State Room Puns

I would walk into every room while giving tours with my arms outstretched, head tilted slightly upwards, eyes shining, just admiring the beauty of the space and then spin around slowly and proudly state, "And this? THIS is where the magic happens!"

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

Friends Wife: I wonder if its really hot in there for the baby? Me: It's likely womb-temperature.

My proudest moment of 2013 and had to share!

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

... but by the time I made it to the break room, the sausage rolls were gone.

I stood there, looking at the donuts, lamenting the missed opportunity of the sausage rolls.

Another coworker overheard me, stating "Well maybe it's a good thing, ya know, maybe you're watching your weight?"

I picked up a chocolate frosted donut and took a bite. I turned to her and replied, "Yes, I am watching my weight."

"But shouldn't you not -"

"I'm watching my weight go up."

I'm eating in the living room and he comes out and says:

So, I was listening to NPR on the way home and they were talking about that New York soda law. They were talking about sizes of sodas across the nation and how New York is far from having the smallest sized sodas, and that the state with the actual on-average smallest sized sodas is

Mini-soda.

So, he made chili for us to eat while watching the Cubs game. His girlfriend, who is in a different state, called as we were watching the game and eating. I hear him say to her, "Oh yeah, is it pretty chilly over there?" Then I say to him, "It's pretty chili over here too" and then looked him as I ate a giant spoonful. He rolled his eyes and went into the other room.

Went to Disney for our Honeymoon last week.. We went into the Presidents Hall, and on the floor in the middle of the room is The Great Seal of The United States I take one glance at my new wife... "That's not a seal, that's an eagle!" I got a few groans and a couple of laughs from dads around the room. Im not a dad yet... But I think Ill do just fine.

Edit: http://imgur.com/dV5hb71 is a picture of the actual seal from Disneyworld

phone starts ringing, says its a telemarketer from "MO"

me: Dad, MO is Montana, right?

Dad: No, its Missouri.

Me: Why MO? Nobody notices the "O" in Missouri.

Dad: There's a lot of other states that start with an "M".

Me: What about MR? What does that one stand for?

...then my dad looks at me and smiles and says "Mister"... I rolled my eyes and went back to my room.

So my dad pretty much lays this one on every friend of mine he ever meets.

There once was this man named Benny, who had the strongest desire to live forever. The devil knew these desires, and arose out of the dephts to make a deal with Benny.

The deal stated that, in exchange for Benny's soul, he would be gifted with immortality. The only condition was that Benny could not shave any part of his body, ever, or he would be instantly transformed into an urn.

Benny went on with his now unending life and found himself falling in love with a girl shortly after accepting this deal with the devil. The girl however. Would not love him back because of his ridiculously long hair covering his entire body. It was said that the hair from his knuckles would sweep the floor when he walked into the room, and he would constantly trip himself on his beard.

The girl eventually died and Benny fell into a deep depression. He decided it would be best to end his misery by going to a barbershop, and getting a shave. He sat in the barber's seat, and as soon as the blade reached his skin, he was transformed, and all that remained in the seat was a large, metal urn.

The moral of the story... A Benny Shaved is a Benny Urned.

Dad's on the computer in my room stating out things on an application, gets to the Race section. He say's "Race? No, I hate running." turns to me and laughs for a solid 20 minutes.