Can't wait for summer, had enough of this...
๐Ÿ‘︎ 8
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/inspiringlondon
๐Ÿ“…︎ Dec 05 2018
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
This story is about a man called Trevor, and his obsession with tractors.

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 Trevorโ€™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.

Trevorsโ€™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 Trevorโ€™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 wasnโ€™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.

โ€œWellโ€ said Jeff, โ€œAs Iโ€™m sure you know the convention comes to town laterโ€.

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.

โ€œYes of courseโ€ replied Trevor

... keep reading on reddit โžก

๐Ÿ‘︎ 10
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/ShredderSte
๐Ÿ“…︎ Aug 07 2020
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
So proud of my son

My son was a councilor at a summer camp for kids.

One day he came home from work and told me that he heard me come out of his mouth twice in one day.

Whenever we drove somewhere with the kids, the answer to the inevitable question, "how much longer till we get there", was 20 minutes, whether it was 5 minutes or 5 hours.

So, they were taking a bus load of kids to the baseball stadium and one kid asked, "how much longer till we get there", and my son almost bit his own tongue off when he heard himself say , "20 minutes".

While they were waiting on line to enter the stadium, another kid asked, "How long do we have to wait?" My son answered, "four minutes and 60 seconds." This elicited the response, "That's too long," to which he replied, "well how about five minutes".

He tried to bash his own head against the rocks.

I'm so proud. :-)

๐Ÿ‘︎ 75
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/small_e_900
๐Ÿ“…︎ Sep 06 2013
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
Dad joked by a stranger today.

I wash windows for a summer job when i am home from college.

Today I was washing a window to a nail salon when an older gentleman was walking past, and he hit me with a zinger.

"How's the window washing business going?"

<without waiting for a response> "You must be cleaning up!" He then walked away chuckling to himself.

๐Ÿ‘︎ 14
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/joebags15
๐Ÿ“…︎ Jun 27 2014
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
Every time my dad tells this it gets just a little more elaborate. But this is how I remember it.

Paul has a shitty life, his wife constantly berates him, his job sucks, his boss is a bully, his car is a shitty 85 ford pinto with a cracked windshield and is in bad need of a new transmission and to top it all off he's chubby, balding, and he has a small penis.

The only thing good in Paul's life is his friend Artie. Artie isn't the brightest bulb in the world, but he's always been there for Paul in the tough times. On October 5, 1953 Artie stood up for Paul against his bully in 7th grade. Artie got his ass handed to him at that time, but so did Paul. That incident resulted in a life long friendship. Paul and Artie went to the same High School together. They traveled around Europe that one summer in college. Artie was Paul's best man at his wedding. Everyone thought speech Artie gave was terrible, But Paul loved it Artie was his best friend.

Artie's life wasn't much better either, he never had the smarts for that great Job. In fact he was stuck in a dead end job as a construction labourer. Artie's car was pretty shitty too. Artie never married, but he was happy in the knowledge that at least he didn't end up with Paul's shitty wife.

For Paul's 46th birthday Artie was pretty broke, so all he could get his friend was a single lottery ticket. Artie being the sentimental guy that he was picked the date of the start of their friendship, and their respective ages (46, 45). Paul loved the present, and thought that the two of them should go to the Legion that friday to split a round of beers and listen to them call out the numbers.

On Friday they are both sitting there at the Legion having a laugh over a couple of beers when the cute lottery girl comes on the t.v. to read out the numbers. Paul pulls out the ticket and spreads it out on the beer stained table in front of them. The lottery girl starts reading out the numbers, 45, 10, 05. Both of Paul and Artie's hearts start beating, thats 200$ already. 53, Holy crap thats like a 10, 000 ticket. They both start losing their shit. 46....... Paul feints. He just won the jackpot. 37million dollars.

Two minutes later Artie finally revives Paul. Paul and Artie celebrate the night away, buy round after round for the people at the Legion and get absolutely shittered. They close out the bar and as the ugly lights come on they stumble blitzed, singing, onto the street arm in arm with the winning lottery ticket in hand and start the long walk back to Paul's place.

Halfway home, Paul comes to two drunken

... keep reading on reddit โžก

๐Ÿ‘︎ 9
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/clearwind
๐Ÿ“…︎ Feb 22 2014
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
Cooking Instructions

Decided to cook myself a steak for dinner so I text my dad "how do you season steak." My phone autocorrected "steak" to "streak" without me noticing. My dad responds with "You wait until the summer when it is warmer." It took me far too long to realise what he was talking about.

๐Ÿ‘︎ 4
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/Rabbidcow
๐Ÿ“…︎ Mar 28 2015
๐Ÿšจ︎ report
Dadjoked the guy whose kids I babysat a while ago.

When I was in high school, I babysat 2 boys (who at the time of this story, were aged 7 and 10) for some extra cash. One day I was eating dinner with the family when the younger brother said that he couldn't wait to be in the fourth grade like his older brother.

"It's not that great," said the older one. "Once you're in the fourth grade, you have to read a bunch of books for a summer reading log and write a report on one." (In my county, there are mandatory summer assignments, the most common ones are English assignments.)

Their dad said, "Summer projects are good! They help stimulate your brain over the summer! If you don't brush up on your education for those three months, you could lose all of your smartness and never get it back!"

Older brother: "Yeah right. And how did you find that out?"

Me: "Well, they do say that firsthand experience is the best way to learn."

๐Ÿ‘︎ 4
๐Ÿ’ฌ︎
๐Ÿ‘ค︎ u/lauralola
๐Ÿ“…︎ May 03 2014
๐Ÿšจ︎ report

Please note that this site uses cookies to personalise content and adverts, to provide social media features, and to analyse web traffic. Click here for more information.