Deep Thoughts Humor Novels & Stories

“She's starting to make jokes now.” “I was always funny,” I shot back. “You just weren’t paying attention.” Juno giggled from across the room. “You’re one of the most serious people I know, Thea. I think the last time you tried to tell a joke, it was about F. Scott Fitzgerald.” The brothers and Juno all laughed, but it wasn’t mean-spirited. It was gentle, teasing. Easy. “Hey!” I protested. “There’s lots of humor to be found in classic literature. Just look at Shakespeare! He’s full of excellent jokes.”

Everyone says that. "Because it's true. The precision. The way you let thinking do the emotional work. The humor inside the serious exterior." He tilted his head. "He made a patent law joke through a letter board three weeks post-stroke. You solved your own unmapped methodology problem by talking it through calmly. Same mechanism." "Different domains." "Same people."

Liam had an uncanny ability to infuse laughter and light-heartedness into any situation. His jokes, witty remarks, and playful banter seemed to dissolve the weariness of the physical work we were engaged in. The repetitive strokes of the paintbrush and the meticulous care required to refurbish the furniture might have been tiring, but Liam's humor was a refreshing reprieve. It kept us going, and his ability to make even mundane tasks feel like fun was a testament to his infectious spirit.

He yelped but only heard the dead end of it, since the call was hanged up, with a loud sound of laughter. "What the heck she meant by a human?" His phone buzzed with a new message sign; the second he read it, his eyes popped out of his sockets aghast at his sister's cruelty towards him. *Please note the sarcasm* The message read as:- “I bet on Derek's Switzerland collection of perfumes, that you are still wondering my statement, then let me clarify you that you behave more like a programmed Terminator rather than a human😂😂😂😋😋😋😋.”

Jon admits. “You know what? I don’t either.” I open my eyes, looking around the dark room. I can’t see Jon, and even if I roll over and look him in the eyes, his expression will be hard to read. It doesn’t make sense, but there’s something safe about the dark. It hides the truth, and sometimes the truth hurts. “I say things like that with sarcasm and dark humor, but it’s not really funny, is it?” “Sometimes you laugh so you don’t cry.”

“Jesse, my man, which is why I’m encouraging you to talk some more! It doesn’t have to be about anything life changing. If you were me I’d say crack a joke but I don’t know if you even know any jokes.” “I know jokes.” His face lit up. “Oh yes? Tell me one then.” “Can you guess what the therapist said when I told my therapist I’m scared of dying alone? “Uh, no what?” “He said, “Most people don’t die with the company,” I said, chuckling. “Get it?” Rain looked at Matt. “Matt, am I supposed to laugh at that?” “Ideally someone is supposed to laugh when they tell a joke,” Matt said with a sigh. “Jesse, what have I told you about your morbid jokes?”

It's not quarrelling, but debate of the kind you get from the types that think they know the secrets of the universe, or they can put the world to rights by talking about it. "Interesting place," I comment, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. Her lips make that quirk again; a sort of half-smile that would make the Mona Lisa long to be more subtle with her body language. She chooses a table by the window, speaking in a low voice. Humour dances at the corners of her eyes. "It's always interesting. Some of them can be quite profound. Some of them wouldn't know their ass from their elbow. But there's always cheap entertainment to be had here for the price of a coffee."

he said, picturing Valor with a flamethrower that he probably couldn’t even hold, let alone use efficiently. Sush’s index finger up and his animal sat, recognizing as the cue that she was about to make a point. “I don’t inject, Your Grace. I extract. Humor is always there. The ones who can’t find it are either lacking in creativity, mindful about not offending someone, or they’re mourning a loss. Otherwise, like happiness and sadness, amusement can be found in everything. It’s just a matter of perspective.” After reading her file, she was the last person he’d expected to be able to find humor in any - let alone every - situation.

“Jay. Don’t you dare laugh. I’m being serious.” “I know, I know,” I wheezed, still holding back a grin. “It’s just you have no idea how funny you look right now, like your brain’s trying to reboot itself.” But under the humor, my chest hurt. Because I didn’t have an answer. Not a real one. Not one that would make sense to him or to me.

That joke was spot on. "Terrific. Laugh it up. Using jokes as a means of closing off topics you don't feel the need to discuss don't work on me. What did you do?" His voice was more steady this time. "I didn't do anything, maybe it's your guilty conscience for all the terrible things you've done that makes you think this way, always imagining the shadows lurking around, you're not at peace with yourself. That's what you're looking for anyone else but yourself, I'd call you an over thinker but that's too good. I didn't do anything."