A list of puns related to "Fire Containment"
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 ➡Why did the scarecrow win a prize? Because he stood alone in his field! He stood there for years, rotting, until he was forgotten.
I tell my kids, you’re allowed to watch the TV all you want… Just don’t turn it on! This way they will begin to understand the futility of all things.
How does a penguin build a house? Igloos it together. Like all animals, it is an automaton, driven by blind genetic imperative, marching slowly to oblivion.
Why don’t skeletons go trick or treating? They have no body to go with them! The skeletons are like us: alone, empty, dead already.
I don’t really like playing soccer. I just do it for kicks! Like all of humanity, I pretend to enjoy things, and others pretend to care about my charade.
You hear about the moon restaurant? Good food, no atmosphere! If you eat there, you forfeit your life, which would make no difference to the universe as a whole.
Why did the blonde focus on an orange juice container? It said concentrate! She realized that society’s depictions of her were like the juice: formulaic, insipid, fake.
My wife told me to put the cat out. I didn’t know it was on fire! By the time I could act, it was incinerated, a harbinger of the path we all must take.
How come the invisible man wasn’t offered a job? They just couldn’t see him doing it! This man stands for all of us: unseen, misunderstood, irrelevant.
Today I gave away my old batteries… Free of charge! No one wanted them, so I became angry and threw them in the yard. The battery acid now leaks into the soil, killing a colony of ants. A sparrow eats their bodies and is poisoned. Somewhere in the Serengeti, a lion devours his rival’s cubs. Then the lion is shot by a poacher and sold to an unloved rich man whose father was an unloved rich man. In five billion years, the Sun will become a bloated giant, boiling the oceans and consuming our pointless cruelties with flames. I wake sweat-drenched and screaming, staring at the visage of a faceless god. “WHAT HAVE I DONE?! HOW COULD I BRING A CHILD INTO THIS WORLD!?” But this god, like all gods, is nothing—just my son’s Wilson baseball mitt, sitting on my dresser, mocking me.
Will February March? No, but April May! Soon we become ash, and time forgets us.
Source: https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/nihilist-dad-jokes
Years ago I used to use a LexisNexis database of companies that would give corporate information like name, address, and general business description. While most of them were pretty bland, there were a bunch of them with some really cheesy puns, and over a few years I built quite a collection.
Today I share with you "NEXIS IS RIDICULOUS.txt":
Really close family friend of ours told us this one that allegedly happened while he was on duty. I'm going to tell it from his perspective, as it reads the 'funniest'.
So I'm on duty and we have to go and put out a simple brush fire off to the side of a busy intersection. Since it's the dry season of Southern California literally the smallest spark can cause a giant fire you know, so we're trying to put it out pretty fast. So we arrive there and we notice that an ambulance is speeding down the road to this one pretty sharp bend, and you know, they're making haste since they're on a code 3. A code 3 is where both the siren and the lights are on at the same time and they obviously have something that they need to do. Anyways, they're speeding around this corner and one of the backdoors gets flung open and a cooler flies out and lands at the curb. By this point we've handled the fire and we're just assessing the damage, like where it's spread, stuff like that, so I go and retrieve the container and I open it and inside there's a human toe in there. I tell most of my crew and we decide that we'll get the toe back to the paramedics and then head back to the station. So we call the emergency services and we let them know that some EMT's have left a human body part and didn't come back to get it. They tell us, "we'll have someone come pick it up soon". We wait about 20 minutes and no one arrives and we're all a bit startled that no one's come back to come pick up a fucking human toe, so we call back and they give us the same thing. Half an hour goes by so I decide to call AAA and see if they can help us. Sure enough, AAA is able to help us and within 10 minutes they dispatch the help we need by sending us a toe truck.
Coffee used to be made in a coffee pot. Now, everyone uses a drip coffee maker, but they still call the container a pot. It doesn't get put on a fire to make the coffee perk, so it isn't a coffee pot. It is a carafe.
You have a carafe of coffee. You pour the coffee out of the carafe into a cup. It is now decarafinated coffee.
I am a dad, and I approve this message!
Please note that this site uses cookies to personalise content and adverts, to provide social media features, and to analyse web traffic. Click here for more information.