“My printer printed off blank pages. Is my printer out of ink, or do I just have nothing to say?”

“It’s 3:33 am as I’m writing this down on loose sheets of printer paper. I’m in the back office sitting behind the manager’s desk, just enjoying the good life. In essence, this job enables me to be a real writer, because here I am writing, and getting paid to do it.”

“My grandma came over yesterday, and I had just jumped out of the shower, so I answered the door in my towel. I know it was a little indecent, but I didn’t have time to dry off and change out of my wetsuit.”

“I have a recognition dance, to acknowledge that I heard and understood you. So when Savannah says she loves me, and I reply by doing the Charleston, I’m just trying to show my love for her.”

“They say there are 7 billion people on earth. I don't know what accountant came up with that number, but in my humble opinion, they might have been off by at least a dozen. You see, my and my friends were hiding during the count.”

“When someone is talking about their job, and they turn to me and ask me what I do, I stare off into space, let my eyes glaze over, and wistfully say, “I often wonder what I’m doing.”

“If the ink of my writing morphed into ants, would they march along with my thoughts? Would they find my work as enjoyable as a picnic? If the answer is no, I wouldn’t hesitate to stomp all over my writing.”