
You still ode me for the last visit.
A dog, a doctor, and writer arrive outside heaven. The dog is let in because of its companionship. The doctor is let in because of her work saving lives. The writer is sent to purgatory to do another draft.
Filed under 2020, Monday morning writing joke
Two writers went to the same doctor’s office on the same day. She told each one he didn’t have long to live.
“It’s awful,” said the first writer. “I’m right in the middle of a novel and she’s only given me six months to live. I’ll never get it finished. What about you?”
“It’s awful for me, too,” said the second writer. “She gave me three years to live.”
“Three years!” the first writer said. “Three years! What’s so awful about that?”
“I write short stories,” the second writer said. “And I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Filed under 2020, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
It’s gone to his head.
That’s what the foot doctor said.
Hangnail of the mind.
Filed under 2020, Haiku to You Thursday, Poetry by David E. Booker

My doctor’s closet /
is on a knee to show basis. /
No bones about it.
Commemorating 50 years of Star Trek. One of the original, iconic characters, Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy.
Filed under 2016, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday
Lawyer: “Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?”
Doctor: “No.”
Lawyer: “Did you check for blood pressure?”
Doctor: “No.”
Lawyer: “Did you check for breathing?”
Doctor: “No.”
Lawyer: “So, then, is it possible the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?”
Doctor: “No.”
Lawyer: “Doctor, how can you be so sure?”
Doctor: “Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.”
Lawyer: “But could the patient have still been alive nonetheless?”
Doctor: “Yes, it is possible. He could have been alive and practicing law.”
Filed under 2016, Monday morning writing joke
Wearing paper pants /
waiting for Doctor Godot /
Kafka is my nurse.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author