Posts Tagged ‘puns’

Or (what my mind thought): trunk-ated. 🙂

© janet m. webb

I thought I’d go with a reprise of something seasonal for this week.  I hope you enjoy it because if you don’t, it will cheese me off.  This one was from December 2012.


My first thought was someone at the end of life thinking of all the choices made, one inside each door.  However, something ran amok inside my head and what emerged was a riff on that idea.  Or maybe just riff-raff.  Who can say?

100_7262-1 copyright Rich Voza

The Big Cheese
The Gjetost of Christmas Past

His mind wandered.  So many choices throughout his life.  Not all perfect, but he was satisfied.  Head of Dewey, Cheatum and Howe, Attorneys-at-Law, (plural intentional but deceptive—no other power here), people averted their gazes when he passed, feared him.  Life was good!

A knock.


“A Mr. Gjetost to see you.”  Fat Tim, AKA“Tiny”, handed him a card, departing silently but for his limp.

What the dickens?  This guy’s a Norwegian cheese?  Ebenezeer scrutinized the card.  Mr. G. H. Ost.  Tim and names!  Wonder what this guy wants?

“Mr. Ost, how may I help you?”

“Au contraire, Mr. Skruge…”

He was going, but not too fast.

copyright janet m. webb 2016

On my way home today after a grand trip, albeit one with some experiences we hope never to repeat.  But as the saying goes: All’s well that ends well.  And this trip did, for which I’m very thankful.

I’ve been absent from Friday Fictioneers for a few weeks now, enjoying Christmas and New Years with family and friends and making another epic drive Sunday through Tuesday.  On the 9th, I head to Arizona to visit my parents and my brother and his family.   My parents don’t have internet (don’t need it if you don’t have a computer) and since all their connected neighbors are so crass as to have protected wi-fi, my access is limited to the time I spend at the library or a Starbucks.  It’s a mixed blessing–I miss being online and it’s a struggle to get through email, blog posts, etc. when I am online, but it’s an amazingly freeing experience as well.

As for this week, if the pun is truly the lowest form of humor, I’m well below the limbo level with my offering.  I could plead insanity, but why bother?  It will be all to clear to any of you reading beyond my intro!  And I cheerfully admit I enjoyed every minute of it.  I hope you find it a tree-t.

May 2014 be a blessed year for each of you, filled with joy, health and wonder.

tree-climbing-poppyPhoto courtesy of Rochelle’s daughter-in-law

Genre:  Humor (I hope.)

Not Just Another Old Chestnut

“What the devil, Sherlock?  Why do yew have a wooden replica of the Hound up there?”

“ Acorny story, Watson.  He started to bark at trees, then branched out to climbing them; just pined for them, couldn’t leaf them alone.   I wood quake like an aspen at first, but everything seemed oak-ay until he ran up this one..  He was rooted  in place, his fir stood up and he turned into the wooden statue you see here.  A shame, but he looks very spruce up there.  I guess olive with it.

“But how…?”

“Elmementary, my dear Watson.  It’s a dog-wood.”


I have to say that when choosing the right link-y thing code, I find it rather annoying to have to use the “non-dynamic” code. Really! Couldn’t they call it something less common-sounding?  Be that as it may, if you wish to read more stories, click on the blue guy.