Reading Humor Novels & Stories

“You’re being impossible. This is the same woman who’s been circling my life like a shark, and your big takeaway is that my best friend got a spa day? Really?” He chuckled quietly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Alright, I’ll stop. You’re right. It’s weird. But we’ve got other things coming up and a whole list of other fires to put out—literally and figuratively. Let’s deal with Dara after we survive the family circus, okay?” I exhaled slowly, the fight draining out of me even though I was still pissed. His humor was annoying as hell sometimes, but it was also the only thing keeping me from spiraling further.

I said suddenly curious Wyatt was still on the floor so Reed slowly made his way over to us. “Use me” He is all he said I turned to look straight at him, I imagined opening the door to his feelings. He was feeling pissed off, nervous, worried and a little hungry. Lets try humor since it is the opposite of what he is feeling right now. I imagined taking humor off a shelf and shoving it through the door. Reed broke out in a fit of laughter. He fell over on the ground holding his stomach laughing like a 3-year-old when you tickle them, that deep belly laugh.

heartfully, I thanked him, “It’s utterable… I am really grateful for this, it really means a lot to me.” “Reciprocate me then.” said Jamie. He then suddenly snorts and says, “Oh, I’m kidding again, you don’t have to take it seriously, you know, businessmen have horrible sense of humor. Not all, but maybe just me, I don’t know, I am always horrible at making people laugh since I was y-” “Tomorrow night.” However, before he could finish his words, I edged in. Because for me, I would rather that I take it seriously.

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.

I wished her luck with divining and then unwrapping that lady's mind. "I hold dear to my heart anyone's hunger to learn, honesty when it hurts and love no matter what the cost, so I find myself alone most of the time," Pamela grinned. "Above even those, I adore humor in the face of ridicule, condemnation and adversity. You can dodge bullets and parry knives. Humor always strikes home," she finished. "It is the perfect weapon." "Liar," I smiled. "You like high performance automobiles too." Did she? I didn't know.

“How profoundly clever. If this is your master strategy, you have truly lost your mind.” “You are correct. I have lost it,” I agree, moving a step closer and letting my voice drop. “I have lost the ability to stand by and watch you endure this. You deserve more than Brandon. You deserve more than this entire fucking disaster.” “Is that so? And you believe you are the solution? You? The man who treats everything like a punchline?” I offer a small shrug. “Humor is a reliable tool. It seemed to help last night, when you called me about your nightmare.”

Killian stayed beside me throughout, his hand in mine, his voice low and steady during the difficult stretches, cracking terrible jokes during the easier ones in a clear, deliberate attempt to keep me focused on something other than the increasingly insistent demands of active labor. "I read somewhere that humor during labor reduces perceived pain," he said, somewhere around hour four, his timing impeccable as always despite the obvious strain of watching me work through something he couldn't take from me however much he clearly wanted to. "Is that scientifically verified?" I managed, between contractions. "Thoroughly," he said, entirely inventing it on the spot. "Leading medical journals. M

She replied, quite caught off guard. However, Matt's laughter didn't help the situation as if it were even possible; her entire face became red. She couldn't understand what was so funny? Although, Harlow couldn't help but notice that his laugh was nothing like that when Matt laughed. The laugh was in his eyes, in the way his face changed into that vision of simple joy and unrestrained glee. Yet indeed, it wasn't in his face either. His laugh came from within; it was just the way he was wired. People like him have more flexible brains, like all that humour bubbling around in him was like yoga for the synapses. Just being around him for a few minutes was better than a whole day of self-absorb

Oh my god, I will punch him in the face if he does! “What is it?” I told him with nervousness living on my chest. “It is because women are always right.” He let go of his punchline and he laughed so hard after that as if he is the greatest comedian of all time. I just stared at him as if he is the weirdest thing on the Planet right now. He stopped laughing when he saw my not so pleased face, “oh, you don’t find that funny? What are you, a robot?”

“Uh…air. Just air.” He glanced up then, suspicious. “You’re strange.” “I get that a lot.” [System Tip: Try humor using self-deprecation. Humans find it relatable.] I sighed. “Dream, if I die under your management, tell my funeral guests I was killed by deadlines and your resting glare.” His fingers paused on the keyboard. One heartbeat. Two. Then, very faintly, almost inaudibly, he exhaled through his nose. [System Alert: Micro-laugh detected. Progress 75%.]