She is infringing on my right to bear arms.
A Goldy-smack with a cold sack in a cul de sac, which is more than a bear with beer could bare.
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 ➡One wrestles bears, the other barely rustles.
Helping my dad move in. One room had nothing in it yet, and was completely empty besides a nightstand and a painting of two bears dancing in a forest.
My dad walks in: "Wow, this room is too bare".
Me: stares Dad: "Two. Bear."
(He hands me an ornament of a small teddy bear in overalls) Me: where should I put this one? Him: how about right there? Me: yeah, that would be good Him: yeah that spot just looked a little bare Me: (looks at the little bear in my hand)(laughs uncontrollably for several minutes while daughter stares at us)
Bear Grylls grills bear with bare girls with bare grills
Navigation system; 'Bare left after 300 yards'
Dad; Oh my God take cover, there's a massive grizzly bear on the left!'
We were in Central London.
She also had a bear. I often saw her little lamb, but i never saw her bare.
I'm proud of this one...
My family was visiting friends for a night of Monopoly. We ended a game and were setting up for another when I got up to get a beer for myself and my buddy. We prefer Dos, which doesn't twist off, so I had to use a bottle opener. Enter my 9 year old . . .
"Dad, why don't you use your bare hands to open that bottle?"
He looked up at me with eyes that sought answers and basic truths, not knowing what was about to hit him. I almost felt bad, while trying to hold back a smile, knowing what I was about to say.
"Because I don't have bear hands", followed by the most dad-like laughter possible.
Friend: Picks up bread, retches in disgust and throws in trash Me: What just happened Friend: There was bare mold on that bread Me: That's why you don't let bears near your bread
He asked if he could get them and said "I've always wanted bear feet." "Fine," I said, "take off you shoes." He did, smiling. Next, I told him "take off your socks." He excitedly eyed the slippers as he pulled off his socks. When he finished, I said "there, now you have bare feet." My wife just sighed and shook her head.
Mom: do you see any bare spots on the tree?
Dad: I don't even see any bears.
I was raised by my grandpa and when we'd go fishing there's this sign that says "bear creek cemetery"
Me:bear creek huh, do you think the ever see any bears down there?
Pop: maybe a bare ass
Pop: I wonder if that's a cemetery for all them bears they have down there?
Me: maybe it's a cemetery for the creeks to
Pop: I'm sure they had a proper bear-ial
Me: "I built that table with my bare hands."
Her: "Bear hands? They look pretty human to me!"
[Spoilers]
King Fergus (Merida's father) punches Mor'Du (a bear) in the face;
King Fergus: I'll fight you with my bare hands!
http://m.imdb.com/title/tt1217209/quotes?qt=qt1754778
Son: Dad how did I get my name? Chief: Well, we name everyone by things we see when they're born, when your sister came into the world we were by a brook so we named her Running Brook, when your brother was born we saw a bear so we named him Running Bear Son: Oh, I get it, Two Dogs Fucking!
He could barely get it out and tells me it weekly, still cackling the whole way through
Let me tell you a story about the first dad joke I ever told.
I was 4 years old and running around outside without shoes on. When my mom noticed she said, "Starkid08 you get in here with your bare feet!"
Without missing a step I look down at my feet and say," These aren't my BEAR feet, these are my PEOPLE feet!"
We still recall this story from time to time when talking to my many aunts.
