Tag Archives: Humour

A Man Walks Into a Bar

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I was sipping a drink, researching my latest Sam Smith mystery when a man walked into the bar. He looked distressed. 

“Quick,” he said to the barman, “I need a glass of water.”

With a quizzical look on his face, the barman poured water into a glass. The man grabbed the glass, gulped the water then ran to the rest room.

Two minutes later, the man returned, still looking distressed. “Nope,” he said, “that didn’t work. I’ll have a Bacardi and lemon.”

The man sipped his Bacardi then chewed on the lemon. With a pained expression on his face, he ran to the rest room only to return two minutes later.

“Nope,” he said, “that didn’t work either. I need a radical solution.”

Then, to gasps from the clientele, the man produced a gun and handed the weapon to the barman. “Shoot me,” the man said.

“You must be crazy,” the barman said. “I’m not touching that gun.”

“You, lady,” the man said to me, “shoot me.”

Of course, by now I’d twigged what was happening so, nonchalantly, I placed the gun in my hand. I raised my arm, pointed the barrel at the man’s head and eased my finger against the trigger. Before I could squeeze the trigger, the man sighed and walked out of the bar.

“Phew,” the barman said. “What was that all about?”

“Didn’t you notice?” I asked, sliding the gun across the bar. “The man had hiccups.” 😀

 

Sam’s Sunday Supplement #2

Welcome to Sam’s Sunday Supplement, #2, a weekly digest of news from Sam’s world.

This week I’ve been following Sam around the Vale of Glamorgan, a picturesque region of Wales. Chapters five to ten of Mind Games are largely set in the Vale, including two chapters set at Nash Point Lighthouse. The lighthouse was constructed in 1831, illuminated in 1832 and electrified in 1968. It holds the distinction of being the last manned lighthouse in Wales, before automation in 1998. I’m pleased to say that the writing is going well and that the book is on schedule for publication in June.
I came across this quote from Marcia Muller recently and I can identify with it in relation to Sam.
‘A professional writer’s life is not easy, no matter how high you climb on the best seller lists. For one thing, you work for yourself, and that self is the most demanding boss you’ve ever had. I don’t know about non fiction writers, but those of us who deal in fiction are never left alone by our characters. They haunt you, they tell you what to do. There are times when I feel my detective, Sharon McCone, is sitting on my shoulder, saying, “No, not that. Do this.” Usually she’s right. But I’m waiting for the day I’ll prove her wrong.’

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As you know, my books are based on serious subjects, but I like to insert some humour occasionally. Here are two pieces I posted on social media this week. Both received a terrific response 😃
Definitions from the dubious dictionary…Shinbone, a device for locating furniture in the dark.
How many authors does it take to change a lightbulb?
Ten.
One to change the lightbulb.
Five to say that they’d already thought of the idea for changing the lightbulb, but they didn’t want to go public with it yet.
Four to say that lightbulb changing is old hat and already covered by the literary greats.
Three to complain that with blogging, Twitter, Facebook, etc they have no time to change lightbulbs, but they’ll do it anyway.
Two to insist that old technology is best and that the lightbulb will never replace the candle.
And one to figure out that while authors are great with words they are lousy at mathamatics.

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I have joined Author Reach. More news of that in the future, but for now here is the link and an invitation to follow and join my mailing list.
http://hannah-howe.authorreach.com
Also, an invitation to connect with me on my new Facebook page.
https://facebook.com/HannahHoweSamsAuthor
More news next week and, as ever, thank you for your interest.

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Sam’s Humour

The Sam Smith Mystery Series combines a mystery with psychological and sociological aspects along with romance and humour. Here is an example of my sense of humour.

Bugatti

This morning, I turned to my partner and said, “My car won’t start; I think there’s water in the carburettor.”

“How do you know that?” he asked. “You don’t even know what the carburettor is.”

“I’m telling you,” I replied, “I’m sure there’s water in the carburettor.”

“We’ll see,” my partner sighed wearily. “Let me check it out. Where’s your car?”

“In the swimming pool,” I said.