They give no quarter!
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 ➡
They ask No Quarter.
BACKGROUND: I'm a sleep technologist and there's an intercom connecting my office to the patients' rooms. They call out when they need something (eg. blanket, bathroom visit, etc.)
Patient calls out, "Hey, what time is it out there?" so I replied "Probably the same time it is in there, why?"
The patient was too sleepy to be amused but it made me laugh.
Him: No, I told you I’ll be home by a quarter of twelve.
...and I noticed that the tire pressure was low. Me: Can you hand me some quarters so I can pump up the tire? Wife: $.75 right? Me: No, it’s $1.00 Wife: Really?? Me: Yeah, that’s inflation for ya Wife: 😒
I needed to run to Home Depot just a little while ago, and my eight year old son has been driving my wife insane, so he was sent with me. He asked a hundred questions about what tool does what and why I needed this or that. Despite my distracted supervision, he surely mixed up several loose nuts and bolts.
At the exit of the self checkout line, there's a massive gumball machine that holds massive gumballs. I rarely carry change, so he's out of luck.
Sonny Boy: Dad, can I have a quarter?
Me (checking out): Nope. Don't have one.
Sonny Boy: You don't have any cents?
Me: If I had any cents, I'd have left you at home tonight.
No, he didn't get it, and I'm shocked he set it up so well by saying cents. But, the dude in the line next to me let out a solid guffaw. We made the satisfying, knowing eye contact of two dad joke aficionados. I'm glad someone else heard it.
Because they always give no quarter.
They both say “I GIVE NO QUARTER!!”
This story happened, just shortly after my daughter was born, at work.
I had a coworker who hated puns. I had made a particular bad one, I completely forget what it was. Just an on the fly thing.
Suddenly my coworker stands up and the following exchange happens:
Him (loudly proclaiming): Puns are awful. They're terrible. Puns are the lowest form of comedy. Only the most infantile people laugh at puns. We need to have a pun jar... like a swear jar, but instead of swearing we put a quarter in it every time someone makes a pun.
Me: (after a short silence) That sounds like a GREAT idea.
Him (confused): No, it's like a swear jar but you put money into it when you swear.
Me: Yeah I understand that
Him: You'd be the hardest hit with that.
Me: Yeah, I understand that. Nevertheless it has my wholehearted support.
Him: (Now very VERY confused) Why would you support something that would hurt you more than anyone else?
Me: Because... we could totally call it the PUNishment jar.
There were three people who clearly heard this exchange. Each one busted out laughing so hard... one of them was pounding his fist into his desk. The look on this poor guy's face: priceless.
I went through a McDonald's drive-thru and ordered a quarter-pounder meal. The cashier wanted to confirm my order:
Her: Did you have the quarter meal?
Me: No, I wanted the whole thing.
Me: Did you know a quarter pound is sometimes called a german rave?
Wife: What? Really?
Me: Yea! Ounce, ounce, ounce, ounce
Usage: I would like a german rave with cheese, no pickles
Allow me to regale you with a couple tales illustrating my late dad's sense of humor. Last names faked because I'm not that stupid.
(1). At a routine PTA meeting about me in my Georgia school, everyone found themselves packed into a hot and stuffy room waiting for the boredom to end. Shoulder to shoulder fun, can you picture it?
My dad lets one rip. It's loud, smelly, and echoes. The room falls silent as the fart invites itself unfavorably to the nostrils of those in attendance.
He turns to my mom and with his best shocked face says, "... Patty!"
I like to think he slept on the couch that night.
(2). During my old man's wait for us to arrive at the new home he had bought, he had to deal with ongoing construction and roughed it at a hotel for a few nights. He was a retired Master Chief Machinist's Mate, so cramped quarters reminded him of the sub's nuclear engine room. No biggie.
An interview comes up for a civilian nuclear power plant nearby, and before you know it my dad's sitting before these stuffy, serious, wrinkly old board members and managers, having his (mostly military) resume picked through.
"Well Mister Smith, we're impressed. Twenty two years is no small amount of time to dedicate to the service. But do you feel you're qualified to operate and audit a civilian fission power plant?"
My dad thinks on it for a second.
"Well no, sir, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night."
He got the job immediately.
Thanks for caring to read. I miss him a lot and this subreddit always reminds me of his sense of dry, quick humor. Take care!
"Around a quarter past."
My grandfather gives that answer every single time you ask him what time something will be, no matter what the subject. It's hilarious and infuriating in equal measure.
"When do you plan on going on holiday this year?
"Around a quarter past."
My dad keeps a Kentucky State quarter in his pocket at all times. He will pull it out of his pocket and hand it to somebody. When they look at it, he will ask if they know what kind of horse is pictured. Once they respond with whatever breed they think it may be, he responds with "No, it's a quarter horse of course!"
Important to know: Three of my grandparents grew up in Indiana, the other in Ohio. People from Ohio get made fun of a lot in Indiana. They're nicknamed Buckeyes.
My dad asked where I've been applying to jobs, when I told him I'm looking to move to Cincinnati, Ohio. Then he says, "Ohio? You're gonna be a full blood Buckeye yet! No wait, a one and a quarter! A dollar twenty-five!" Then he laughed so hard that he had to pass the phone to my mother. The last time I heard him laugh that hard, he was watching the Three Stooges.