Reading Humor Novels & Stories

It didn't necessarily have to be based on height, beards and body stature, but as long as one improved in knowledge and had the better understanding of what the world considered for him, then he was good to go. "As arrogant as his father!" he sneered at me, dropping his hands by his side and then clenching them into fists, glaring at me with an angered face. "Oh please! Don't bring the dead weak man into this" I said. "So you did know he was weak!" He asked hysterically, laughing as the room was quiet. I guess his joke was more boring than the word itself. I wish his humour was humorous enough, but they lacked the contents which made it really less of what he wanted it to be.

’ Although he was doing his best, he could not quite hide the minute spasm at the corner of his mouth. Well, that was a relief. If not actually kicking, his sense of humour was at least alive and twitching. On the other hand, if he’d been behaving like what she and Kate called a BHP - for boring, humourless prat - she would begin to go off him, which might be no bad thing. A man could be rolling in dosh and dishy as you like, kind to old ladies and even a ten on the Richter Scale kisser, but without a sense of humour he was about as much use to Claudia as a 32A bra.

She consoled herself with that idea. Over the last few months, she realized that he has a dark sense of humor. As they both work in business, there are a lot of things they can talk about. Mostly, she would come to him with a news about another corporation or organization. They rarely engage in topics outside of their career. He would use sarcasm when talking about the mistakes other companies have made and would predict a slew of dark things if they don’t get their shit together. She hasn’t found what tickles his funny bone yet. She would see him smiling, slightly, on any given day. But he rarely laughs. Okay, scratch that. He usually laughs at her in the bedroom, to tease her.

He was always making stupid jokes, even at the worst times. “That’s not funny,” I snapped. “There are people’s lives we are talking about, the pack members are counting on us and also the alpha, it’s only a matter of time until people start moving out of the pack,” I said, although I was also considering that in case things went sideways. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, raising his hands. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, you know, humor is a coping mechanism.” “Well, it’s not working,” I said, rolling my eyes.

The day before the high school reunion, the queen bee who'd bullied me for three years suddenly posted a video in the group chat. In the video, my 220-pound high school self was locked inside a bathroom, with a piece of paper stuck to the back of my uniform that read: [No Food for Pigs] The group chat instantly erupted. [Holy shit, she's coming to the reunion?] [Do you think the hotel chairs can hold her?] [After all these years, she can't possibly still be so fat she won't even fit through the door, right?] Naomi White, the queen bee who'd led the bullying back then, tagged me. [Old friend, everyone wants to see you. You have to come to the reunion this time.] Soon, someone started

“What happened to your sense of humor? I thought vacations were supposed to make people relaxed.” “You know damn well it wasn’t a vacation. And even if it had been, I’d still be tense after leaving the pack in your hands.” I smirked when his expression soured. “See? My humor’s intact.” “That wasn’t funny,” he said dryly. “Doesn’t matter. I think I’m hilarious.” “I pity Alina for having to spend her life with you. Your jokes will be the death of her.” “Oh, please. Don’t bring her up.”

Bright and early the next day, I showed up at the office as usual. I ignored the whispers and stares, and made a beeline for my desk to start clearing it out. That was when Lily waltzed over, oozing fake sympathy. "Janice, can't you take a joke? "Come on, it was just a little toilet cleaning. Why'd you have to go and tell Mr. Hoffman you're quitting? No need to blow things out of proportion. "Look, I'll even dip into my own wallet and toss you a little extra cash to make up for it.

She said that and I started dying on the floor, that was probably the funniest thing I've ever heard. "That is the fucking stoner spectrum!! Either you're a fucking Einstein or a fucking retard that tried to play baseball with a robot," I said, laughing through my words, causing Alex to break too, laughing and pointing out how fucked up my sense of humor is, "It's not my fault! Imagine having a fucked up humor before going through the dungeons of hell to become an arch-demon." "Tha-That's fair but still, that's fucked!" "Fuck me, that was funny," I said and the look I got from Alex scared the fuck outta me, she looked hungry but also cautious, "You good?"

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.

' I say mentally. However, what I say, although it calms him down, doesn't make him feel embarrassed or angry, but rather, he laughs. And he doesn't laugh coldly, but, a genuine laugh, the kind you can't fake. Showing me that he does feel. That he can be happy. "I've never heard a joke as good as this one, wife. You should be a humorist," Helmut says wiping away a tear that escaped his eyes from laughing so hard. "What joke are you talking about?"