The key to the conversation.
Filed under 2024, Cartoon, fun, joke, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a young writer in France,
Who for the New Year wanted to dance.
To get out of his rut,
Outside he did strut,
But forgot he was wearing no pants.
Filed under 2023, joke, joke by author, limerick, poem, poetry, poetry by author, Poetry by David E. Booker, writing humor
A philosopher, a sage, and a writer enter a bar.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks the philosopher.
“The ‘it.’ Yes, the ‘it.’ What will ‘it’ be? That is the question for our time.” She then turns and rushes out of the bar to work on that burning question.
Next, the bartender asks the sage: “What’ll it be?”
“‘It’ will be the beginning. ‘It’ will be the end. ‘It’ will be what was before, what is now, and what will be.” He, too, turn and walks out of the room.
The bartender finally turns to the writer, and a little exasperated, says, “You know the question. What’ll it be?”
“I don’t know what ‘it’ will be. ‘It’ could be anything since there is no antecedent noun for ‘it’ to refer to,” the writer says. “But I will be happy with a beer.”
Filed under 2017, joke, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
Q.: How did this (see photo below) man get past NASA security?
A.: He shuttled in.
Puns, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the UGBC (You Gotta Be Crazy) Punster, it’s ongoing irritation….
Filed under joke, puns, Silly Saturday
A screenwriter comes home to a burned down house. His sobbing and slightly-charred wife is standing outside. “What happened, honey?” the man asks.
“Oh, John, it was terrible,” she weeps. “I was cooking, the phone rang. It was your agent. Because I was on the phone, I didn’t notice the cooker was on fire. It went up in seconds. Everything is gone. I nearly didn’t make it out of the house. Poor Moggie is…”
“Wait, wait. Back up a minute,” the man says. “My agent called?”
Filed under joke, Monday morning writing joke, writing humor
A little old lady went to the grocery store to buy cat food. She picked up four cans and took them to the checkout counter.
The girl at the cash register said, “I’m sorry, but we cannot sell you cat food without proof that you have a cat. A lot of old people buy cat food to eat, and the management wants proof that you are buying the cat food for your cat.”
The little old lady went home, picked up her cat and brought it back to the store.
They sold her the cat food.
The next day, she tried to buy two cans of dog food.
Again the cashier said “I’m sorry, but we cannot sell you dog food without proof that you have a dog. A lot of old people buy dog food to eat, but the management wants proof that you are buying the dog food for your dog.”
So she went home and brought in her dog.
She then was able to buy the dog food.
The next day she brought in a box with a hole in the lid.
The little old lady asked the cashier to stick her finger in the hole.
The cashier said, “No, you might have a snake in there.”
The little old lady assured her that there was nothing in the box that would harm her.
So the cashier put her finger into the box and quickly pulled it out.
She said to the little old lady, “That smells like poop.”
The little old lady said, “It is. I want to buy three rolls of toilet paper.”
Don’t mess with old people.
The local news station was interviewing an 80-year-old lady because she had just gotten married for the fourth time.
The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about what it felt like to be marrying again at 80, and then about her new husband’s occupation.
“He’s a funeral director,” she answered.
“Interesting,” the newsman said.
He then asked her if she wouldn’t mind telling him a little about her first three husbands and what they did for a living.
She paused for a few moments, needing time to reflect on all those years.
After a short time, a smile came to her face and she answered proudly, explaining that she had first married a banker when she was in her 20s, then a circus ringmaster when in her 40s, and a preacher when in her 60s, and now – in her 80′ – a funeral director.
The interviewer looked at her, quite astonished, and asked why she had married four men with such diverse careers.
(wait for it)
She smiled and explained, “I married
one for the money,
two for the show,
three to get ready,
and four to go.”
And that’s the box you leave in.
Or as the young grocery bagger who introduced the funeral director and the 80-year-old lady put it: “Will that be paper or plastic?”
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