I think therefore I Yam.
They are calling them meta-taters.
A chive mind.
The doctor called in the woman’s brother from the waiting room and asked if he would like to name the children. The brother agrees.
When the mother wakes up, the doctor informs her that her brother has named the children while she was unconscious. She said “Oh no... my brother is an idiot. What did he name the kids?” The doctors replied “Well, the girl’s name is Denise!” “Oh, that’s not so bad! And the boy?” “Denephew”
It is basically all about raisin awareness.
Faint
I’m a human bean
It becomes a wear.
Maybe it's just eggsausted.
They realised there was one Roulé for the rich and another Roulé for the rest of society.
In awarehouse
There was so much history between us.
A subluminal subliminal.
Manager: what did the doctor say to the woman’s family? Me: after thinking ...yea I’m not sure Manager: “she was ALL RIGHT.” Me: oh, I thought you were going to say “There’s nothing LEFT.” The manager at work got a kick out of that because that was an answer he has never gotten before lol figured I’d post it here.
I said 4 liters, 9 if you include the glass.
She said: "What!?"
Me: Yea.
Liter C.
Liter O.
Liter K.
Liter E.
Because they always have scales.
whole brain bread
Unfortunately it wooden work.
Because it didn't have any curves.
Because it was floored.
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 ➡I poked my head in his room, and he was blathering about how he wanted to quit school and be a truck driver.
"I'm gonna get one of those big beautiful Peterbuilts, with all the running lights everywhere. Or maybe a Mack with an extended cab..."
"Better brew him a pot of coffee," I told his mother. "The final is in a half hour, and he's only semi-conscious."
It was time for the prom at Klondike High School and Tim's friends were desperately trying to convince him to go. He considered it, but was very self-conscious of the fact that he had had an accident as a young child that caused him to lose his eye, and the best his family could afford was to buy him a wooden eye. After several days of goading, Tim finally decides to go.
Sally was in a similar situation. Her friends desperately wanted her to go prom with them, but she was recently in a car accident and lost her right leg. She had a prosthetic, but it was very uncomfortable, so she had a hard time walking. Reluctantly, she agreed to go.
It was the night of the prom and both Tim and Sally were getting all gussied up with their friends. They both make it to the prom, but when they arrive, they are both too nervous to dance. Tim's friends notice Sally sitting on the wall and say to him, "Look over there! There's a cute girl who's all alone and needs a partner to dance with. Why don't you go over there and ask her to dance?" After some further convincing, Tim sheepishly begins to walk over to Sally to ask her. As he approaches her, he getes nervous, and awkwardly stands in front of her for a few seconds before saying, "Wuh...wuh...would you like to dance with me?"
Excitedly, Sally exclaims, "Would I? Would I?"
Tim responds angrily, "PEG LEG! PEG LEG!"
...all the pages fell out...
Back in the before times, when sit-down restaurants existed, I used to order boneless cheese sticks and would just throw the word "boneless" in front of any appetizer with 100% corniness. The purpose of this isn't to make a good joke. It's not a good joke. The purpose is to make my dining companions catch some cringe splash damage and want to crawl into a hole and die out of embarrassment for my being horribly corny.
But there is a real, deeper purpose that I've discovered entirely by accident. People, especially young people, are so self-conscious and worried about saying or doing something embarrassing that it taints a lot of social gatherings. They go to a restaurant and are afraid to speak up even when their order is blatantly wrong. They'll tip well even when the food took an hour to arrive and the server has disappeared into the corn stalks behind a baseball field. It takes 2 hours of hanging out together before some friends finally stop nitpicking themselves, uncomfortable in their own bodies and brains, feeling perpetually judged, and begin to relax. These are the kinds of people who go to sleep every night replaying cringey moments from high school. Their last thought of the day is when the Burger King girl said, "Enjoy your meal!" and they said, "Thanks, you too."
It takes 2 hours and/or a lot of booze before they're comfortable enough to take conversational risks and truly reveal themselves. But if I come right out of the gate with a really dumb joke, then we can cut to the chase. There's less danger because someone in the group already shot themselves in the foot, right off the bat. They pulled a pin on the cringe grenade and then jumped on it.
You cringe at my dumb joke and then we're over the hump. Someone has already done something pretty stupid, so go ahead and order the hubcap of nachos and a massive chocolate shake because nobody is going to judge you poorly while they're all judging me.
In terms of price negotiations (haggling), there is a psychological concept called "anchoring". You throw out the first number and all subsequent numbers are compared to that number. This is the same idea. We've already set the humor standard pretty low at "boneless cheese sticks", so you can say the dumbest shit you want and, as long as it's not worse than my cheesy joke, it won't matter.
This is why, when you were a teenager and your dad took you and some friends out, your dad made corny jokes. He knew they were corny jokes. You and your friends un
... keep reading on reddit ➡He never worked without a net.
Scientists hypothesize this is because they're always surrounded by scales.
Dad responds "Hispanic!"
There was a man, who in high-school, had a wooden eye. He was quite self conscious about it, so when it came time for the school dance, he didn't have the nerve to ask a girl to dance. He would go up to a girl and she would turn away instantly. He was very discouraged, until he saw across the room a girl, alone with a peg leg. He thought "perfect! she might want to dance with me!" and walked over. When he asked her to dance, she looked up grinning and said "Would i? Would I?!" offended, he looked back and said. "Peg leg! peg leg!"
Recently a moth flew into our sliding glass door and fell to the ground. It must have been stunned and barely conscious. Luckily, I was able to revive it using mouth to moth resuscitation!
I found it hard to achieve class consciousness.
All four walls of the room are made of hollow cinder block, but three of the four walls are reinforced with rebar and cement filling rendering them unbreakable.
Utterly confused, the rhinoceros studies the room for a moment and then tries ramming into the first wall to get itself free, but is stunned to find that it won't budge because it is reinforced and completely solid.
The rhinoceros shakes it off and tries ramming the second wall to knock it down, but only managed to break off a few small crumbs because it, too, is reinforced.
In a total daze, the rhinoceros tries ramming the third wall, but then falls over unconscious from trying to ram yet another reinforced wall.
After a few minutes, the rhinoceros regains consciousness and slowly pulls to its feet. Both exhausted and completely unable to withstand ramming another reinforced wall, the poor rhinoceros sinks its head in failure and has all but given up hope.
...but then, with a sudden stroke of genius, the rhinoceros stands on it's hind legs, clears its throat, and asks you, the reader,
"Should I try breaking the fourth wall?"
..because I'm too shelf-conscious.
Me: I'd like to check these [books] out.
Librarian: Sorry, that's actually against the rules.
Me: Huh?
Librarian: You see, checking them out only makes them shelf conscious.
Because it was really self conscious
Because he was self conscious and just wanted to feel a little lighter.
I was feeling a little shelf-conscious.
There was too much history between us.
Because it had too many scales
Because it had too many scales
I was too self conscious to say hello.
I mean there was all this history between us!
