Some days you get the /
dry sleeping bag; other days /
the bag gets soggy.
Filed under 2018, haiku, Photo by Lauren Booker, poetry by author
There once was a writer off for college /
All in the pursuit of higher knowledge. /
The four years they say /
Only got in the way /
And caused a great deal of haulage.
Filed under 2018, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
There once was a author from Brisbane /
who thought a writer from Lisbon /
tortured language in a way /
that was “an assault and pepper spray” /
a syntax attack, if not misprision.
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke, poetry by author
A writer and a genie were trapped in a stuck elevator.
Writer: “Can you get us out of this?”
Genie: “Is that your wish?”
Writer, after thinking about: “Maybe we’ll wait.”
They wait two hours. Then three. Then six. Then….
Finally the writer said: “I wish for everybody in this building to have a wish.”
The genie wasn’t sure what he was getting at by that wish, but there was nothing in the rules against wishing everybody in the building have a wish, so he granted it.
The elevator doors immediately opened. But before the writer could step out, the elevator doors slammed shut and the elevator plunged downward, then upward, then crashed through the building and when it finally stopped the elevator doors opened on hell. The flames shot into the elevator, growing larger, brighter, and hotter.
Shaken by the experience, the writer sputtered: “I wish I had never made my wish.”
The slammed shut. The fire was gone, and the elevator was exactly where it had been when the wishing first started.
Eventually the doors were opened and as the writer was helped out, somebody asked him how he had managed to survive over nine hours in such a small space with nothing to do.
The writer smiled: “I’m a writer. Many days I spend my time in a small space where nothing seems to happen. Usually my imagination fills in the gaps. This was more or less a typical day for me.”
Filed under 2018, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
First writer: “Did you hear about the mystery writer whose husband kept asking Alexa for jokes?”
Second writer: “No, what happened?”
First writer: “He was found dead in his bathtub this morning. The police think he was ‘Alexa-cuted.'”
Second writer: “Self-inflicted or murder?”
First writer: “They don’t know, but the police are pretty sure she’ll make book on it.”
Filed under 2018, joke by author, Monday morning writing joke
Hurray for those who /
lift their voices and their signs. /
Behold a new Day.
Rain will not dampen /
nor NRA lies decide /
the truth, nor the youth.
The weeping picture: /
Nostalgia for the forgotten. /
Captured by brush stroke.
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, poetry by author
Paddy says to Mick, “I’m getting circumcised tomorrow.”
Mick says, “I had that done when I was a few days old.”
Paddy asks, “Does it hurt?”
Mick says, “Well I couldn’t walk for about a year.”
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke
Four brothers left home for college, and they became successful doctors and lawyers.
One evening, they chatted after having dinner together. They discussed the 95th birthday gifts they were able to give their elderly mother who moved to Florida .
Milton, the first said, “You know I had a big house built for Mama.”
Marvin, the second oldest said, “And I had a large theater built in the house.”
Michael, the third son, said, “And I had my Mercedes dealer deliver an SL600 to her.”
Melvin, the youngest, said, “You know how Mama loved reading the Bible and you know she can’t read anymore because she can’t see very well. I met this preacher who told me about a parrot who could recite the entire Bible. It took ten preachers almost 8 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $50,000 a year for five years to the church, but it was worth it Mama only has to name the chapter and verse, and the parrot will recite it.”
The other brothers were impressed. Sometime after the celebration, Mama sent out her Thank You notes.
She wrote: “Milton, the house you built is so huge that I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway.”
“Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home; I have my groceries delivered, so I never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks.”
“Michael, you gave me an expensive theater with Dolby sound and it can hold 50 people, but all of my friends are dead, I’ve lost my hearing, and I’m nearly blind. I’ll never use it. Thank you for the gesture just the same.”
“Dearest Melvin, you were the only son to have the good sense to give a little thought to your gift. The chicken was delicious Thank you so much.”
Love, Mama
Filed under 2018, Monday morning writing joke
A thousand thieves may /
rip the jonquils from the ground /
but they can’t steal Spring.
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, poetry by author, Uncategorized
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