Catch Points Puns

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

I was on a road trip with him and we were leaving Rapid City, SD, when we saw a billboard that said "Cowboy Pancakes: 99¢"

He turns to me and says, "Cowboy Pancakes? They must serve those with maple stirrup"

He proceeded to laugh really hard and beat his steering wheel.

Helped my son move and left the U-Haul back door open when empty; didn’t want to tempt anyone from thinking something was in it. He said what if they steal the light?

More power to them I said.

I didn’t even catch my own joke. He had to point it out. He’s got a great future ahead of him.

After a long and arduous hike, Attle is tired. "How much longer dad? Are you sure its is this way?"

"Son, trust me! Now stay close to me ok!"

Finally, Battle reaches a good viewpoint, and spots an island in the distance.

He excitedly yells: "Attle! Come on, hurry up, I think I found it".

Attle catches up to his dad. "Where is it?"

Battle points to the island, and says "Seattle"!

I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.

Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.

So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.

C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?

Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.

C: Do it

Fuck, he's one of these guys...

Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.

At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.

C: Do I have to use my real name?

PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY

Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.

C: Oh ok.

I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.

C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?

I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.

Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter

C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.

I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.

Oh that's an easy fix

Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.

C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"

Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.

I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.

**

Okay so I get off at 4:00 and I didn't waste any time leaving the office. Shut down my computer, grabbed my keys, and I was on the road by 4:05. It had been a pretty crazy day and I was ready to get home.

As I'm driving home I notice I'm running on Empty. I probably could have made it home but I was really craving a Coca Cola so I decide to stop at the nearest gas station.

Anyways I'm filling my tank I see an old lady a few gas pumps away putting gas in her old beat up station wagon but didn't really think anything of it and just continued to enjoy my icey cold Coca Cola.

Next thing I know I see this old lady holding the gas pump nozzle spewing gas everywhere. I guess she had taken the nozzle out of the vehicle w out disengaging the automatic trigger or whatever but it went EVERYWHERE. Her car, her arms, the ground, all over the place and by the time she got that thing to stop spraying there was at least a gallon of gas everywhere.

So I immediately run over to see if she's okay and she smells like straight up gas. I gave her napkins to dry off her hands and to clean what gas was spilled on the car. She said she was okay and thanked me for my help so I leave and head home.

So now I'm a few blocks from home, driving over the last hill right before my next turn and all of a sudden, almost out of nowhere, she comes flyin past me in that same old beat up station wagon with, I shit you not, her arm CAUGHT ON FIRE. And as if that's not bad enough there are two cops right behind her in hot pursuit. So while I'm freaking out trying to pull over to the side she zooms past so fast I barely catch a glimpse of her frantically flailing her arm out the window as they all go over the hill.

At that point couldn't believe what I was seeing it was just too crazy. So I quickly get back on the road and make my way over the hill and I spot her. She's pulled over in the emergency lane. I see the same old lady being handcuffed and put in the back of the squad car.

Yeah turns out she was arrested for waiving a fire arm in public.

¯_(ツ)_/¯

I'm a teacher and I love to dadjoke my students. You guys are really amazing.

So I'm teaching economics and we deal with a lot of tables and the like.

I show them the table, point at it and tell them to "draw this table" then I point at a chair and say "then draw this chair" (and they give me the look of pure success).

I got them many times. Today I was lucky to catch it on video. I posted it to Twitter if you'd like to see it (and hear the 5 on the sighsmograph)

https://twitter.com/JoAngryTeacher/status/847162266856439808?s=09

So mom and dad have my wife and my kid along with my sister's kid out whale watching and sent us a photo of orcas they saw. This followed...

Me: killer view!
Siss: killer view!
Me: are you thinking the same as me OR CAn you not think of anything unique and are copying me on porpoise
Me: I mean I’m having a whale of a time
Me: Did you FINish?
Me: Does your boat have a motor anD/OR SAIL?
Mom (probably dad's joke tho): You are on a roll
Me: Not sure I have many lines left actually
Me: Actually I’m beginning to waver on that statement
Me: Though it seems siss has bowed out of the conversation.
Me: Maybe she’ll come up with something after I’m done
Me: have you guys SEAn (sic) anything other than orcas?
Mom: Humpback
Me: good day for that!
Wife: Very cool!
Me: Definitely looks chilly
Wife: 20 texts... Wow
Me: Definitely an imPORTant thread to watch
Me: like how i cap-size my text to make the joke obvious?
Me: siss’ silence is fishy tho
Mom: You definitely LANDed them
Me: They just come to me and I let em sail
Me: To admit some are a bit ridockulous
Me: Which can make them tough to catch
Me: but I’ll keep tossing them out there anyway for the few that land
Me: I think we lost the point of the conversation though
Me: Let's coral it back
Me: I'm being far too shellfish by uslurping it like this
Me: But Siss did have the gull to keep repeating me
Me: Buoy that one was bad

edit: formatting

I only got to see my grandpa on my mom's side about once a year usually growing up, but there was always one common factor of each visit.

At some point during the catching up conversations, Pa (what we called him) would get a real dejected look on his face. Then he'd face my mom:

"Oh Vicky... guess who died?"-Pa

"Oh no... Who?"-Mom

"Elvis." -Pa

He'd then giggle, finger fun, and slap his thigh. Every. Single. Year.

I have a feeling he used that one for the better part of 40 years.

He told me he wanted a highlighted line, possibly dashed, as part of an animation (for teaching maths to kids). He has set a decidedly minimalistic but eye-catching style that I need to follow, so after a few tweaks, trying to get the right proportions and a nice look, I turned around to him and asked 'Is this along the right lines'?

It was only after I said it I realised the accidental genius of what I had just said, so I simply had to point it out.

He responded with '...I'll let you off this time.'

The bus ride to the station had been very stressful. I spent the entire time worrying if the bus even stopped at the train station. I ended up spending nearly an hour making two loops around the city before I finally realized that I had to hop off near the station. Public transport. Jesus.

I'd missed the train I wanted to catch due to my hour-long bus ride, so I had some time to kill before the next one arrived. It had been cold and raining when I left in the morning, but by lunch time it was warm and I was sweating, standing on the station in a big yellow hoodie and jeans.

I had overslept and skipped breakfast earlier, so I resolved not to let the loud farts coming from the old man next to me kill my appetite. I was desperate for a snack.

Initially the vending machine told me it would accept "EXACT CHANGE ONLY". Slightly annoying, but no real problem: I just fished out my change, inserted some alternative coins and punched in the number. I watched the object of my desire inch forwards, ready to drop into the bottom where I could collect it. For some reason I was terrified that it might get stuck. Robbed by a robot, how embarrassing. Luckily the packet fell into the tray. Finally something was going my way.

As I reached into the bottom of the machine and pushed open the metal door, it suddenly stuck. It was wedged in place and the gap was too small for my snack to fit through. "Motherfucker..." I whispered under my breath.

But I was too invested to give up now. Determined not to be beaten by a bloody machine, I pulled hard and the packet burst, spilling chips into the tray. I managed to salvage about half of the crisps and ate them greedily. Partially crushed, but still deliciously cheesy.

At this point it occurred to me that perhaps I should tell the station operator that the vending machine was broken. I walked up to the ticket office and saw a bored, tired looking man in his forties. "I just thought I'd let you know the vending machine is jammed," I announced.

The attendant got up, walked over over to the vending machine and gave it a solid kick, dislodging the little metal door which had foiled me. When he turned to me again his expression had changed from boredom to amusement. "So what flavour was it then? Strawberry?"

I groaned, but couldn't resist a smile.

I knew it was going to be a good day.