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.

“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

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📅︎ Aug 07 2020
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My Dad's Favorite Joke

Okay so the animals have been on the ark for thirty days and thirty nights and frankly they are getting bored. So to provide entertainment B-Deck challenges C-Deck to a game of football. They get it all set up and begin play. B-Deck makes some early gains but C-Deck is unstoppable. They have Rhinoceros and once he gets going you cant stop him. Soon the first half is over and the score is 24-7. The second half begins and while in the huddle Rhinoceros looks over at B-Decks defensive line and sees Centipede on their defensive line. "Give me the ball," he says, "There aren't going to be any centipedes in the new world because I'm crushing this one right here and right now" The Center snaps the ball and the quarterback hands it off to Rhinoceros who begins charging down Centipede. Centipede rears up grabs Rhinoceros by the legs and SLAMS him to the deck. Ball pops loose, centipede grabs the ball. He's rushing down the field weaving in and out and TOUCHDOWN!!! The crowd goes wild! C-Deck's captain, Lion rushes over and says, "Centipede that was amazing! Where were you in the first half?" "Well I was lacing my shoes."

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📅︎ May 12 2018
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My Dad's Top Two Jokes

Joke #1: Me: Where is mom? Dad: Oh, she's under the bed. (Or whatever piece of furniture he thinks of first. Not once in my life have I asked him where my mom is and he's given me a straight answer. She's always under some piece of furniture.)

Joke #2: Dad: Ok, tell me how's it going... I start to talk about how I'm doing...
Dad: No, tell me how's it going. Me: .... Oh, how's it going. Dad: I'm doing great, but tell me how you are doing. (When I was little, this could go on for a while.)

My sisters and I are in our thirties and he still does whenever we call.

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📅︎ Aug 07 2014
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