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the Tom Weekly |
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an online magazine |
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Departments ************ The thinking person's background music. Click a link, below, to hear clips of our own little in-house band: "The Editors" |
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Are you interested in an online magazine? Are you looking for freelance writers, writings, articles, commentary, e-myths, essays, almanacs, short stories, weekly columns, or columnists? What about humor or humorists? How about satire, satirists, comedy, humor, a funny story, politics, or political critiques? Does miscellaneous writer stuff interest you? Are you looking in the Cleveland, Ohio area? Copyright © 2006-2008, T.E.P. Your use of this site constitutes your acceptance of the © Copyright 2006-2008, theTomWeekly.com, All Rights Reserved. |
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Editors' pick: our featured up-and-coming writer. |
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I dropped him off at rehearsal. Homeless. Oh, that won't help you get better--I'm just mad at my neighbor. Lucky. I'm TALKING to the duck. That was TERRIBLE! C'mon in. It's not our regular drummer! Only one, but the bulb must really want to be changed. She can't find her key, and she doesn't know when to come in. So St. Peter says, "Oh, what instrument did you play?" Know it?--I wrote it! Oh, I GOT gamblin' money. A Rabbi should go out on a night like this!? That was $5000 extra for the CAT scan. A mind is a terrible thing to lose. Can you watch Steve? That's the way you sang it last night! Why the long face? Hair lip! What's time to a pig? A pig that smart, you don't eat all at once. What heaven? I'm a bull in Wisconsin. He tasted funny. Sparky, get out from underneath that table before she poops on you! He stops biting me. You don't have to cry about it. Dad, you better look under the bed--somebody's either comin' or goin'! So I bought her a scale. The Aristocrats. Ok, he's dead. Now what? I use de spoon. Aeennhh, I make a decent living. That's the beer that made Milt Famy walk us! But doesn't his suit look nice? I took a mulligan. Make me One with everything. A Certificate Of Deposit eventually matures. |
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Classic Joke Punch Lines So, two ducks walk into a bar . . . |