She was the fairest of the mall.
My boyfriend and I were walking through town and as we were walking past a cemetery he turned to me and said... Him:"Do you know what that is?" Me: "What?" Him:"The dead centre of town."
The graveyard cuz people are dying to get there
People are dying to get in!
You have to be dead to be buried there.
The GPS blurted out, "you have reached your final destination"
Now people keep finding dead ends.
4 best dadjokes when driving past a cemetery:
- That’s the dead centre of town. 2. People are dying to get in there. 3. A man tried to sell me a coffin there today; I told him that’s the last thing I need! 4. Actually, the man who invented the crossword is buried there… his grave is 5 down & 7 across!
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
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Ayr Town Centre!!!
Drove past a cemetery today. Kid in back seat, wife in front. I said "Look! people are dying to get in there". Then, " that is the dead centre of town "... & as always " the Council says you cannot be buried there if you live within 5 miles of that cemetery" Wife stated .... " you need new cemetery jokes".
Help!
My mum and dad had separated by this point and he was picking me up from the town centre where I was with a girl I was seeing, named Jenni. After introducing herself my father paused for a second, let out a slight smirk and replied "What, from the block?" slapped his thigh and let out a hearty dad-chuckle.
"Did you know we're driving by the dead centre of town?"
I was traveling with my Dad today in the car when we passed the funeral directors; it's the dead centre of the town!
We were driving past a cemetery in a new town, and my Dad points to it and says: " that's the dead centre of town"
I guess we're in the dead centre of town.
Hey kids, look, it's the dead centre of town, people are just dying to get in.
Dad comes into my room all nonchalant...
Dad: do you know where the cemetery is?
Me: no, I don't. Where is it?
Dad: the dead centre of town
Leaves.
