James wrote a book

High school student James is in first period. The teacher isn’t there on time. A few minutes passed, and she still hasn’t arrived yet. James kinda figured, while the teacher was away, he ought to keep writing his novel he’s been working on, about cats. James’ dream is to become a big shot writer with the desire to have a best-seller. He’s written and sent in books before, but no luck. He’s tried written short stories, children’s stories, poems, and even a few attempted novels. However, none of those were considered good enough to publish.

However, this next story that he has planned, he figures it’s gonna be HUGE. It’s the story about a runaway cat, told from a first-person view of the cat himself. The cat is supposedly trying to figure out how to return home, and how to survive. After giving it much thought, and after receiving the feedback from the other failed attempts, he decided to put his all into his book. It’ll be a smash hit.

After about fifteen minutes, the teacher finally shows up to first period. The teacher apologizes, “Sorry, I’m late. My dumbass boyfriend doesn’t know how to properly set an alarm clock.” Upon hearing those words, a light bulb suddenly went off in James’ head. Boyfriend… clock… that’s it! That’s the perfect story!

During class, he decided to try and take notes as to the concept of the book in itself. So far, he has the idea of a guy falling in love with an analog clock, something about how digital clocks are about to go outdated, and that he feels nostalgic by them and doesn’t want them to fade away… that’s what he’s come up with so far. Yeah. A story about a guy that has a sexual relationship with an analog clock.

It’s a strange story, he knows, but he feels it’s quite an original story, to the point where it will definitely put him over the top, WAY more than his cat story he’s been working on. Once he gets home, he puts way more time and effort coming up with the characters, the plot details, and so on and so forth. Finally, by the time he has to go to sleep, he’s already completed two chapters.

A few weeks later, he’s already completed the book. He’s so excited about what he’s written, where he feels like a big shot. He feels this will definitely be the book that brings him to success. It’s well-written, has great structure, and he feels that he wrote the main character enough to where you’d actually empathize with his romantic relationship about the clock, and why exactly he wanted to marry the clock in the first place. He titles the book “Holding Hands”.

He sends it in to the first publishing company. A few days later, he gets a call, saying that it was one of the worst things they’ve ever read. Feeling distraught by this, he decides to try again with a different publishing company. However, a few weeks later, he’s given the exact same statement, that it was terrible. He tries over and over again, but nothing really seems to happen.

Finally, he decides to give it one last shot. One more publishing company, and if they reject it, he’ll scrap the book entirely and possibly resume the cat story that he originally had his eyes on. He sends it in, and… no one contacts him. Days later, not a word. Weeks pass, months. A few years, even. By this point, James has already graduated high school and went to college for writing. His cat story was also rejected, but hopefully he’ll be able to write a masterpiece once he graduates and gets his degree.

By now, he’s also married and has a child on the way. Suddenly, out of the blue, his phone rings. He couldn’t believe it. It was the publishing company from a few years back! He answers the phone. “Hello?” A woman answers, “Hello, is this James?” He affirms. She says to him, “I’m just calling to let you know that we’ve recently read your book you sent us, “Holding Hands”.”
He says, “Yeah. It’s about fucking time.”

——-

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Atheist and holy man playing golf

An atheist and a holy man are playing golf. The atheist misses his first shot and curses.

“Damn!”

The holy man winces. “I really don’t think you should say things like that.”

“Oh, stop being such a square,” says the atheist.

They keep playing, and a little later, the atheist misses another shot.

“God damn it, I missed again!”

The holy man tries to admonish the atheist again, but to no avail.

“God really doesn’t like people who speak against him, you know.”

But the atheist dismisses the holy man’s words, and the two keep playing.
Then, the atheist misses a third time.

“GOD DAMN IT! I missed again. And don’t you start about your God! Fuck God, anyway, he’s a piece of shit!”

And, at that moment, a bolt of lightning struck the holy man, and he fell dead on the spot.
Then, a voice spoke amid rolling thunder.

“Fuckin’ shitballs, I missed the Goddamn bastard.”

“““““

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American politician and an Indian minister

An American politician invites an Indian minister to his home. The American politician shows the Indian minister his Rolls Royce. “Beautiful isn’t it?” He asks the minister.

“Hmm, Yes it is”

“Wanna know how I could afford to buy it?” the American politician points in a direction “You see that bridge over there? 5% of its building funds went into my pockets”
The minister just nods.

A few weeks later, the minister invites the American politician to his home for a party. Upon reaching the minister’s home, the American politician was surprised at how grand it was. It was a royal-looking mansion.

He asks the minister, “Where did you get the money to buy it from?”

The minister takes him outside and points in a direction and says

“You see that bridge over there?”

The American politician replies “No”

“““““

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A large woman wearing a sleeveless sun dress

A large woman wearing a sleeveless sun dress walked into a pub in England. She raised her right arm revealing a huge, hairy armpit as she pointed to all the people sitting at the bar and asked, “What man here will buy a lady a drink?

The bar went silent as the patrons tried to ignore her. But down at the end of the bar, a bleary-eyed drunk slammed his hand down on the counter and bellowed, “Give the ballerina a drink!

The bartender poured the drink and the woman chugged it down. She turned to the patrons and again pointed around at all of them revealing the same hairy armpit and asked, “What man here will buy a lady a drink?

Once again, the same little drunk slapped his money down on the bar and said, “Give the ballerina another drink!”

The bartender approached the little drunk and said, “I say, old chap, it’s none of my business if you want to buy the lady a drink, but why do you keep calling her ‘the ballerina’ ?”
The drunk replied, “Any woman who can lift her leg that high has got to be a ballerina.”

“““““

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