Sweat Room Puns

I said," ahh sweatin to the foldies"

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

(This just transpired: I got sweaty cleaning out my shower and walked into the hall to cool off.)

Me to my SO: Shower is clean.

SO: oh good. Ew. You're gross

Me: yeah. I'm sweating.

14 y/o from down the hall in her room while painting her nails yells: "HI SWEATING!"

(I'm so proud)

Walked into the gym locker room yesterday and some guy was half-jokingly ranting about smelly dudes in the gym to the guys around him. I'm just doing my thing, getting dressed, putting on deodorant when the guy notices me.

Guy: See, this guy gets it. Thank you for actually using deodorant.

Me: No sweat.

At work today, a friend of mine came in with two dried Carolina Reaper peppers. If you aren't familiar with these bad boys, they are hotter than Lucifer's testicles themselves. 2.2 Million Scoville units. Two times hotter than the ghost pepper.

To put it into perspective, a jalapeno is about 5000 scoville units. This one was 2.2 fucking million.

Anyway. I walked past my buddy's desk and he asked if I wanted some of the pepper.

OF COURSE I DID!!!

He gave me 1/4 of one of these little peppers and he even dared me to chew it for 15 seconds before swallowing. Which I did. To say that my mouth felt like the burning hemorrhoids of satans budding asshole would be a vast understatement.

One of the girls who sat near my buddy looks at me -- pacing back and forth around the room, sweating, crying -- and she says:

>"Cane-Dewey, are you alright!?"

I could barely breathe let alone speak. But through all the pain and angush, I still managed to mutter out:

>"No, I'm half left.

Last night at around midnight, I took my friend/roommate/exboyfriend to the ER when he came literally crawling to my room incoherent and sweating and shaking because of head pain.

When we got there I called his parents to let them know what was going on. They rushed over and met us in his room where the doctor was giving him some neurological tests. The ER doc decided it was most likely a migraine or cluster headache and gave my friend pain medicine and an IV, but wanted to do a CAT scan just to rule out any bleeding.

So they took him off to get the scan, and his parents and I sat around talking. His dad was practically falling asleep in his chair as I had woken them up with my call, but he still managed to drop this one when they wheeled my friend back into the room:

He gave the nurse pushing my friend's cart a worried look. "Don't sugar coat it, did you find any cats in there?"

Flatmate: Ah! Ronald [the dog] gets so smelly after he sweats! I didn't even know dogs had pores! I thought they sweat by panting or something!

Me: What are you talking about!? Their paws are on the bottom of their legs!

heavy groaning by everyone in the room