Patrick A. McGuire, Bloggonian
For years I told jokes on street corners for tips, dreaming of one day owning a granite counter top. No luck, so I entered a monastery. I now do stand-up at daily prayer services. The monks' vow of silence means they can't laugh. I can't even laugh, although sometimes I sob quietly in the can. This blog is a cry for help. Send money or granite. I accept Pay Pal.
Category Archives: The human comedy
Infrequently Asked Questions
If a guy named Charles Wood is called “Woodchuck” by his friends, how long before he gets it? When Johns Hopkins was a boy, did his friends call him Jacks? Why is f*rt a socially taboo word but you can … Continue reading
Posted in F.A.Q., News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy
Tagged F.A.Q., humor, satire
4 Comments
Fish story No. 1
Our man is invited on an all-expenses paid fishing trip to the deepest reaches of northwestern Ontario. Exclusive lodge in the middle of nowhere, accessible only by float plane. Four star accommodations including maid service in actual buildings—no tents, no … Continue reading
No soup for you
Katherine has just made gazpacho, the soup you don’t blow on. She says “Do you like gazpacho?” I reply “Well…” Katherine says “Well what?” Hesitantly, I venture “Um…” She says “Are you afraid that if you say no, you’ll hurt … Continue reading
Posted in Absurd and/or zany, News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy
Tagged funny, humor, Katherine, story
10 Comments
What goes around…
I have been asked to say a few words about all the insanity that’s happening around the world and in our own country and state and city and village and street and backyard and dining room and the little room … Continue reading
Doctor, Doctor, Mister M.D.
Your annual checkup is two months away. You remember the last checkup. Doc comes in, apologizes for making you wait an hour in your underwear. Through chattering teeth you say no puh-puh-problem. I walk around like this all the tuh-tuh-tuh … Continue reading
The discombobulation incident
Back then, the boy with the thick flowing hair of youth would leave home on the odd Saturday morning, and frown his way down the hill and around the bend to where Patsy the barber had been lowering ears since … Continue reading
Oh manhole, my manhole
It’s not much of a street, just an old country short cut wedged in between two busy state highways. There’s a large dip about halfway along the road where it runs past an unlikely post office set up in a … Continue reading
a hint of light 