Paint It, Black Puns

But now it doesn't work :(

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

They just painted it black. I couldn't get no satisfaction with it.

My vision was light blue walls but I guess I always can't get what I want.

Every year for the past few years, I’ve written music for a tuba ensemble for a summer band camp. Last year’s music was titled “TubaChristmas in July,” which had “Hallelujah” by Pentatonix, “Carol of the Bells,” “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” and “Have Yourself a Merry TubaChristmas.” This year I’m about 90% sure we’re doing rock/classic rock. So far I have “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen, “Paint It, Black” by The Rolling Stones, “Livin’ on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi, “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, and some fifth song I haven’t chosen yet (BTW I’m open to song ideas).

I need a pun that mixes Tuba with Rock or with Classic Rock. Similar to how TubaChristmas in July doesn’t include song names, but you know it’s Christmas music on tubas.

I'm chatting with my girlfriend's dad about his recent ice fishing trip when he pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of his ice fishing spot.

It is just a picture of the lake-ice with a black X spray painted onto it.

I look at him, confused at first but then I realized he was kidding with me.

I tell him that he is going to have a hard time finding it next year.

He responds "I know the ice is going to melt, that's why I took a picture"

I had just finished painting my nails when my aunt and uncle came over. My nails were all black, except my ring fingers which were a deep red. My uncle asked me why some of my nails were a different color. "It's called an accent nail. They're really in style." I informed him. "More like accident nail!" He then proceeded to laugh quite a bit at his own joke.