7 Apr

I’m back after a hiatus spent writing a book: GLEE-MAIL (Over 300 Funny e-Mail Messages for All Occasions). It’s pretty much what the title says, but for my first blog back, I’m going to give you the Introduction, plus a sample message from the Christmas category.


Does this SCENARIO sound familiar:
You just remembered you owe [FRIEND] or [RELATIVE] a greeting card. You begrudgingly fight traffic as you drive to the drugstore, walk the three greeting card aisles until you find the category you’re looking for, pick a card and read it, put it back, pick another card and read it, put it back, etc., until you find the right one (overpriced at $6.95!), stand in a long line to buy it, then drive back home (more #%$&@! traffic) – only to realize you should have picked that other card you passed on! [TIME: 1 – 2 hours].

Compare that to GLEE-MAIL:
CLICK on the appropriate Occasion. Scan the e-greetings. Pick the one you like and type it into an e-mail. Hit “SEND”. [TIME: 1 – 2 minutes].

Oh no! You just realized you should have picked that other message! No problem: repeat the above easy GLEE-MAIL procedure and SEND it too. [In the SUBJECT line this time, type: “P.S.” or “Take Two” or “Bonus Greeting”]

Oh no! You forgot someone’s birthday! No problem: CLICK on “BELATED BIRTHDAY” and voila! there’s the remedy.

With GLEE-MAIL you’ll never sweat if you’re running late and “owe” someone a greeting card. In fact, you’ll never have to go through the above SCENARIO and buy another greeting card. Once and for all, GLEE-MAIL makes the greeting “card” process Quick – Easy – and Fun!

Think about how much time you spend buying, writing, and mailing holiday cards. With GLEE-MAIL, you can polish off your entire Christmas card / or Hanukkah card list in a few minutes. And there’s enough e-greetings in each category to last year after year after year.

Most important, your friends and relatives will have a GOOD LAUGH, and get the message that YOU CARE. (And you may even find you have enough extra time on your hands to go visit them.)

Best news of all: For the price of ONE greeting card, you now have over 300 e-greetings at your disposal.

Here’s wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
And if you’re Jewish: Happy Hanukkah!
And if you’re Atheist: Happy Nothingness!

Over the ensuing weeks, I’ll be posting more GLEE-MAIL excerpts and an occasional SERIOUS COMEDY entry. Stay tuned.




21 Oct


My daily Twitter blog (140 characters to those of you in the Stone Age) has 3 followers –coincidentally, the same 3 people who follow my WordPress blog. In my likely vain attempt to raise my total followers to 4, over the next few weeks, while I continue to write my next book (details to come later) I am bunching up my Twits and posting them in my weekly WordPress blog, to prevent atrophy. Fortunately for me, my Twits fall within my WP theme, SERIOUS COMEDY. To wit, my first installment:

7-6-13  My very first tweet. Sweet. How neat. What a treat. I’m off my feet. I had something important to say but I’m out of characters so it’s going to be incompl


7-14-13  Two places there’s always room: “at the top” and “for improvement”.

7-15-13  You can lead a horse to water… but the snorkeling fins won’t fit.

7-17-13  I saw a homeless guy begging on the street. I gave him a dollar. He pulls out a form and asks if I want to sign up for his Rewards Program.

7-17-13  HOMELESS PART II : Luckily I read the fine print. After you’ve paid him $5, he gives you a dead squirrel.

7-18-13  A favorite one-liner: Did you hear about the cowboy who was so dumb, other cowboys noticed?

7-19-13  You hear people brag they’re “part Indian” – and it’s always “Cherokee!” Never Sioux or Crow. Will somebody please tell me, when did the Cherokee become the gourmet Indians?

7-20-13  Whenever I see a fully able person pull into a handicap space and hop out of their car, I have to resist the urge to yell out, “Hey, at least fake a bum leg!”


I hope you’ve been somewhat amused. If so, please tell someone and help me reach a grand total of 4 followers. Muchos danke. 


14 Oct




In case you’ve been wondering what happened to my weekly humor blog, the answer is I’m taking time off to write e-Book #3 [Shameless Plug: to complement e-Book #1, Brilliant Answers for Everyday Questions & e-Book #2, Killer Voicemail; available on].


When I can, I will write short paragraph blogs – but please don’t hold your breath (unless there is a contest going where you can win some money doing that).


Until the final draft, stay cool, all three of you!





28 Aug


(short story)

On a typical business day, 40-year-old Sy Nikyur can usually be found ungainfully self-employed somewhere in New York City. With his urbane countenance and carriage, Sy is at first mistaken for an upwardly mobile, highly competitive corporate executive. In reality, Sy Nikyur is a professional floater.

Sy has been independently wealthy since birth from a multi-billion dollar inheritance, and has never needed to earn a weekly paycheck. But not needing work has never stopped him from occasionally trying to put in a day’s work at a corporation where he does not work.


Infinite wealth has its own set of problems, and Sy’s biggest dilemma had always been a feeling of irreconcilable distance between himself and others—like a cog that didn’t fit in any machine. Were it his way, he’d simply be a part of the 9 to 5 upper- or even middle-income crowd.

 Sy was so well known, thanks to Google, corporate employers never took him seriously the many times he applied for middle management positions. So after countless polite rejections, Sy decided to bypass the job application/interview process altogether and simply began showing up wherever he figured it would be a nice place to work.

 Sometimes it worked and for the few hours while he worked before he was found out, Sy was a contented cog in the daily grind.


Unlike many of the shabbily-dressed, derelict contemporaries in his chosen floater profession, inertly mobile Sy was always looking to improve his nonexistent station in the corporate world.

On Labor Day, he took a room at the Stardirt Hotel in New Jersey and toiled for a month, trying to perfect the famous “illegible business signature”. He finally got it down pat after many hours of practice with a Pollenex vibrator attached to his wrist.

 Early on the morning of September 31, Sy donned his best Armani suit and tie, took a cab to midtown Manhattan and entered the first high-rise office building he came to. Sy chivalrously held the door of the crowded elevator for a breathless, hell-bent-for-timeclock secretary, then selected a floor at random.

 He cheerfully bid adieu to his fellow passengers, then bounded out of the elevator, whistling merrily as he strolled down the busy corridor and passed through the first open doorway along his arbitrary path. The expansive room was bustling with typists, secretaries, stenographers and file clerks. When Sy spied a vacant desk in one corner, heaped with papers, he crossed over and sat down. He loosened his tie, glanced briefly at a triangular block of wood labeled “Purchasing”, then took a gold Montblanc pen out of his coat pocket. With an air of urgency and concern, he began scrawling his dexterously indecipherable signature on various invoices. All work around him came to an abrupt halt as Sy became the focal point of nearly everyone in his section of the room.

 With a ? shrug, the nearest secretary hesitantly approached. “Excuse me, sir,” she said cautiously, “but, uh… you don’t work here.”

“Oh?” Sy blinked. “Then I must work somewhere else.” He adjusted his tie, re-pocketed his pen and left.



In the next ten buildings Sy entered that day, he was civilly asked to leave two; perfunctorily shown the door to five; and rudely bounced by Security out of three. All in all, for Sy Nikur, it was a very exiting day.





13 Aug



Raise your hand if you remember the cyanide-infected Tylenol scare back in 1982. The upshot of that, as most of you with your hands up know, was the TPS (tamper-proof seal) – friend of the paranoid and overcautious; enemy of many a bent or broken fingernail.

Reason I’m bringing this up, these TPS’s are so commonplace you don’t even think about them anymore – or at least I didn’t until I recently bought a jug of Clorox bleach. Potent stuff, I’m sure you know. I dilute it with water and use it to sanitize my tub and toilet. Or pour it straight up on my driveway (highly effective weed killer, if you didn’t know). Relatives overstaying their welcome? Leave the cap off a bottle of Clorox hidden under the guest bathroom sink. They’ll make excuses and be gone by end of day.

Anyway, when I removed the cap to pour some into a bucket, I was shocked to find a TPS. “What the…???” I thought TPS’s were to prevent sick individuals from slipping poison into products you drink or ingest. But Clorox? It’s already pretty much lethal if you were to merely inhale it. I guess the prevailing corporate theory is, “We need a tamper-proof seal because, if someone were to poison a jug and then you accidentally drank it, you’d be twice as dead!”

OLD JOKE (but I couldn’t resist)…
Q: What’s the difference between a live wife and a dead wife?
A: The sex is the same, but the dishes pile up.



5 Aug



Psychiatrists go to school and study intensively for six or more years. Waste of time. I could teach them all they need to know in about 60 seconds and 5 easy steps:

1. Have your patient sit down, or recline on the couch, and talk about what is bothering them.

2. When they pause, ask them: “And how did that make you feel?”

3. Nod your head knowingly as they reply.

4. Let them talk some more, then interrupt to ask, “And how did that make you feel?” Repeat as necessary: “And how did that make you feel?” Nod knowingly.

5. After 55 minutes, look at your watch and say, “Your time’s up, see you next week.”

Bring in your next patient: “And how did that make you feel?” Nod knowingly. “And how did that make you feel?” Nod knowingly… and soon you are rich.



30 Jul



My 80-year-old aunt informed me that she belongs to a one-of-a-kind senior citizen theater troupe. Besides talent, two other membership requirements are you’re retired and over 65. These old codgers (as my aunt fondly refers to them) take it quite seriously; they rehearse three times a week for about a month; then perform the play in front of packed audiences over one or two weekends.

She called today and proudly told me about her latest role. After we hung up, I couldn’t help but wonder… What do you say to a senior citizen, just before they go onstage? “Break a hip!”

On a similar note… How do the truly handicapped ever find a place to park, with all the perfectly healthy – plus supremely self-centered, inconceivably insensate, and just plain lazy – people who finagled handicap stickers, taking their spots? Do you get the feeling bad breath qualifies you for a sticker these days?

Whenever I see a fully able person pull into a handicap space and hop out of their car all full of self-importance – which is minimum twice a day – I love to call out, “Hey, at least fake a bum leg!”

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