they said, "you don't say!"
So it's been almost 3 weeks since a lockdown was triggered in the UK and there have been quite a few knock on effects.. Some good and some bad which I want to share in this post.
Firstly one of my friends lost his job. He worked as a psychic.. Never saw it coming. Its been a difficult couple of weeks and he is now considering a complete career change...considering becoming a baker of all things.. But I suppose he really kneads the dough. I suggested he focus on photography, but nothing ever developed.
Another of my friends was also made redundant. He managed to get a Skype interview for a position in Tescos within a few days. The interviewer asked him: "what is your biggest weakness?", he replied "I don't know when to quit". The interviewer said "OK, your hired". He said "I quit".
Work has been busy for me but since I can't enjoy the things I usually do I have been looking for some new things to do around the house. It's been nice have the thyme to do more cooking. I randomly started a boat building business in my garage.. Sails have gone through the roof.
In an unsettling reversal of my teenage years I am now shouting at my parents for leaving the house. I suggested they take up scrabble to keep them occupied.. Turned out to be a bad idea from the word go.
It's been great hearing about how world pollution levels have been failling. I read the story about fish now being visible in the canals in Venice.. I hope that story isnt a load of pollocks! Cod, these were eely bad. Will stop carping on now!
I asked if it was that good, his smile faded and he looked me dead in the eye as he said no, its fucking close to water. He poured it down the drain without losing focus and walked out of the kitchen
So once upon a time, there was a planet shaped like a cheerio. A small moon made of milk or tied the planet, going through the center of the donut shaped world. On this planet, lived an interesting species. They acted and lived similarly to us humans? But looked just like large Cheerios (with footings hands and feet like miis) Within this society there were levels of Cheerios: original, honey nut, and finally frosted. The originals were the backbone of the economy, doing the herd labor while the honey nuts ran the businesses and the frosted Cheerios (the top of the top) led the world. Our story today focuses on a single Cheerio. Born into an original Cheerio family, this lad learned the hard way how to work. From a young age, he was forced to get a job in the local milk refinery, where his dad worked. He grew up, and soon had a family of his own. His wife, son, and daughter all worked hard, but were happy. One day walking home from school, the kids found a runaway honey nut Cheerio pup, and decided to keep him. It wasn’t much, but it inspired our little Cheerio friend here. One day, he got fed up with taking orders, and demanded a raise. His entire family has worked in this one factory for three generations, and he wanted to move up in the world, not just for him but also his kids. His old boss however, did not have the power to promote this Cheerio, and he was forced to make a life changing decision: he would go to the refinery company and use every penny in the family savings account (under the bed) to try and get a higher position. After waiting on line for over a week, his appoint was finally here. After bickering and bargaining for hours, the refinery company boss saw a spark in this lad’s eye. He agreed to give this Cheerio a promotion to the honored honey nut glaze in exchange for everything this man owned, including the family’s prized honey nut dog. Was it worth it? Well pretty soon he owned his own milk refinery and was able to breed his own honey nut dogs, so yes, yes it was. Owning and operating the refinery went smoothly. Milk was transported from the moon to the planet using space busses, and the milk itself was funneled down to the refineries using large straws. After the milk was ready to drink, it was shipped off to be sold. He was happy working here, but eventually he realized it wasn’t enough. This Cheerio, once a simple original Cheerio wanted to follow the “American dream” and do the best he could. He wanted to become a frosted Ch
... keep reading on reddit ➡They're always out of focus
Why did the scarecrow win a prize? Because he stood alone in his field! He stood there for years, rotting, until he was forgotten.
I tell my kids, you’re allowed to watch the TV all you want… Just don’t turn it on! This way they will begin to understand the futility of all things.
How does a penguin build a house? Igloos it together. Like all animals, it is an automaton, driven by blind genetic imperative, marching slowly to oblivion.
Why don’t skeletons go trick or treating? They have no body to go with them! The skeletons are like us: alone, empty, dead already.
I don’t really like playing soccer. I just do it for kicks! Like all of humanity, I pretend to enjoy things, and others pretend to care about my charade.
You hear about the moon restaurant? Good food, no atmosphere! If you eat there, you forfeit your life, which would make no difference to the universe as a whole.
Why did the blonde focus on an orange juice container? It said concentrate! She realized that society’s depictions of her were like the juice: formulaic, insipid, fake.
My wife told me to put the cat out. I didn’t know it was on fire! By the time I could act, it was incinerated, a harbinger of the path we all must take.
How come the invisible man wasn’t offered a job? They just couldn’t see him doing it! This man stands for all of us: unseen, misunderstood, irrelevant.
Today I gave away my old batteries… Free of charge! No one wanted them, so I became angry and threw them in the yard. The battery acid now leaks into the soil, killing a colony of ants. A sparrow eats their bodies and is poisoned. Somewhere in the Serengeti, a lion devours his rival’s cubs. Then the lion is shot by a poacher and sold to an unloved rich man whose father was an unloved rich man. In five billion years, the Sun will become a bloated giant, boiling the oceans and consuming our pointless cruelties with flames. I wake sweat-drenched and screaming, staring at the visage of a faceless god. “WHAT HAVE I DONE?! HOW COULD I BRING A CHILD INTO THIS WORLD!?” But this god, like all gods, is nothing—just my son’s Wilson baseball mitt, sitting on my dresser, mocking me.
Will February March? No, but April May! Soon we become ash, and time forgets us.
Source: https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/nihilist-dad-jokes
I’ve lost Focus and I’m completely out of my Element.
So, I broke my foot four days before my wedding. And after a bunch of concerned texts and calls, I posted a status on Facebook that basically said "Thanks for the concern, I went to the ER and everything is going to be OK so I'm focusing my time on wedding planning now instead of worrying about my foot."
To which my uncle replies "You really should see a doctor, wouldn't want to start out on the wrong foot."
Once, there was a young woman who wanted to do a little psychological experiment. So she carefully bred cherry trees to bloom in multiple colors, and arranged to have them planted such that the trees of one color would spell out the name of some other color. You know, to test the Stroop effect.
However, the instructions (which were, admittedly, odd) weren't transmitted to the workers (all starving underpaid grad students) effectively, so the groups of various colored cherry trees were planted such that the colors matched the names, completely invalidating her experiment.
She's now the Stroop drupe group blooper girl, Stroop drupe blooper girl, Stroop drupe blooper girl...
She now focuses on Anglo-Saxon royalty.
For a little bit of background information, my dad suffers from multiple system atrophy and got a high fever, which turned out to be from a bad urinal tract infection. He has been at the hospital for almost 2 weeks now, and it is really hard on our family, but he is doing his best to get better and throws this small dad joke to lighten me and my brothers day.
A Speech Therapist comes every day to help him focus on his muscles in his face to help him swallow and speak clearer with simple gestures of noises and deep breathing. As she was done with his exercises, she said to him "Can you say goodbye, have a nice day! in a long sentence?" (As in one breath with no pauses). My dad then takes a look at me and my brother and says in his slurred voice "goodbye... have a nice day... in a long sentence".
The Speech Therapist just smiled and shook her head while we facepalmed...
Thumbs up Dad, I know you will come home soon!
There was a little boy who absolutely loved tractors, so for his 3rd birthday, his father bought him a little toy one. The boy thought this was the best toy he had ever gotten, and ignored all his other gifts to focus on the tractor, pushing it around the lounge whenever he got the chance, making tractor noises etc.
As the boy grows a little bit older, he comes to his 10th birthday, when his dad says "Alright son, you're a little older now, so here you go" before giving him a push-along ride-on tractor for their backyard. The boy thinks this is even better than his now quite old toy tractor, and is taking days off school and everything just to ride around the house and neighbourhood on his push-along tractor.
He gets a little older again, and lo and behold, it's now his 18th birthday. His dad comes up to him during the party and says "Ok son, you're a man now, so here you go" before unveiling a fully functional tractor for his son. "Wow, thanks Dad, this is amazing!" says the son, before taking it for a quick test drive. The tractor becomes his main transport, as he goes to the grocery store and just generally cruises in his brand new tractor.
He decides to take the tractor on it's first proper outing, and goes into the middle of nowhere, with no cell service or house to be seen for miles, and the tractor of course breaks down. It takes him a while to get in touch with AAA and his Dad to come and help him out, so he decides after that experience that maybe it would be a better idea to invest in a car than a tractor after all.
Lo and behold, a few years later, the now adult son is driving down the same road in his new car, although there's now a house there that is engulfed in flames! A lady comes out, screaming "Help! Help! Call 911, my baby is trapped inside!" The man simply stops and says "It's ok, mam, I've got this." He takes in a massive gulp of air, and the entire fire just disappears! The lady says "Wow, that's amazing! How did you do that?!" before the man responds with "Well, you see mam, I'm an ex tractor fan."
Janitor was focused on cleaning the bathroom, thought i popped in to say hello before leaving work:
Me: Hey whats' up... (apparently this startled him)
Him: man, you scared the shit out of me
Me: good thing you're already in the bathroom
._.
So he opened a towing company called StuckAuto. It was successful and he made 3/4 times the money which allowed him to retire and focus on his passion for martial arts.
He founded a new style based on starting slow and building up known as Crush en Do. This style gained fame when it was found to be the chosen style of a terrorist group operating out of our Nations Capitol known as the D.C. Al Coda.
So, when I was first learning to drive (actually my first time operating the car), my dad was teaching me to control the engine's RPM. However, he likes to troll me every once in awhile; this is what he did. Keep in mind we're parked in our driveway, parking break on, in neutral...
"Alright, weediereedie, you're going to want to hover around 2000 RPM, so I want you to really concentrate on keeping the engine at that speed. Hear what the engine sounds like when you go too far, or go under." I concentrate really intensely, and lose focus on what's going on around me. All of a sudden, my dad shouts in my ear "WATCH OUT THERE'S A TRUCK ABOUT TO CRASH INTO US!!" I immediately duck my head, cry out in fear, and slam my foot on the gas, while my dad cracks up in the passenger seat to the point of tears. Love you, Dad...most of the time :)
Bought some pizza slices and while I was filling up my drink from the soda fountain, there was a family of four talking about, of all things, medical professions. The daughter at the table said she thought a proctologist was basically a pervert since they'd be focused on butts all day every day.
The mom explained that you wouldn't call a heart surgeon who uses tools to literally crack open a person's chest cavity and muck around with things a serial killer, so why would you call a doctor who specializes in proctology a pervert?
The dad then chimed in "No that's not right... a serial killer is someone who uses Captain Crunch to murder another person!"
Silence at the table, and the daughter groaned rather loudly. I happened to make eye contact with the dad and just smirked and nodded, which made him beam, and walked out the door to hear him say "Right? Right guys?"
Well done, sir.
