Puny, Very Puny, says Stella

HUMOR FOR LEXOPHILES (LOVERS OF WORDS):

I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.


Police were called to a day care where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.


Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's all right now.


The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.


The butcher backed up into the meat grinder and got a little behind in his work.


To write with a broken pencil is pointless.


When fish are in schools they sometimes take debate.


The short fortune teller who escaped from prison was described as a small medium at large.


A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months.


A thief fell and broke his leg in wet cement. He became a hardened criminal.


Thieves who steal corn from a cornfield could be charged with stalking.


We'll never run out of math teachers because they always multiply.


When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, U.C.L.A.


The math professor went crazy with the blackboard. He did a number on it.


The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground.


The dead batteries were given out free of charge.


If you take a laptop computer for a run you could jog your memory.


A dentist and a manicurist fought tooth and nail.


A backward poet writes inverse.


If you don't pay your exorcist you can get repossessed.


With her marriage she got a new name and a dress.


When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds.


A grenade fell onto a kitchen floor in France, resulted in Linoleum Blownapart.


You are stuck with your debt if you can't budge it.


He broke into song because he couldn't find the key.


A calendar's days are numbered.


A lot of money is tainted: 'Taint yours, and 'taint mine.


A plateau is a high form of flattery.


Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.


If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.


When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.

*~*


Last night I woke up (this morning, really) at 2 and panicked. My head ached, my back ached, my stomach ached . . . At first I was terrified. What could be wrong with me? Then I remembered what I always remember when I'm within a few days of finishing a book:



"I'm mad. I can't write a book. This whole story sucks. Now everyone will find out what a dolt I am. What shall I do? I'll go to a hotel and register under a phony name so no one can find me. No, won't work, they'd still dig me out. I'll leave the country. If they find me then I can say I went to avoid prosecution. If they ask me what I'm being prosecuted for, I'll wing it, again . . ."



Where else but with all of you could I share this deep, very dark secret?


Puns, by the way, always cheer me up so I decided to share my recent collection.


If you have any advice to help me, or any puns to share--have at it!



I think I see my yellow sumbarine--gotta go,

Stella:)