Archive for the ‘Jokes & Puns’ Category

With “coven mitts.”

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tweetsI use Twitter to entertain myself because (1) I don’t have many followers and (2) if I did have a lot of followers, most of them would unfollow me from perplexity, boredom, or the fear that my mental derangements might somehow be catching.

As you’ll notice, this piece of self-knowledge has not stopped me from sharing with you my favorites from the past six months. What a tangle a person is.


Never criticize second-rate literature. Its fans go bat-shit and no one else gives a damn.

Ants invaded my favorite apple cake. I ate them. I am #Shiva, destroyer of worlds.

No no no! I need #phlebotomy, not lobotomy!

King Herod – This agreement requires me to give you the head of John the Baptist. #Salome – Oh, that’s just my standard contract.

My wife says, “You use #commas where I would not. But I love you anyhow.”

This tweet is a non-update on my #writing. Disappointed? No, I didn’t think so.

#Puns are the whoopie cushions of wit.

If I’m not bored at least once during a baseball game, I haven’t gotten my money’s worth.

“I say verily I will bless the deserving poor as soon as I find some.” Acts of the Agostinians 17: 11-12

Kim Yong-un vows to shoot down #Santa if he violates North Korean airspace. St. Nick deploys stealth Rudolph and drone elves in response.

Asked of iPhone: “Siri, should I drink more?” Answer: “I have found 9 bars near your location.”

#Running is the perfect exercise for Protestants – it’s dull, painful, and good for you.

Wife: What would it* say if it could talk? Me: I’m sick of this guy too.

* Yes, the “it” is what you think it is.

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Valentine's Day NotI’m a Valentine’s Day dissident. I believe in love. I love my wife. But I think Valentine’s Day is a racket designed to make me feel bad unless I lay down coin and buy some crap that I don’t like — and more to the point, my wife doesn’t like.

This is love? No. This is an emotional extortion scheme with clever marketing people behind it.

As a result, I’d like to offer a comprehensive list of things I’m not getting for my wife tomorrow. To wit:

Flowers. Flowers are great. But it’s always better to buy them when my wife is not expecting them. Like on February 15. When they are half price.

Chocolate. Chocolate is great. But ibid my comment about surprise and half price.

Lingerie. Heck if I know whether these things are the right size or not. And I always run the risk of my wife opening the box and saying, “I see what you got you for Valentine’s Day. What did you get me?”

Hoodie Footie Pajamas. Adults do not wear footie pajamas. And they definitely don’t wear matching footie pajamas.

Charm Bracelets. Dangly crap that jangles around your wrist. No thanks. And since my wife doesn’t much like jewelry in general, I just skip the whole category.

Dinner Out. Dinner out is great but even good restaurants will put together weird prix fixe “love” menus with some sweetish lady-drink cocktail when I’d rather have a beer and some heavy dessert when I’d rather have, well, another beer. Plus everywhere is crowded and they want to turn their tables fast, and I get that, and it’s fine, but it’s not the best time.

Poetry. Poetry’s great but if you’re me, the Muse either shows up or she doesn’t, and she ain’t shown. And I’m not giving my wife poetry you find inside a big pink card. Have you read that stuff? Well this poem might not be any better.

Crap Delivered by Someone Dressed as a Teddy Bear. I actually heard this advertised on the radio. What the heck? Teddy-bear delivery people are the only thing that might make me support Florida-style “Stand Your Ground” laws.

So what am I going to do to demonstrate my eternal devotion to my wife? I’m going to fall on my knees … and clean the bathroom without being asked.

Toilet? Shining like a whistle. Tub? Same thing. Those mold spots growing on the shower walls? Gone. Tile floor? Freshly mopped. Paper? New roll actually installed not just sitting on the shelf.

If that ain’t love and romance, people, I don’t know what is.


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“You give them mouth to mouse resuscitation.”

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“Choking on the entire prix-fixe dinner at Le Bernardin is my greatest aspiration!”

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“Did you see the article in the paper today about the new eczema treatment?”


“Did it go into detail?”

“No. It only scratched the surface.”

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ayn rand smilingI’ve always liked jokes that don’t advertise themselves as jokes, so I thoroughly enjoyed John Hodgman’s “Shouts & Murmurs” piece titled Ask Ayn Rand on The New Yorker website in which he pens fake columns from Parade Magazine for Ayn.

Part of the reason I like the “joke in disguise” is that so many things in life that sound like a joke are actually true. (Sex comes immediately to mind as an example.) That the absurd often seems plausible is one of the delights — and one of the lessons — of life.

I also like the “joke in disguise” because I’ve always been interested in just how many ridiculous things you can get away with saying, at least for a while, if you say them with a straight-enough face.  This probably explains my continuing interest in politics.

John Hodgman’s piece is a fine example of “the joke in disguise”. My reactions followed the usual life cycle of this humor: This is great! followed by This is funny! followed by Hey, wait a minute followed by Got me, John! When I reached this passage, I knew I had been gotten:

I do not hesitate to say, objectively, definitively, that “Caddyshack” is the year’s best movie. Rodney Dangerfield plays a self-made man who is not ashamed of his ambition, who does not apologize for his success, and who gets excitement from the joyful reality that we are all going to get laid if we are willing to be productively selfish and to stop coddling the weak.

I’m sure I liked Hodgman’s piece because I also like Ayn Rand humor. My Ayn Rand Talks Fantasy Football post remains one of my personal favorites, and as an ambitious and productively selfish blogger, I’m giving it a plug here. Unlike Hodgman’s piece, however, it is obviously a joke from the beginning.

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What do you call a container that may or may not hold liquid?

A juggernaut.

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Any vintage of “Que Syrah, Syrah Gran Reserva”.

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