Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comedy. Show all posts

Friday, September 23, 2016

Read this series by Patrick Weekes!

The Paladin Caper (Rogues of the Republic, #3)The Paladin Caper by Patrick Weekes
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Fun, quirky adventure fantasy. Third in the series. I suppose this one could be read on its own, but generally, I think this is one of those series that should be read in order. This seems to be the end of the "Rogues of the Republic", although Mr. Weekes has other books out.

The main character is a strong woman, former military turned thief. She's mouthy, clever, strong, great fighter--similar to Jim Rockford (Rockford Files TV show) but she gets beat up less. Her crew members each have different specialties that contribute to the success of the "caper". And there's humor throughout as well as danger and suspense.

I read through all three books in the series, and I was sad to see them end.

View all my reviews

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Missing Simile

Why doesn't anyone ever say "Cute as a zipper"?

Saturday, August 31, 2013

A Song for Closing

Sometimes, one must change up the routine to get the attention of perfectly fine, but busy people when the time comes to empty the building. One method for this is my "Poorman's Al Yankovik" Fair Use parody of some helpless, innocent song.

I submit for your consideration, "I Think We Are Closed, Now," wrenched from Tommy James and the Shondells' "I Think We're Alone Now," also covered in the 80's by Tiffany.

Print files or save!
That's what we say when we are closing
And don't let's delay
Let's close like we planned
And so we're checking out as fast as we can...
Giving to you a helping hand
Trying to get away into the night
And then you gather up your items and you wander to the door
And then we say, "I think we are closed, now
There doesn't seem to be anyone around.
"I think we are closed now,
The beating of our hearts is the only sound."

The song ends there, because when you're making closing motions, people really don't want a two or three minute radio ditty. About a minute is enough inflict on people without rousing their annoyance beyond having been interrupted in their task and being asked to leave in the first place.

Friday, January 25, 2013

Writing on writing: A short short


Writing on Writing
  When I took driver's ed, it was held at a near-by college campus. The driver's ed simulation room was near-by the freshman English composition classroom. On a bulletin board between the two rooms, students' one, two or three sentence works were posted. Some were amusing; some were "meh"; I assume for the sake of argument, some were horrible, but I can't remember any of those.
The one that I remember all these years down read like this: "A guy asked me for an aspirin. I gave him a Mydol."


My short short for this post is in the picture at left, transcribed below:

Some students, unwilling to revise their writing, seem to imagine themselves as some kind of Pontius Pilate of composition saying, “What I have written, I have written.” (cf. John 19:22)

Saturday, January 19, 2013

a table not next to the wood stove
I just posted a lie as a comment at a friend's posting request. He asked his Facebook friends to lie about how they met him. I am (much) more pleased with my lie than it deserves, so I thought I might inflict it on you as well--a kind of a "short-short" story. (You may hear an imperfect echo of a Marty Robbins song.)

We met...

Down in the West Texas town of El Paso, where I was drinking a Dr. Pepper.

You sat at a table placed next to the wood stove, and asked, "What do you think on a day like today?"

Thinking that this was the espionage pass phrase
I had been waiting for I answered thus, "Like the tide when the moon is leaving the seaside, your hair line, though dark is receding."

You started to jump up in umbrage proclaiming, "That is the rudest thing I've heard all day!"

Apprehending your meaning was not based in spying,
I tried to leave quietly, out the back door.

The waitress, though cute, had no patience with vagrants however they looked.
She brought a bouncer, bounced me back to the cashier. I was embarrassed and red.
This was not the unobtrusive meeting my handler had said.

And you were astonied, as they tossed me out, muttering, "I just bet he listens to old rock and roll five times a week if not daily!

We never saw each other again until, ironically, I was checking meal tickets and collecting lunch money at the serving line entrance in an El Cajon campus. Mostly unobtrusively, but without any espionage to keep me warm.