I guess it was my.. Desk to knee.
So, she walks over and takes a seat next to him on the bench, turns to him and says, "Sorry to bother you. I know this may be a little forward but I would love to grab coffee with you some time."
Flattered, the man responds, "Sure... but what makes you so certain you and I would get along so well?"
"Well..." the woman says. "A couple things, actually. I noticed you were wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Iron Maiden are my favorite band of all time. When they went on their reunion tour in 1999, my parents took me to see them in Cleveland. I was 12 years old and it was the first concert I ever went to. I absolutely love Iron Maiden."
The man can't believe it.
"I saw them play Cleveland in '99! First concert I ever went to on my own. My best friend Jimmy Spitz and I told our parents we were sleeping at each others' houses, snuck out, took a bus into the city and saw them play at the Plain Dealer Pavillion!"
Naturally, they're both shocked.
"If that isn't weird enough..." says the woman. "I noticed you're reading Mark Twain. I was a communications major in university and I actually wrote my thesis on Mark Twain and how he used satire as a lens to comment on current events of the time, comparing him to satirical news sources of today. He's my favorite author."
Now the man is really taken aback, "Get out of here! I was an English major in university! I specialized in 19th century American literature and this is like my fourth or fifth time reading Tom Sawyer, I absolutely love Mark Twain."
They both can't believe it...this has got to be a match made in heaven.
"Ok..." the woman says. "Well, buckle up because here's the icing on the cake. I noticed you're eating a prune. Prunes are my absolute favorite fruit. When I was a kid, my grandfather lived on a farm. He had an orchard that mainly grew apples and some lemons, but he knew how much my sister and I loved prunes so he kept a couple of plum trees. Every year at the end of the summer, we'd go up and harvest the plums with him. He'd dry them and by the time we'd go back to his place for Thanksgiving he'd always have those prunes saved just for us. They're my favorite fruit! I love prunes, you're eating a prune, this has got to be fate. What do you say?"
The man puts down his fruit and responds,
"It's a date!"
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 ➡Needless to say I was starving, as fate would have it a ripe piece fell down right at my feet. Startled I called out “well I guess it’s on the house!” To my amazement the stalk came to life and said “Nonsense! It’s on the cob!”
So, I'm a new-ish dad, and I now consider myself an apprentice in the art of dad jokes. How's this one?
I'm helping out my kid with his math. All looks good, except there's a weird loop at the top of one of his '1's.
Son: "Is that right?"
Me: "What's that thing there, with the loop?"
Son: "That's a 1. Is it right?"
Me: "Right? Even Better. I'd say you got a HOLE IN 1."
Son: ".... daaaad... ugh.."
At long last, I'm not at the receiving end of these ;)
[from NPR-- this sub doesn't allow link posts]
The annual turkey pardon is a silly tradition, and President Obama knows it. On Wednesday, before pardoning turkeys named Tater and Tot, Obama summed up his feelings about this particular duty.
"It is my great privilege — well, it's my privilege — actually, let's just say it's my job to grant them clemency this afternoon," Obama said.
Not in attendance for the president's final turkey pardoning ceremony were first daughters Sasha and Malia Obama, who gamely laughed alongside their father last year. So instead, the president's nephews Austin and Aaron Robinson stood by for what Obama called his "corny-copia of dad jokes about turkeys."
And thus began a pun-fest for the ages. Here's a list of President Obama's groaners from this year's pardoning ceremony:
"Actually [Sasha and Malia] just couldn't take my jokes anymore. They were fed up."
"What I haven't told them yet is we are going to do this every year from now on. No cameras, just us, every year. No way I'm cutting this habit cold turkey."
"Tater is here in a backup role just in case Tot can't fulfill his duties. So he's sort of like the vice turkey. We're working on getting him a pair of aviator glasses."
"I want to take a moment to recognize the brave turkeys who weren't so lucky. Who didn't get to ride the gravy train to freedom. Who met their fate with courage and sacrifice and proved that they weren't chicken."
[After touting positive economic indicators and the low uninsured rate] "That's worth gobbling about."
"We should also make sure everyone has something to eat on Thanksgiving. Of course, except the turkeys, because they're already stuffed."
"When somebody at your table tells you that you've been hogging all of the side dishes, you can't have any more, I hope that you respond with a creed that sums up the spirit of a hungry people: 'Yes, we cran.' "
"Look, I know there are some bad ones in here, but this is the last time I'm doing this, so we're not leaving any room for leftovers."
"And now from the Rose Garden, Tater and Tot will go to their new home at Virginia Tech, which is admittedly a bit hokey." (The Hokies are the Virginia Tech mascot.)
"And so let's get on with the pardoning. Because it's Wednesday afternoon and everyone knows that Thanksgiving traffic can put people in a foul mood."
[from NPR -- http://www.npr.org/2016/11/23/503178220/president-obamas-2016-turkey-pardon-dad-jokes-the-definitive-list?utm_source=facebook.com
... keep reading on reddit ➡The Senate will decide your fate.
Now my life has no porpoise.
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
Her: when is my appointment tomorrow
Me: the realisation dawns on me and I start laughing hysterically
Her: what?
Me: drying my eyes 2:30
her: groans did you do that on purpose?
I did not, the fates gave me that one for free.
Edit: Tooth hurty. Apparently that wasn't clear
A quaint little men's class,
a few with class,
some smelling of a gin glass,
some with eyes of a lass,
the remainder eyeing a lad,
but all glad,
and all present,
youngster of the present,
bearders of the crescent,
readers new testaments,
preachers of old testaments,
bearers of saffron tenets,
wearers of white tints,
weird lovers of croissant,
well, all here, will all hear?
we never know,
lets look at the show
The English teacher, said,
"how to drink a juice?"
i know, said bart the bartender,
"with vodka and chicken tender"
the weirded beardo now angry,
showed he was a shouter,
wanted to be a bart-ender,
while shushing the crowd,
use a pipe, piped up a voice, loud,
"huh" exclaimed preacher pastor,
"no smoking" he said, showing a guilty fluster ,
"no sir" said the voice,
I'm extra maker,
spoke the voice quicker,
Mr.White scratching head,
"I'm an ex-straw maker",
the air cleared.
Proceeding further, Teacher continued,
the class was listening, eyes glued,
"etiquette is important" he said,
"wear napkin before eating",
their faces changed,
pulse now beating,
Mr.White said, "sir, we don't bleed",
an irritated saffron Sundar spoke,
"if you bleed, education you don't need"
the English sir, now a sundered bloke,
calmed the masked fish market,
as his God's fate chisel hammered,
"Do you know how to fork?" he stammered,
a brief silence, and too many whispers later
"I Pen is use sir", said a bright face,
"Do you know how to use a fork?" he corrected,
with damage now done, Silence resumed.
>ThePundits
This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.
One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.
One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.
One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”
About 8/10 when my dad was checking out at the grocery store or best buy or somthing with a rewards card he would do the same dad joke (which I now find hilarious). If the cashier was a woman, this would go down:
>Cashier: Your total is $x.xx. Do you have a rewards card with us?
>Dad: uhh...I don't think so...
>Cashier: Well what's your phone number?
>Dad: Sorry I don't just give my number out I'm married.
idk if this counts but it was one of my dad's go-to's and the amount of times he did it combined w/ the eye roll punchline made it one to me.
Teenage me cringed, probably gonna do it myself at some point now. I accept my dad joke fate.
So my dad has this little mole thing right under his lip where he usually grows his soul patch. Today he went to the dermatologist to get it biopsied. I met up with him afterwards and we were discussing the fate of his mole and what might happen if he cuts it off. Me: "what if it leaves a scar?" Dad: "it's okay I'll just grow my soul patch again and cover it" Me: "but what if the hair doesn't grow back? What if it leaves a hole?" Dad: "then it'll be a hole patch" Me: groans for all of eternity
[from NPR-- this sub doesn't allow link posts]
The annual turkey pardon is a silly tradition, and President Obama knows it. On Wednesday, before pardoning turkeys named Tater and Tot, Obama summed up his feelings about this particular duty.
"It is my great privilege — well, it's my privilege — actually, let's just say it's my job to grant them clemency this afternoon," Obama said.
Not in attendance for the president's final turkey pardoning ceremony were first daughters Sasha and Malia Obama, who gamely laughed alongside their father last year. So instead, the president's nephews Austin and Aaron Robinson stood by for what Obama called his "corny-copia of dad jokes about turkeys."
And thus began a pun-fest for the ages. Here's a list of President Obama's groaners from this year's pardoning ceremony:
"Actually [Sasha and Malia] just couldn't take my jokes anymore. They were fed up."
"What I haven't told them yet is we are going to do this every year from now on. No cameras, just us, every year. No way I'm cutting this habit cold turkey."
"Tater is here in a backup role just in case Tot can't fulfill his duties. So he's sort of like the vice turkey. We're working on getting him a pair of aviator glasses."
"I want to take a moment to recognize the brave turkeys who weren't so lucky. Who didn't get to ride the gravy train to freedom. Who met their fate with courage and sacrifice and proved that they weren't chicken."
[After touting positive economic indicators and the low uninsured rate] "That's worth gobbling about."
"We should also make sure everyone has something to eat on Thanksgiving. Of course, except the turkeys, because they're already stuffed."
"When somebody at your table tells you that you've been hogging all of the side dishes, you can't have any more, I hope that you respond with a creed that sums up the spirit of a hungry people: 'Yes, we cran.' "
"Look, I know there are some bad ones in here, but this is the last time I'm doing this, so we're not leaving any room for leftovers."
"And now from the Rose Garden, Tater and Tot will go to their new home at Virginia Tech, which is admittedly a bit hokey." (The Hokies are the Virginia Tech mascot.)
"And so let's get on with the pardoning. Because it's Wednesday afternoon and everyone knows that Thanksgiving traffic can put people in a foul mood."
