that way I always start the new year off on the right foot
See you next year (from California)!
Long time fan, first time poster.
It's about thyme.
what do you say to a potassium based fruit that keeps stealing stuff!? Stop with your banana-gins!
Background: My family was at the lake today. The lake was a little choppy today so when we went on the boat we hit one really big wave where the front end of the boat came crashing down hard. My nephew (7) just happened to be sitting on a cup holder and it hurt his butt when we landed.
We got back to the house and my nephew said...
Nephew: my butt hurts. I think its broken.
Me: did I ever tell you about the time I broke my butt?
Nephew: no. Is it still broken?
Me: yeah. There’s a big crack in it still.
He didn’t get it. But all the other adults laughed/rolled their eyes. Stupid joke I know, but I don’t care.
It's about time.
It's about Thyme.
My 2018 New Years resolution is to stop postponing things.
With years of waiting I finally said "Hay pregnant I'm dad" "No, no you are not" she responded
It’s my 2020 vision
It was about time.
It was like a Brother to me.
But today I've fallen off the wagon.
It was about thyme.
It’s my 2020 goal.
I was like "ok boomerang"
It was no small feat!
But I was able to e-merge.
He scored a home run every single at bat, and always the exact same way. Way over right field, too high for anyone to reach, and it always landed in exactly the 17th row of the stands, give or take a couple feet.
He earned the nickname “the machine” for how consistently he hit the exact same spot every time. Right field, 17th row, every single time. He did this for 20 years before he retired. Tickets to the 2-3 seats that the ball always landed on sold for over $2k a pop by the time he retired because you were guaranteed at least a couple home run balls.
And the day he retired a reporter asked him “How does it feel to be retiring as the greatest hitter of all time?”
Hugh just looked at the reporter puzzled. “What do you mean?” He said.
The reporter clarified “literally over 5,000 times you went to the plate and hit a home run to right field, 17th row of the stands!”
Hugh looked dejected and disappointed “yeah, my greatest failure...”
“What do you mean?” Said the reporter incredulously.
Hugh let’s out a long sigh, and looked down at the ground quietly for a moment before finally speaking.
“I’ve been aiming left this whole time”
A number of years ago I was in a rock band. We were hugely successful, playing some of the biggest venues and entertaining swarms of fans.
The last shoes we ever played were on our world tour. We played the Americas and then flew over to Europe. We played our way through Russia and even a couple of gigs in China, before selling out our final show in Japan.
It was a hell of a Journey, but it was time for me to hang up my guitar. I retired from the rock star life and got an office job in Tokyo.
I made a few friends at work, and grew close with one in particular, Narada-san. One day Narada had the day off for a funeral, but that wasn't enough; he needed more time. He was torn between his obligation to return to work and his desire to have more time at home. He asked me what he should do.
The answer was simple. I picked up my guitar and played a Japanese version of our biggest hit from 1981:
Don't Stop Bereaving
Something
It produces a greenish flame and it looks really cool while I'm lighting up my cigarette.
I can’t wait to see in 2020!
But then, this morning, I walked into the laundry room again and saw the Tides had turned.
I'm beside myself!
WORKING ON A JOB
My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned I just couldn’t concentrate. . Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the axe. . After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn’t suited for it. The job was only so-so anyhow. . Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was exhausting. . I wanted to be a barber, but I just couldn’t cut it. . I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard. . My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found I wasn’t note worthy. . I studied a long time to become a doctor, but I didn’t have any patience. . Next was a job in a shoe factory; but it just wasn’t the right fit. . I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn’t live on my net income. . I thought about becoming a witch, so I tried that for a spell. . I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining. . After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian, until I realized there was no future in it. . My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit, because it was always the same old grind.
THIS!
There are more ducks on that side.
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 feel like a weight has been lifted.
Towels.
So I tend to tell bad dad jokes as a nerd and father they fit well and my wife has grown tired but today she got me.
My eldest is away on a trip and the dishwasher is normally his chore, backstory over..
My wife is sorting the dishwasher and on completion states that we will have to unload the dishwasher in the morning or this evening and then we can put a cleaner in it..... she may protest but I’m sure we can make her fit... she then continued to laugh at her own dad joke for some time..
Achievement unlocked..
My kid sister came into the dining room, asked if I wanted to do yoga. "Namaste here."
I'm not sure if it works or not.
He calls it The Tooth, the Whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth.
So help me Gauze.
It's about time.
...he did his thyme after all.
We met up at a restaurant, and I ordered some kind of fancy taco. Halfway through the meal, he looks over at the dribbling mess my taco had become and says, "Looks like your taco has a leak."
I carefully set the taco down, opened it up, peered at it for a moment, and replied, "Nope, I think that's an onion."
Apparently, it's a series of bark codes.
It was like a Brother to me.
