"you're overdrawn"
I call it a Tramp o' Lean
That’s inflation for you!
This doesn’t happen with pigeons, though. This is because a coo sticks
The sound from a pigeon does not, because a coo sticks.
Because of the inflation
Before anyone else says anything, it said,
"You better serve me here, or I'm taking you to court!"
This is because of a-coo-sticks.
His name is Rick O’Shea.
When she finds out, my wife is going to hit the roof.
Boeing, Boeing, Boeing
When we were Christmas shopping for our kids, we went to target. After walking around for a while I got bored and eventually found a bouncy ball. It was a small inflatable basketball about tennis ball sized and being inflated instead of solid rubber, it made a louder noise when it hit the ground.
We were walking around and I was bouncing the ball. My wife got visibly irritated at the constant noise following her around and told me to please put it down. I bounced it again and said "I'm trying, but every time I do, it comes back up into my hand"
Que the groan.
His name is Rick o'shay
Because it was filled with spring water.
What do you call an Irishman bouncing off the walls?
Rick O Shea
I swear this is a true organic dad joke I had tonight. Felt I’d share it with reddit.
My kid came up to me and says “oh no, look dad, it needs a bandaid” as she gently presents her imaginarily injured bouncy ball.
I looked at my kid and said “I don’t think it needs a bandaid, he looks like he’s going to bounce back”
A receding hare line
a BOING 747
Rick O'Shea
It went over his head.
Rick O Shea
credit: /u/Mustardbyname at /r/Jokes/comments/d2ngk7/its_my_cake_day_today_so_ill_give_you_one_of_my/
Bump…
Bump…
Bump…
Walking faster, he looks back and through the fog he makes out the image of an upright casket banging its way down the middle of the street toward him.
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
Terrified, the man begins to run toward his home. The casket still bouncing quickly behind him.
Faster…
Faster…
FASTER…
Bump…
Bump…
BUMP…
He runs up to his door, fumbles with the keys, opens the door, rushes in and slams and locks the door behind him.
Rushing up the stairs to his bathroom, the man locks himself in. His heart is pounding. His head is reeling. His breath is coming in sobbing gasps.
With a loud CRASH the casket breaks down the door. Bumping and clapping towards him.
The man screams and reaches for something, anything, but all he can find is cough syrup!
Desperate, he throws the cough syrup as the casket!
And…
The coffin stops….
Recovering and bruised, he slowly climbs the tree again, jumps and falls to the ground.
The turtle tries again and again, while a couple of birds sitting on a branch watch his pathetic efforts.
Finally, the female bird turns to her mate, “Darling, don't you think it’s time to tell him he’s adopted?"
A lot of bouncing back and forth.
Me: "Why?"
Bouncer: "I have no idea who you are and this is my trampoline."
Turns out they were an elastic band.
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 ➡Rick O'Shea
A boing.
"Okay, bye. I'm gonna bounce now."
Boeing, Boeing, Boeing
Boeing, Boeing, Boeing.
The reason is a coo sticks.
Boeing Boeing Boeing!
“Boeing, Boeing, Boeing”
Boeing!
Rick O'Shea (Not my joke, saw it on Twitter)
Rick O'Shay.
Boeing!
Rick O Shea
Boeing Boeing Boeing.
