A list of puns related to "Something So Strong"
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 ➡EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.
( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )
Hey everybody,
The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.
Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.
You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.
That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.
So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.
Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:
Here's what I am not looking for:
If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int
... keep reading on reddit ➡A high schooler wants to ask his best female friend to prom. Because they’ve been friends for so long, he really wants to make his “promposal” special. He talks to his friends, he talks to her friends, and spends days planning the perfect moment. Happily, she says yes!
Over the next couple of months, she sends him different styles and colors of ideas for her dress. He tells honestly that she’s always been beautiful to him, and privately to himself, he is now realizing he has strong feelings for her. He knows he needs to tell her.
The night of the prom, he’s extremely anxious. What if he says something stupid? What if she laughs at him or doesn’t return his feelings? What if she thinks he’s a terrible dancer? All of these thoughts are swirling around in his mind as both their parents fuss over them and make them pose for a million photos.
They get to the prom and he’s even more anxious. It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s crowded. They have to shout to be heard. But she grabs his hand, leads him to the dance floor, and they forget everything and everyone around them. A while later, as the songs have gotten slower, he can feel his heart pounding. He thinks it’s finally the right time. He leans down and whispers the truth in her ear, the truth about having loved her since they met in second grade. She starts to cry happy tears, saying she’s always loved him too, and they kiss. As the song ends and changes to something fast again, he asks her if she’d like to sit and have a drink. She says yes, could he please get her some punch?
He feels like he’s walking on clouds as he goes over to where the drinks and food are laid out. He wants to get back to her right away and hopes he doesn’t have to wait too long at the refreshments table.
He makes his way through the crowd, and is able to get their drinks and return to his waiting love within just a couple of minutes. Because, would you believe it?
There was no punch line.
If your onion sang hip-hop, would that be a rapscallion?
I used to be an astronaut, but I got tired of eating out of satellite dishes. I wasn't allowed to eat the Milky Way, even though I had to look at it every day. The worst thing was, I never got to visit The Space Bar. Then, when I was visiting the dark side of the moon, I was bitten by a parasite. Now, you might think it's crazy, but the doctor who removed it called it a lunar-tick.
If "womb" is pronounced "woom" and "tomb" is pronounced "toom", shouldn't "bomb" be pronounced "boom"?
China recently tested a new steroid. It basically turns you into The Hulk. The side effect is it could turn you into a crazed zombie that tends to rip the upper extremities from people. People are saying that this could be the zombie apocalypse. In my opinion, lips have nothing to do with it. I call it ARMageddon. The only way to stay safe now is to not let anyone close enough to disarm you.
I recently was going to join the railroad union. I decided against it because it's complicated. If I received instruction on driving the locomotive, would they call it engineering, or training?
I got a sad story about a flower. I don't know who the heck she pissed off, but damn, now she's a Black-Eyed Susan.
I finally figured out what makes leaves angry. Fall. They get so mad they change color. Some are yellow. They're just afraid and run from their problems. The other ones usually just leave.
I went parachuting with my military buddies once. We landed on a department store. I told him I think we're at the wrong coordinates. He said: "Nope. We're right on Target"
I asked a psychologist if Native Americans have strong emotions. He said "Oh yeah, they're intense".
If a psychotic person thought something made sense, would that thought be psychological?
If Matt Damon were searching for a secondhand store, would he be Goodwill Hunting?
My friend is a Marksman for the military. One day, he went to the armory and asked for 3 snipers. They gave him a candy bar. It was a 3 Musketeers.
I want to be there if Dwayne Johnson ever uses a pizza stone. That way I can smell what "The Rock" is cookin'.
Christopher bought a lemon, and the car broke down. Now Christopher Walken.
Have you heard about the latest bank battle on Wall Street? Capital One and Chase got in a fight and Capital One.
You know what a pirate says to his wenches when he sees the shoreline? "LAND HO!"
A man finds a lamp in the desert and dusts it off. Poof! A genie p
... keep reading on reddit ➡So, today my girlfriend broke up with me. To keep it short, we were together for a few month and everything happened really fast. Bla bla bla, she said something about how she always felt comfortable around me but never could develop any strong love feelings for me.
She: "This week I was thinking a lot about us, our relationship and future and I took off my 'cheesy being-in-love-glasses' Me: Well, I know you're still wearing your contacts..." (she actually did)
So I got that going for me which was nice. But now I'm sad.
Back a few decades, I was working in a program with a local college in the Middle East.
The name of the program for ExPats has the clever acronym of "IDEA" (hey, I said it was clever); which stands for "Inter-Departmental Educational Adjunct". It's interdepartmental because my particular specialty not only covers field geology but also paleontology and a bit of archeology thrown in for good measure. Everyone hopes to have a good IDEA...
ahem...
Well, we saddle up and head for the Dune Sea out in the west of the country, where the Precambrian, Cambrian, Silurian, Cretaceous, Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene crop out and access is relatively easy and non-injurious.
Well, we caravan out, some 30 Land Cruisers, Nissan patrol, and the odd Mitsubishi Galloper strong. We all get our maps, compasses and split up into 5 or 6 special interest groups ("SIG's"); where each IDEA has his own GPS and LIDAR laser ranging apparatus. Reason being, that there are very few benchmarks out in the desert, and even those are constantly at the mercy of the shifting and ever-blowing sands.
Since we're split into groups and at any one time, ranging up to and including some 50 km2, when a real find is located, a device called the "DIME" (Digital-Interface Monitor Encoder) is attached and programmed into the GPS for location later; it is a digital sort of low-frequency transponder, developed from technology used by offshore drillers and jacket setters where benchmarks are even more transitory.
The way it works is rather simple. When something is to be marked for later retrieval, a series of wooden posts are pounded in a triangular manner around the find and the DIME is set, programmed with the GPS and attached to one or more of the posts.
That's the theory, at least.
Everything works well, especially all the hardened electronics and computer gizmos, but attaching the DIME to the stakes is the real problem. It can't be nailed, screwed or fastened with any sort of metal contrivance as that farkles the magnetic field and causes all sorts of goofy spurious signals. Zip ties don't last long in the heat and duct tape is right out. Many sites have been lost to the shifting sands this way.
Velcro doesn't work too well, as the sand fills the hooks of the receiving piece of velcro and soon renders it useless. String or fishing line work, but that's temporary (they melt). Glue or mastic are out as these are supposed to be temporary. Even plastic sleeves don't work due to the heat out
... keep reading on reddit ➡I recently tore all the ligaments in my ankle and I’m still in rehab. I was on the sidewalk concentrating on my crutches when a construction worker popped up in front of me. Initially I thought he was going to tell me I was walking under something dangerous; halfway through I thought he was going to ask me out; then Jesus happened:
“Hey, that looks like it hurts!”
“Naw, it’s not bad, it’s much better now.”
“Running? Skiing? How’d you do it?”
“Rock climbing.”
“Rock climbing! Wow, so you must be strong, eh?”
“Yeah, I’m ripped.”
“ … ripped? Really?”
“Yeah, I’m super ripped.”
“ … oh. Wow. Not joking.”
“Yeah, I’m joking. I’m not actually ripped.”
“ … ahaha … hah. That was good.”
“Yep.”
“So, I’m Christian.”
“Hi, Christian.”
“... and I don’t know if you’ve read the Bible, but the Bible says that laying on of hands, especially for our fellow Christians, will heal. And I’ve …” etc.
It took me a block to realize that I’d accidentally made a Dad joke.
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