Funny Things To Write On Whiteboard Novels & Stories

But no one talked about anything else, either. “Naomi,” Brenda said finally, “your chalkboards in the tech display are ridiculously cute.” Naomi looked up, startled. “Oh. Thanks.” “They remind me of those little café signs. You know, the ones with misspelled ‘mochas’ and heart doodles.” “That's what I was going for,” Naomi said with a small smile. “I thought it’d make customers linger longer.” “It worked,” Marcus added, nodding. “That woman in the red coat was standing there for ten minutes today. I think she took pictures.”

It was dusty from disuse but functional. I place it in the center of the room, grab a marker, and uncap it with a snap. The crisp, chemical scent of ink fills the air as I start writing, my hand moving with purpose. "Objectives. Obstacles. Potential Counters." I divide the board into sections, creating columns and rows with precise, sharp strokes. My thoughts spill out as I sketch diagrams, flowcharts, and timelines, every line a testament to my resolve.

“We do i‍t yo⁠ur way.” He w‍alked over to t‍he whiteboard, picked up a marker, a‌nd dre‍w a large, definit‍ive ci⁠rcle around‌ the word BA‍IT. It felt lik⁠e sig‍ning a death warrant. ⁠

“Pudding? That’s genius. Messy, but genius. You should add food coloring for that extra flair.” We kept going like that, trading silly ideas back and forth—escalating from pudding balloons to full-on prank wars involving fake spiders and whoopee cushions. It was light, fun, the kind of conversation that made the world feel a little less heavy. For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe. Ethan was drawing a quick sketch of his imagined “pudding apocalypse” on a scrap of paper, and I was adding details—a stick-figure sister running for cover—when I felt it.

Mia says , I rub my chin in contemplating , right now I couldn't think of anything wrong with that idea but I couldn't help a little tiny part of me that feels that whatever we are planning on doing is wrong. "Well, I think it's great, but I think we should ask our sober selves later on, "I say. I begin to for a piece of paper. We realized one day that we come up with dumb ideas when we are drunk so it has been a tradition to have a paper and pen on hand when we knew we were getting drunk. "ok found it , wrote it ,anything else?" I ask after I find a piece of paper and a pen and writing down 'us ruining his life 'on the note .

“So no, I will not be asking him for help. I’d rather fail math than be psychologically destroyed by one of his tutoring sessions.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re being a little dramatic.” “I’m being accurate,” Rain shot back, poking their head out of the blanket cocoon just long enough to glare at me. “You weren’t there. He had a whiteboard. A portable whiteboard. He brought it to my house. Who even owns a portable whiteboard?” “That’s... actually kind of impressive.” “It was a horror movie. He had diagrams. Flowcharts. He used a laser pointer at one point.”

Once they had all gathered, Ava included, I smiled as brightly as I could and held up a dry erase marker. “I was thinking we could try a fun exercise today,” I said, keeping my tone as light and airy as possible. “Each one of you will have three minutes to sketch a design on the whiteboard on the spot. Whoever has the best design at the end will get a prize.”

Mr Harper asked. "Let's see," Aiden said. "I will need a board," Ana said and everyone was surprised she was not holding a pen drive or a laptop like everyone else. The panel asked someone to bring a whiteboard and a marker. Ana closed her eyes and when she opened them she began with the presentation from memory. She went to the board and drew the supporting designs on the whiteboard. She illustrated how the whole plan would be executed by touching on the project plan. The panel was amazed by how she presented the whole thing from memory and was able to answer all the questions that were thrown at her. The people present marvelled at her level of intelligence.

While waiting on the whiteboard, I dug my phone out of my pocket and called Amy. “What’s up, Daisy?” She sounded cheerful. “Are you busy today?” I asked. “I’m starting a whiteboard and want to start questioning suspects.” “A whiteboard?” Amy sounded confused. “You know. It’s a dry-erase board, so I can diagram evidence to keep it straight in my mind,” I explained. “Oh, yeah,” Amy chirped. “I’ve seen them used on real-crime shows.”

I asked. “Hell yeah.” Sandra seemed relieved by the idea. I got up and poured us two very strong rum and coke from the small bar I had set up in the corner. A couple of hours passed while we worked diligently. We used the white board on my wall, scribbling down all the ideas that soared through our minds. Some of them weren’t even related to marketing, but they were just so good that we needed to write them down. All this time, while we were brainstorming, we were casually drinking lots of coke flavored rum. We both took off our suit jackets and got as comfortable as a work environment would allow us.