Super Funny Jokes Novels & Stories

Life’s so unfair, man. “What does a spoon matter when we’re literally stuck in the middle of the woods with invisible monsters, shady, bad men and whatever else creeps around here? Can you please, for once, use your brain and kick some sense in the gear?” He whisper-hisses, so red in the face, he reminds me of a tomato. “You could join a casting for vegetable commercials looking like this,” I remark and laugh at the brilliant joke my brain just reacted. Shit, am I not the funniest guy out there? Look at me - sense of humor, looks, body and an impressive spoon collection, I have it all, damn it. No wonder my little vixen couldn’t deny me.

I could easily imagine Suzane Johnson writhing in a strange laugh when listening to this, simply by hearing the little pig snoring she let out when she got excited about one of my worst jokes. It was strange not to be able to return the same intensity of animation, although just so that she could not understand anything, I tried hard, and imitated a rehearsed sound of what was once an ironic laugh. I've never been the kind of person who struggled to be funny. I've never had much talent to be the silly court of a circle of friends. But I had a certain reputation for being the one who never let herself be shaken by the misfortunes of life. I always had a joke on the tip of my tongue to make so

He looked confusedly at me “Wait…no way you think you think you’re a god, “ I said to be sure he wasn’t serious And if he was then this man might need some professional help with his ego “I’m kidding “ he laughed while I just started at him blankly “Oh come on. You have to admit that was good “ he nudged me “ you’ve only told a good joke once , hopefully that could increase “ I rolled my eyes “That’s a lie. I’m a naturally funny person, I’m good at telling jokes “ he argued “Yeah, bad jokes “ I sassed and he laughed “See that’s how to be funny. Not by telling weird, scary or just totally off….” I rambled “ yeah, blah blah blah. Just shut the fuck up and kiss me “ he cut me off, tightening hi

A message bubble lit up under his name, cheerful and oblivious. Just another one of his dry, stupid jokes—something about his dinner being so terrible he was convinced the restaurant was trying to assassinate him with undercooked chicken. He'd probably attached one of those ridiculous GIFs he was always finding, something animated and silly that was meant to make me laugh.

His arms tighten looking for my acceptance of his apology. "I understand. You're a man in demand. This is the part where you have to save the Internet by pressing buttons on your laptop, right?" Finn relaxes his grip a little at my joke. "Kind of, but I type fast. Some might even say I'm a speeding bullet." Even I catch his Superman reference and groan at the horribleness of it, but it's nice to hear one of his nerdy jokes again. Maybe nothing is wrong after all.

he wished there was more of it. And him? He’d been laughing lately but nothing like that. In fact.. he didn’t think he had ever laughed that hard in his entire life. And for that long .. nope that was for sure the first time he’d ever been laughing to the point he couldn’t speak. “Em are you like .. okay?” Sylvia asked carefully. “Oh yeah … I’m good. That was so fucking funny.,” she said. “Erm. What was so fucking funny?” Mickey asked.

Bradley Fry, my CEO husband, loves bringing his friends home for meals the most. He claims that this makes them feel like an actual family. As they drink in the feast I've whipped up for everyone, one of Bradley's friends comments smilingly, "I knew that you were a virtuous one, Emily! Now this is how the legitimate wife should act!" My expression doesn't falter as I ask in a half-joking manner, "Oh? Does Bradley have a spoiled and pampered mistress by his side, then?" His friends are stunned by my question. A trace of panic crosses their eyes simultaneously. But Bradley just wraps an arm around my shoulders with a smile. "Don't listen to their nonsense, Emily. Who else is worthy as my

“That was... something.” He didn’t even flinch. “Tough crowd,” he muttered under his breath. Tough crowd? Was this a boardroom or open mic night? --- Then came the coffee break. I’d barely made it to the break room when he cornered me with another one of his “brilliant” jokes. “What do you call a sad cup of coffee?” he asked, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. Against my better judgment, I played along. “What?” “A depresso.”

At least not him me; "Doesn't mean you should be scared, there's no scarecrow here or do you see any?" I laughed as he pointed his hands around the room in a bid to make his joke sound funnier. "Your jokes," I told him. "They've changed a lot." "I'll take that as a compliment," he said with a small smile."A compliment saying that I am funnier." "Well, yeah. That's it and I'm not going to deny it." We both burst into a round of laughter cause it felt good hearing jokes and reacting to it in the same way. I felt a bit relieved and it showed from the way I became relaxed all of a sudden.

He said this to me while stuttering and sweating profusely on his palm. I paused for a moment before smiling because I suddenly remembered an old joke. "What makes fowl so amusing?" Arthur arched his brow and couldn't come up with an answer. I cleared my throat and imitated how fowls make noise. "Becauseeeeee!!" I declared, making both of us laugh out loud.