At least during this National Novel Writing Month, Willard remembered to thaw the bird before trying to bake it.
Category Archives: 2015
Monday morning writing joke: “Down for the count”
There once was a writer from down under
Whose editor rent all his things asunder.
Passive verbs and weak nouns
Were found all over the ground
And woe be to each adverbial blunder.
***
A man woke up in a hospital after a serious accident. He shouted, “Doctor, doctor, I can’t feel my legs!”
The doctor replied, “I know you can’t; I’ve cut off your arms!”
Filed under 2015, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
The blathering idiot and Saturdays
The blathering idiot and Lydia, his campaign manager for the Pro-Accordion Party, were driving down the road from one stump speech stop to another in his quest for the highest office in the land. It was hard to keep up with the other candidates. He had crossed paths with one of them recently and happened to catch part of what he was saying. What surprised the blathering idiot even more than the other candidates way of speech delivery was the sign on the front of his lectern. Apparently the silent majority stood with this candidate. From the way the candidate was speaking, attacking everyone and everything that wasn’t American and white, he could understand why the “majority” was silent: It couldn’t get in a word edgewise.
The blathering idiot had always wanted to adopt Saturdays.
The older woman behind the counter looked up and said, “Is this a joke?”
“I’ve always wanted to adopt Saturdays. All of them, if I could. Ever since I was a kid, it was my favorite day of the week. Wake up late, eat two bowls of my favorite cereal, watch cartoons until my eyes were about to pop, then eat popcorn for lunch, and ride bikes with my friends, pedaling so hard we wanted to throw up. I want to adopt Saturdays.”
“Who don’t adopt Saturdays here,” the woman said.
“But your sign says—”
“That sign is for dogs.”
“You mean dogs can adopt Saturdays, but I can’t?” If so, it really was a dog’s life.
“No. The sign is about adopting dogs.”
“You mean if I adopt a dog, the dog can adopt Saturdays?”
“Get out. Now!”
The blathering idiot hustled out the door and back to the campaign car and climbed inside.
“Are you okay?” Lydia asked.
The blathering idiot sighed. “I wish I was eleven and it was Saturday. Saturdays when you are eleven are the best Saturdays there are.”
He wondered if the silent majority felt that way, too.
Filed under 2015, blathering idiot, political humor
Photo finish Friday: “Traveling”
Is this the path behind or the one ahead?
The path well known or the one less said?
Will you travel light or carry a heavy load?
Coming back with stories or learning ones untold?
Will you find true love along your path
Or will Dame fortune scheme to steal your stash?
Will your joys be many and your sorrows few?
Will you have many friends or just one or two?
Wherever you go, know that there you will be
with all the world around you and new things to see.
I wish you well as you create your pathway.
It’s built with your life, but renewed each day.
I won’t always be with you, but come what may
Maybe in your heart a small part of me will stay.
–by David E. Booker
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, poetry by author
Haiku to you Thursday: “Trees”
Trees undress for Fall. /
Dance naked to Winter’s wind. /
Entice Spring’s young eyes.
Filed under 2015, Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Writing tip Wednesday: “New Writer Award”
Glimmer Train Press: New Writer Award: 1st place $1,500 and publication in Issue 98. Deadline: 11/30.
Glimmer Train
- This category is open only to emerging writers whose fiction has not appeared in any print publication with a circulation over 5000.
- NOTE: 11 of the last 12 first-place winners have been those authors’ first print publications!
- The 1st-place winner will be published in Issue 98 and will receive 10 copies of that issue. Second- and 3rd-place win $500/$300, respectively, or, if accepted for publication, $700.
- Winners and finalists will be announced in the February 1 bulletin, and contacted directly the previous week.
- Most submissions run 1,500 – 6,000 words, but stories as long as 12,000 words are fine.
Writing Guidelines: http://www.glimmertrain.com/pages/guidelines/short_story_award_for_new_writers_guidelines.php
Filed under 2015, writing contest, writing tip, Writing Tip Wednesday
cARtOONSdAY: “dELIVERY”
Willard’s concern was further justified when he opened the refrigerator and found a slice of pizza a padded envelope.
Filed under 2015, cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Monday morning writing joke: “Carving up the profits”
A turkey and a writer walked into a local bar.
The turkey thought the writer could make him a flying star.
“I’ll tell you my life story and then you’ll write it down.
“And we’ll split all the profits when a publisher is found.”
The writer had heard such talk and promises before,
But with his feathers spread, the turkey was too big to ignore.
Getting to the heart of the matter.
The writer reached into his tattered pocket and drew out his carving knife.
What happen next to the turkey, we’re not sure we can ever tell
Only that the poor writer liked the bird, but only medium well.
Now, let this be a lesson about where the writer will start.
The pen may be mightier than the sword, but the knife can cut to the heart.
–by David E. Booker
Filed under 2015, Holidays, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
5 Common Insults That Reveal Dark Things About Society | Cracked.com
‘Slut’ or something much worse is currently tops to degrade a female perceived as promiscuous, but ‘hussy’ is a close relative and once the preferred a-bomb of past a-holes.
Source: 5 Common Insults That Reveal Dark Things About Society | Cracked.com
“Holly’s Corner,” part seven
[Writer’s note: What began as a writing prompt — photo and first paragraph — has become at least the start of a story. I will endeavor to add short sections to it, at lest as long as there is some interest. It might be a little rough in parts, but that’s because it is coming “hot off the press,” which could be part of the fun of it. In the meantime, you are free to jump off from any part of this story thus far and write your own version. Click Holly’s Corner below to get Parts 1 – 6.]
by David E. Booker
“Possibly not,” I said, then took a bite of my sandwich. I didn’t have much money left and if this case didn’t pan out, I was going to have to look for 9 – 5 work, which was something I loathed. But a recipe? Had I stooped so low as I need to chase down some family heirloom the world had not heard of nor was likely ever to?
She pushed up from stall seat, turned, and stomped out the door.
My charming personality was working wonders again.
It was a cool, rainy day down at Holly’s Corner.
I looked up.
“Got my tip?”
“Tip means To Insure Prompt Service. Should be an E, but probably nobody would say Tep. Your service was neither prompt nor ensured. Go tell your rock climbing boss he’ll get paid when I get paid, assuming my client feels like paying.”
“That’s not the deal.”
“The original deal didn’t call for you to put my client on life support, either.”
“Not my fault.”
“Those hot chocolate burns didn’t happen by themselves.”
The tables nearest us were empty and not being refilled. Since Holly’s was a seat yourself place, I could only take that to mean Marc and I were being avoided and bad for business. I liked the place and wanted to be able to come back, but before I could think of some way to end this, Marc stepped forward, picked up the half of sandwich I hadn’t gotten to yet and brought it up to his mouth. He took a big bite.
I glanced over at the nearly empty hot sauce bottle. When Tricia left, I decided I’d have the other half the way I usually do. I looked up at Marc. His broad, dark face had an eerie placidness about it as beads of sweat popped out of his forehead and scurried down his face only to be followed by another one or two or a dozen.
I hadn’t refilled my drink and there wasn’t anything on a nearby table, so Marc dropped the rest of the Ricky Ricardo on the floor, turned and raced out of the restaurant.
Everybody’s a food critic.
#
(To be continued.)
Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Story by author
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