Push-ups should be renamed to "kneel arm-strong"
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πŸ“…︎ Feb 12 2019
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En garde!
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πŸ‘€︎ u/Ahydron
πŸ“…︎ Nov 26 2020
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This story is about a man called Trevor, and his obsession with tractors.

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.

β€œWell” said Jeff, β€œAs 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.

β€œYes of course” replied Trevor

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πŸ‘€︎ u/ShredderSte
πŸ“…︎ Aug 07 2020
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Busted out this gem after only three weeks of being a dad

I picked up my daughter after being outside in the cold and she started squirming from the touch of my ice cold hands. My wife asked for her back and I said "not unless you pry her from my cold dad hands"

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πŸ‘€︎ u/hubetronic
πŸ“…︎ Dec 30 2014
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Jeff has had only one dream ever in his life, to become a train conductor.

Jeff went to his local train station and begged for the job. He got a job, as a janitor. Every day he swept the train car floors. To make his job easier, he added certain style to his sweeping technique. He used a 3 level system for how powerful he wanted to sweep. He had a small sweep for small piles of dust. Medium sweeps for leftover chip bags and plactic bottles. And the Super Mega Large sweeps for when there were spider webs as big as the train.

Jeff was a master sweeper, so he got Promoted!.. To hobo kicking. Nowadays he comes to the train station early in the morning, finds the nearest hobo, and kicks him out. However, Jeff's legs hurt after several strong kicks, so he used his 3 level system in hobo kicking. He had a small kick for tiny, bite sized hobos. Medium kicks for your average sized hobo. And his Super Mega Powerful kick for 300 pound hobos.

Jeff was sooooo good at kicking hobos and he was Promoted!.. to coal shoveling. Jeff arrives 20 minutes before his train departure, loads up with the conductor, and shovels coal. likewise with his legs, Jeff's arms got tired after several large piles of shoveled coal, so he used his 3 level system to rest Jeff's weak arms. Jeff dumps small piles of coal in the incinerator to send the train at a slow pace. He dumps a Medium pile for a somewhat fast pace. But when the train station's 30 miles away and he's scheduled to arrive in 7 minutes, Jeff uses his Big Gargantuan Humongous shoveling strength to send the train at super sonic speed!

After all of Jeff's many years of working for this train station, they finally promote him to Train Conductor! Jeff shows up to work 30 minutes early on his first day, conducts the train for his first time ever, and crashes the train. He injures 30 and kills 13 more. Jeff is sentenced to Death.

The day of Jeff's execution, he's asked for his last meal. Jeff tells the guard that he wants a 13 foot stack of pancakes and a 40 ounce jug of green Kool-Aid. Jeff takes exactly 34 minutes to eat with it all. 26 Mintues later, Jeff is taken to the electric chair.

Jeff sits down in the electric chair, and is strapped in by a nearby guard. After all the safety precautions, they turn on the electric chair.

BZZZZZZ

Nothin happened. The guard is confused and Jeff is confused. The guard trys it again.

BZZZZZZ

Nothing. Jeff doesn't even move a muscle. The guard decides to let Jeff go since he can't kill him. Before Jeff leaves, the guard has one question.

Guard : "Excuse me um, J

... keep reading on reddit ➑

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πŸ‘€︎ u/Saspa314
πŸ“…︎ Sep 11 2019
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[x-post /r/Jokes] [OC] An old blacksmith was working in his shop...

when there was a terrible accident. The fire in his forge had gone out of control and set fire to the shop. The blacksmith nearly lost his life. He was bedridden for many months and relied on the help of his children and grandchildren to feed him, bathe him, and take care of all of his needs. Eventually he was able to get back on his feet, though his outlook on life had turned quite grim. He was now able to take care of himself, but he had lost much of his strength and dexterity from the injuries he sustained and he was unable to practice his trade. He fell into a deep depression and he spent most of his days sitting at home in front of the fireplace gazing into the flames, longing for the days when his strong hands could grasp a hammer and strike a hot piece of iron, slowly forging it into a beautiful piece of work.

One evening when the old man was sitting in front of the fire, he heard a knock at the door. It was his granddaughter, whom he hadn't seen in many months. She had overheard her father talking to her mother about how her grandfather was slowly slipping away into depression and hopelessness and she wanted to help. To the old man's surprise, she had brought him a puppy. "I thought that since you're always here all by yourself that you might want someone you keep you company," the granddaughter said. The old man's eyes welled up with tears and the little puppy instantly jumped into his arms and began licking the tears from his face. The old man and his granddaughter spent the next several hours sitting on the floor of his house watching the puppy chase around a rubber ball, bouncing, jumping, panting, and licking. In that short time, the old man had made complete turnaround from being sad, lonely, and hopeless, to smiling from ear to ear, full of joy with his new-found companion. As the hours grew late and the puppy grew tired, the granddaughter said "Well Opa, I'm glad you like your puppy, but it's late and I should be heading home. By the way, what are you going to call him?" "Life," said the old man, "because he has given me a new meaning and joy to mine." The granddaughter kissed her grandfather on the cheek, wished him goodnight, and she left.

Many years passed and all the while, the old man and his little dog were inseparable. Everywhere the old man went, Life was always with him whether it was the post office, the grocery store, and even when the old man went to the barber shop, the little dog would sit patiently until the last hair on

... keep reading on reddit ➑

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πŸ‘€︎ u/MyOtherAccount_3
πŸ“…︎ Aug 27 2016
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my father loves to tell this one

So in France in the 1500s there was an old tall church, and recently, the man who rings the bells grew sick and died. So the priest decided to hold interview for the job of the bell ringer. Nobody showed up but one man, he was a tall, strong looking man, but he had no arms. The priest, not wanting to turn anyone away, gave the man an interview, he seemed qualified but the priest didn't know how he would ring the bell, so he said no "Oh please father let me do it I'll prove myself, oh it'll be the best you've ever seen" the priest decided to give him a chance, they went up the winding stairs for a while till they reached the top. The man looked at the massive bell, but with excitement not fear, he was to ring the bell 5 times. He stepped back and ran full speed hitting his face to the bell, BANG. He stepped back, a bit shook up, but he shook it off and ran at the bell again, once again with his face, BANG. He did that two more times, then after the forth time He stepped back for the grand finale. He ran full speed and smashed the bell with such force it could be heard towns over, but with the force he was knocked back over the threshold and put if the tower to his death the priest ran full speed down the stairs to find a crowd around the mangled body of the of the armless man, a man walked over the priest and said "father who was this man who fell from the tower" to which the priest replied "I never caught his name but his face rings a bell".

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πŸ‘€︎ u/KattheImpaler8
πŸ“…︎ Aug 21 2014
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