As it's the season, we're giving stuff away free. Well, just the one bit of stuff. A shiny copy of Subtle Edens, featuring the story Overturned, by one Neil Ayres and Aliya Whiteley, to the person that leaves the best festive-related joke in the comments trail.
Oh, and the Tate Modern have an SF competition running. Here it is. Thanks to Jenni for the heads-up.
And the title of this post? I wondered if it's bring in a batch of new traffic.
Saturday, 20 December 2008
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4 comments:
God, you just can't give it away around here, can you?
OK, here's my offering:
'What's the most popular Christmas wine? 'I don't like Brussel sprouts'...'
It's definitely an auditory joke, doesn't quite work written down.
If you want one which doesn't suffer from being written down, how about:
The four stages of life: You believe in Santa Claus, you don't believe in Santa Claus, you become Santa Claus, you look like Santa Claus'
Personally, I'm worried about this last stage...
Have a great Christamas both of you.
Perhaps the problem is the category: Christmas Jokes. I delve through my memory and can't come up with any.
But console yourself that if I'd won it would require international postage.
This isn't a Christmas joke, but I'll tell it anyway, even though you've probably heard it, because it's Pam's favorite joke:
A man comes home to find his girlfriend in their bedroom packing her bags. "Why are you leaving me?" he demands. "Don't I buy you things, take care of you, support you...?"
"You're mean," she says. "You won't let me wear the clothes I want to wear, you won't go see the movies I want to see,you won't hang out with my friends, and on top of it all--I'm beginning to suspect that you're a pedophile!"
"Well!" he says. "Mighty big word for a nine-year-old."
Cripes.
I entered that 2058 thingie. Looks good.
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