Ah … the impetuousness of youth.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Then there were days that were a mystery to him.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
A doctor, a lawyer, and a writer stood outside a department store on the day after Thanksgiving waiting to be let in for the big sale.
The doctor said, “I should go in first because of all the lives I saved with my prowess as a surgeon. I need to get back to the operating room.”
The lawyer said, “I should go in first because of all the bad people I put in prison so that they couldn’t hurt anybody anymore. In fact, I have another case to try in a few hours.”
After a few moments of silence, the doctor and the lawyer turned to the writer.
“Well?” the doctor asked.
“Don’t you want to go in first?” the lawyer asked.
“No,” the writer said. “All I want to get is my tea mug that I left in there last night when I was helping them put out the stock. This is my seasonal job to make ends meet. I have to work here to help out my dad, whose in the hospital with chest problems, my younger brother who has a learning disability, and my grandmother, who could go to jail for shoplifting to help pay for her medications.”
They were so stunned that when the doors opened, he walked inside ahead of them and got what he wanted. He didn’t work there, and his parents and brother were fine. They were waiting in line at other stores. He was, after all, a fiction writer.
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
It was almost enough to drive a man to drink.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Two writers were sitting at a bar, as writers are sometimes known to do.
A woman at a table near the bar was doing her best to get the attention of one of the writers. The other writer noticed this and asked the first writer what was going on.
First writer: “She sent me a text message.”
Second writer: “A fan of yours?”
First message: “I hope not. Her message said: ‘Y-o-u-r cute.’ I sent her back a message that said: ‘No. Y-O-U-R-‘-E cute.’ I was only correcting her misspelling.”
Second writer: “And?”
First writer: “And now she thinks I like her. I can’t get her to leave me alone.”
Second writer: “Here, let me see you phone.”
First writer hands the second writer his phone. Second writer types a message and sends it. The woman looks at it, shows it to her friend, puts a sour look on her face, and then gets up and leaves.
First writer: “What did you write?”
Second writer shows him. The message read: “You’re not my typo.”
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
At least Willard has reached some point in his writing.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Q.: What did the hard-working zombie writer named Kate call herself?
A.: Dead-i-Kate
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
Space really was the final frontier. Who knew you could find it in an oven?
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Three writers are sitting at a bar. It’s the first time they’ve met.
After a drink or two, the first writer turns to the others at the bar and says, “I had a strange dream last night.”
The second writer asked, “How strange was it?”
“Well, the first writer says, “I dreamed I went to Hell and a lot of famous writers were there. You know, Mark Twain, Dorothy Parker, Albert Camus.”
“Really,” says the second writer. “I dreamed I went to Heaven and a lot of famous writers were there. You know, C.S. Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, John Bunyan.”
When he didn’t say anything, they asked the third writer, who said, “I dreamed I was in a bar with two other writers.”
The next night the three writers met again at the bar.
The first writer said, “I dreamed I was in Heaven, and I saw all those writers you mentioned.”
The second writer said, “I dreamed I was in Hell, and I saw all those writers you mentioned.”
Then they turned to the third writer sitting between them. He took a sip of his drink and shrugged his shoulder, “I dreamed I was in a bar with two other writers.”
After another drink, they started talking about their work.
“I’m a crime writer,” said the first writer.
“I’m a romance writer,” said the second writer.
They then turned to third writer who sighed and said, “I’m a travel writer.”
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
“Outside a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside a dog, it’s too dark to read.” –Groucho Marx
Groucho Marx
Filed under Monday morning writing joke
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