Humor Books & Stories Novels & Stories

“Need help? Or do you need someone to dramatically throw it out of the window for you?” I couldn’t help the small puff of laughter that escaped. “You’re not funny.” “I’m hilarious. You’re just too stressed to appreciate fine comedy,” he replied with a mock sigh. “So what’s got your brain twisted in knots? Is it the treaties? The histories? Please don’t say the battle strategies. Those gave me nightmares.” I looked at him, and smiled,he was trying to make me laugh, he must have noticed that I was stressed. There was humor in his voice, but his eyes were watching me carefully—soft, concerned, like he saw through the armor I thought I was still wearing.

One could never expect from him to be serious. "I am a straight man too." I asserted towards him, raising my voice with a poker face. "Who knows?" He voiced out which irritated me more. Oh Jesus Chirst, save him before I successfully murder him and his lame humor. "Can you just kill me?" I asked, frustratingly. "You should not be worrying, you know you will die anyway." He answered back. "What the fuck? I just can not make sense of, how the fuck you and your thick brain could think of such a lame humor." I asserted back to him.

This time he knew it had to be humor and she narrowed her gaze. “What is wrong with you. Why do you find humor when I’m being serious!” She said and he felt it a bit more, muscles in his face that didn’t know how to work tried. “Because it’s a foolish thing to say and you know it. You can think it if you want to, but you aren’t very good at saying no.” He told her leaning forward and she turned her head, but he just inhaled her scent an odd rumbled in his chest.

I used to think humiliation had a sound. Like glass breaking, or a car crash. Something loud and violent you could point to. I was wrong. Humiliation sounds like polite laughter. The kind that ripples through a rooftop party at 11:47 PM, when three hundred of Manhattan’s most connected people decide you’re the punchline. “Come on, Alina. Don’t act shocked.”

Asshole confirmation is complete. “I do have a unique sense of humor,” I snarl back at him. “It’s just not for rude people who think they can negatively summarize everything about a person just by looking at them.” He scoffs and silently stares at me for a moment. While I wait, thinking he is probably forming an apology for his rude, sarcastic sense of humor towards me. . . . he suddenly bursts into laughter. I recoil in shock at his response, but later on, his laughter eases me. The sound is so deep, and dimples indent both his cheeks as he continues laughing.

she protested. Avery grinned. "Well, you know what they say, laughter is the best medicine. And if that's the case, I think I just got a healthy dose of corny humor," he teased. Ida rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh at Avery's response. "Okay, fine, I admit it was a bit lame," she conceded. "But at least it made you smile, right?" "Absolutely," Avery replied. "And who knows, maybe I'll even remember it and tell it to someone else someday."

"He doesn't do any of that. I have warned you to mind the words you use!" I burst into laughter. "It's shocking that you haven't gotten used to Raya's sick humor by now," "She should stop making those stupid jokes. I hate it. Look at her, she makes jokes out of her condition even. Does it sound like something we should be laughing about?" Her voice cracked and she walked out on us. Raya sighed. "She gets like that all the damn time. It's annoying," "You should understand that she's only mad because she cares."

He told me pointedly, laughing at me like a clown. “You don’t mince words, do you?” I asked in a sarcastic tone, smirking at him. He laughed at me, obviously enjoying himself at my expense. I could already tell that we are going to be great friends in the future. I think I like his humor, I like the fact that he doesn’t try to please or displease anyone. He speaks the truth and damns the consequences. That’s the type of guy that’s the kind of people I love to have around me.

“You’ve attended royal parties as you mentioned and that makes you a better caliber than most of those socialites attending that annual event. Half of them can’t even waltz. But you, definitely know how to.” “And how did you know that?” she was beginning to be amused with his reasoning. “I guessed,” he stated matter-of-factly. Aurora laughed. It was a marvelous sound, he decided her amusement evident in her eyes. He was somewhat surprised; he was able to make her laugh. He was not a joking sort. He knew he’s got no sense of humor. He used to be regarded as humorless when he was still in Harvard. But hearing her laugh at his remark was indeed a pleasant surprise. His next statement however, s

One of the senior executives, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, added, “Maybe we should get Jerry to do all our presentations. At least then we’d be laughing through the pain.” Jerry leaned forward, adopting a more serious tone but still with a twinkle in his eye. “In all seriousness, folks, humor might not solve our problems, but it can definitely help us think more clearly. When you’re not bogged down by stress, you can see solutions you might have missed before.” The atmosphere in the room shifted noticeably. What had been a dire and despondent meeting was now infused with a lighter, more hopeful energy. People were exchanging ideas more freely, the initial doom and gloom replaced b