A list of puns related to "Eye Tracking"
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 ➡A couple of years ago, one night, I was about to propose to my girlfriend when my roommate Joseph barged into the porch out of nowhere, tripped and fell over, breaking a glass table with his face. Totally ruined the mood. Now, I didn't know Joseph THAT well, don't even remember where he was from, but let' just say I put my plans on hold to help him through his injuries.
Joseph had gotten big glass shard in his eye, making him completely blind in that eye. He was walking around with one of those cotton pads on his eye for a couple of months. Then suddenly, he disappeared, along with my girlfriend
Apparently they'd bonded during the time after his injuries, and eloped together , left me behind without as much as a note. I tried to track them down, but never could.
In conclusion, if it hadn't been for cotton eye Joe, I'd have been married a long time ago. Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you come from, cotton eye Joe?
The B-road starts bragging extensively about his status as a B-road. The bar staff and patrons aren't impressed.
Then, an A-road struts in. The A-road immediately starts criticising the B-road, whilst also bragging about his own status. The two get into a big argument, and the patrons are starting to get riled up.
Then, a motorway barges his way into the bar, and starts boasting that he is better than the A-road and B-road combined. The argument escalates, and some customers grab their belongings, preparing to leave.
And then, a solid white line walks into the bar.
The whole bar falls silent. The argument stops dead in its tracks, and the three roads immediately disperse, avoiding eye contact with the new customer.
The solid white line goes up to the bar, orders a drink, and consumes it slowly. The bar is still silent. As soon as he is finished, the solid white line turns and leaves the bar without a word. The three roads breathe a sigh of relief.
The barman is astounded. "What the hell was that about?!" he exclaims.
"We don't mess with him" mutters the motorway.
"Why not?"
"He's a cycle path".
He was operating a late night train and fell asleep at the controls. He ended up failing to recognise a stop sign and as a result his train hit a person and killed them immediately. He was tried for manslaughter and sentenced to the electric chair. Just before being put in the chair, he was given the choice of final meal and chose a single banana, oddly. His time came and he was placed into the chair, the room vacated and then the switch was thrown.
But... Nothing. No sparks, no burning, nothing. They checked the machine and it was working fine, it just seemed not to harm him. The state law meant that, legally, his sentence had been carried out and he was free to go. He walked away a free man, and actually got another job as a train driver.
Sadly, almost exactly the same thing happened again. This time his negligence killed two kids playing around on the tracks when again he'd fallen asleep and failed to stop the train in time. Hauled before the courts again, he got exactly the same sentence - the electric chair. He was asked again for his final meal, chose two bananas this time, and his sentence was carried out again.
And yet again, he didn't die. In fact, he was entirely unharmed. The state law remained the same, so he was let out again, where - somehow - he got another job with another train company. I guess it was the only job he was trained for (pardon the pun). Anyway, this time he did much better and worked hard to stay awake during his late shifts. But sure enough, eventually he slipped back in to old habits and this time killed five people - a family trying to free their dog stuck in the tracks.
Once again he faced a jury, once again they found him guilty and a judge sentenced him to the electric chair. This time he asked for 5 bananas, but the guard was wiley - he has read about this man and how he always had bananas before his sentence was carried out, and so this time (with a grin, it's said) he brought the train driver 5 apples instead. The guilty man plead and begged for bananas, but the guard claimed it was an honest mistake but too late to change now.
The man was lead for a third time to the electric chair. His head was wetted, his arms strapped in, and the guard eyed him with something between wonder and fear. Finally the room was vacated and the switch thrown. Surely this time the machine would do its job? With the process finished, the guard ran back into the room, only to find the man still alive and looking entirely healthy. "I do
... keep reading on reddit ➡The insect police force was tracking one of these malaria-mosquitos, when the mosquito fled to a farm. First, she tried to hide in the house, until the farmer chased her away with a newspaper. She tried to hide in the barn with the horses, but the barn cat took a few swipes at the mosquito, and chased it from the barn.
Finally, the mosquito set eyes on sheep in the pasture.she decided all that thick wool would be the perfect place to hide from the insect police force.
The police force arrived shortly after. They first went to the house. No mosquito. They searched the horses. No mosquito. Finally, they got to the pasture with the sheep. After searching and searching, they could not find where the mosquito had hidden.
The mosquito was on the lamb.
EDIT: I am now closing applications and will make a decision in the next day or so. Thank you to everybody who applied - the general enthusiasm and support is wonderful to see.
( as this is a self post, I receive no karma - however I would appreciate it if you upvoted purely for visibility <3 )
Hey everybody,
The /r/dadjokes community is now over 85,000 subscribers strong. That's pretty great. Pretty super great.
Thus far, over the entire existence of this sub, I have been the only mod. Quietly watching, taking your feedback, removing a post here, approving another there - doing my best not to interfere too much. I'm going to be honest, it hasn't been that hard.
You lot are generally a pretty nice bunch, give or take a few of the more vocal lunatics. There isn't usually a lot of work to be done, or issues that need resolving.
That said, I'm not awake all the time. I can't lurk on Reddit all the time. I don't have all-seeing eyes.
So it's about time I gave another pair of eyes moderator status and entrusted those eyes with a duty of care.
Let's get down to the chase; here's what I'm looking for in an additional mod:
Here's what I am not looking for:
If you wish to apply for the title and duty of being a moderator to /r/dadjokes, simply state your case (why you should be selected, what benefits or experience you bring, etc) in a comment reply to this thread. I will then get in touch with the most worthy seeming applicants. Upvotes and downvites will not be taken int
... keep reading on reddit ➡Riding home with my girlfriend (now wife because of this) and we crossed over some railroad tracks. I let out a loud, "hmmmm."
She said, "What?"
Me, "A train must have just come through here."
She, "How do you know that?"
Me, "Because it left its tracks."
Me laughing hysterically, I could actually hear her eyes roll.
One of my favorites and eight years later, we're still together. The ladies love dad jokes.
She was talking about her new job at a restaurant and mentioned how she didn't think this girl she was in training with was going to make it through. She said "you can see all of her drug use marks."
I followed up with "that's a-track-tive." Groans and eye rolls followed.
Yesterday was Opening Day (baseball) at Target Field (Minnesota). The first 10,000 or so fans received a free blue zip-up hoodie with "Twins" emblazoned on the front. It's a damn fine hoodie.
It's also packed on the stadium concourse. 40,123 attendees that day. As my husband and I are making our way through a dense crowd along the right field concourse, an older gentleman stops me in my tracks with this big grin and says, "Wow, that's a great sweatshirt! Where'd you get it?"
He was holding one in his hand.
His other hand was holding that of his wife, who was rolling her eyes pretty hard. I imagine that was neither the first nor last time he'd made that joke yesterday.
For some background, he is a fire chief and has his share of gruesome stories.
Him, "Did you hear about the kid who got hit by the train?" (Some tracks run by our neighborhood.)
Me, "No, that's awful. When did that happen?"
Him, "Earlier this week. It happens all the time. Their eyes are always blue..."
Me, "Why are their eyes blue?"
His teenage daughter, rolling her eyes, "One blew this way, one blew the other way."
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