Duvet Puns

We’re a cover band.

I told her she should be careful making blanket statements like that.

It's a cover version.

They only play covers.

This year I'm releasing a Christmas record called Duvet Know it's Christmas?

It's a cover.

So he was born with down syndrome.

It's one of my favourite covers.

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

But I will recover.

Yesterday, we went mattress shopping and ended up buying the second or third bed we laid on. In the car on the way back, I told her "That could have been a hasty decision, we should have slept on it first."

So, short version of a long story... We lost our home in the Paradise, CA Camp Fire Nov 8, 2018. My wife was on the phone with our daughter who is in college, discussing new bedding for the new house.

They had been at it for quite a while, when I said, "Duvet have anything you like? It would be a sham if they didn't..."

Silence on the phone, then, "dad, just stop."

"Ok," I said, "Just get everything down that you like."

Sigh....

One of my better moments as a dad!

I recently purchased a new bed and had the joy of trying to find all the necessary accessories for a California King bed. After spending a full Sunday with my girlfriend bouncing around different home stores, we finally have all the sheets, duvet covers and bed skirts we need. We've assembled our new frame and I start putting the bedding on our mattress. I'm struggling with getting everything put on and call out, "uh oh, I think we got some phony pillow cases."

Fear and anxiety paint her face as she rushes over and asks "what's wrong?!"

I quip back at her, "yeah, this thing is a sham!"

I was talking to a friend on Skype; at one point, I realised that I had to go to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back, I have to pee," I said.

"All right sure," she replied.

When I left, I put my laptop on the floor, the screen facing upwards, so as to avoid the ventilator being drowned by my duvet.

When I returned, I realised the webcam was pointing toward the ceiling, and I asked her:

"Did you find my ceiling interesting?"'

"Nah, I was looking at something else,"

And then, I saw my chance. It was glorious. Like golden wings borne on scarlet sunlight had brought me to Enlightenment, and I instantly replied with what is perhaps my greatest feat of pun yet:

"You know, that really hurts my ceilings."

Source - Pic Abridged version:

A man who dubbed himself Britain's biggest idiot after losing his wife after tattooing a comedy penis on his own leg is hoping to win back her heart by having it lasered off.

Hapless Stuart, 34, of Southsea, Hants, inked the six-and-a-half inch member on his left thigh, so the end pokes out of his boxer shorts.

"After I did it, my wife woke up in the morning screaming, because there was this massive penis poking out of the duvet. And the tattoo on my leg.

"It caused no end of rows, and she's now kicked me out of home. I deserve it, I suppose."

My buddy and I brought in pizza from Godfather's Pizza this past weekend. We walked into his cluttered studio apartment with the pizza and some beers and I looked around for a place to put the pie.

His kitchen table had no room; neither did his coffee table. When I asked him where I should put it he told me just to set it down on top of his bed while we made space.

"Are you sure you want me to put it there?" I asked.

"Yeah, what's the big deal?"

"You want me to put the pizza on this - the duvet of my daughter's bedding?"

I could hear Brando groaning from beyond the grave.

I told her she should be careful making blanket statements like that.

I told her to quit making blanket statements like that.

It's a cover band.

It’s a cover band

They only play covers.

We’re a cover band.