, alone, for a merit badge. I had left the campsite about an hour earlier and a terrible storm rolled in. The sky opened up and the ground was quickly saturated. I tried to continue my hike for another few minutes, but it got cold and I was chilled and soaked to the bone, so I decided to try to head back to camp.

Lightning was starting to crackle above me, so I thought I should try to take a shortcut to make my hike back quicker. I pulled out my compass and found my direction, but the rain made it impossible to see more than five feet in front of me.

I was looking down at my compass, not paying any attention to where I was going, and suddenly felt weightless. The feeling didn't last long as I thumped down on slippery earth a second later.

I had fallen onto a ledge on the side of a rather steep cliff, the bottom of which was at least fifty feet down.

I sat there, contemplating on how to get back up this cliff as water rolled over the edge ten feet above me. There was nothing to grab onto to pull myself up. I was stuck there.

After a few minutes, I noticed the little ledge I was standing on was slowly getting smaller. The water was coming down so hard it was eroding the tiny bit of safety I had.

I dug through my pockets, thinking maybe I had something, anything, to help me out of my precarious situation. All I had was my compass, a cough drop, and a match. I was screwed.

So, I sat there, watching the edge of the ledge I was on get closer and closer to my feet, when suddenly I felt something pushing on my back.

I turned slightly and saw a wooden box sticking out of the cliff behind me. It was working its way out of the side, the rain surely helping it along. I tried to move away from it, but the ledge wasn't very wide and the box kept coming out, pushing me farther to the weak and failing edge.

As more of the box came out, to my horror, I realized it was a coffin! I had no idea how old it was, but it looked rather rotten. All I could think of was being pushed off this ledge, and the rotten coffin breaking and dropping a skeleton onto my broken and battered body at the bottom.

The coffin crept closer, my foot began to slip. I grabbed onto a root that was sticking out of the cliffside and dug in my pocket once more.

I hurriedly tore the wrapper off the cough drop and stuck it in my mouth. It stopped the coffin.

This joke has been told to me

Talking with a friend yesterday and dropped this one from his childhood:

When he was six years old, he was riding in the car with his parents when he saw a "Fallen Rock" sign on the side of the road. He asked his dad what it meant, to which his dad replied, "when the white man came through here and kicked out the Indians, there was one that they couldn't catch, Fallen Rock who ran off and hid in the woods. He has been angry at the white man ever since hunts them down. The sign lets people know Fallen Rock has been seen in the area and to watch out for him."

He believed it for years and would always look for Fallen Rock when they saw one of the signs.

Edit: spelling

My local is called 'The Red Lion' - pretty typical for a British pub. However, the letter D had fallen off the sign above the door.

My grandfather, in true dad form: "Unlike the sign out the front, that pub you really can re lion."

My girlfriend and I were in the vet's office when she mentioned seeing a cat in the middle of the road that had been struck by a car earlier that day. We had both seen it and she said that there needed to be a moment of silence for the fallen kitty.

I said, "more like a meowment of silence..."

She called me an idiot as I laughed for a good minute or so.

My dad and I go visit my grand mother at her nursing home. We walk into her room and she had fallen on the floor and hit her head. Blood had pooled beside her. As the nurses come and get her into a chair her white hair was completely covered in blood, first thing my dad says after yelling for the nurses "at least we know what she would look like as a red head."