Posted by Esri Allbritten
I have a guest blog post at Must Read Mysteries today. The topic is Death and Comedy, and it ends with one of my favorite jokes. As an appetizer for that, here’s another of my faves.
A guy starts to develop black spots on his penis. Naturally, he’s concerned, so he goes to see a doctor. The doctor takes one look and says, “I’m very sorry, but you have Chinese Black Gonorrhea, and we’re going to have to amputate your penis.”
The guy is stunned. “You’ll understand if I get a second opinion.”
The doctor nods. “Of course, but any other doctor will tell you the same thing.”
So the guy gets a second opinion, and a third, but both of those doctors tell him the same thing. His penis will have to be amputated.
He goes out drinking with his best friend and tells him the news.They sit in glum silence for a while.
Finally his friend says, “They call it Chinese Black Gonorrhea, right?”
“Yeah,” the guy says.
“Then why don’t you go to China and see a doctor there? Maybe they know a treatment that hasn’t made it to the States yet!”
“That’s a great idea!” the guy says.
So he books a plane ticket and visits a well-respected Chinese doctor who speaks English. The Chinese doctor makes a thorough exam, runs some tests, and finally comes back in. “It’s Chinese Black Gonorrhea, all right.”
“So is there any treatment?” the guy asks. “Because in America, all the doctors tell me that I have to have my penis amputated.”
The Chinese doctor breaks into laughter. “Those American doctors! What a bunch of quacks!”
The guy feels hope for the first time. “Are you telling me I don’t have to have my penis amputated?”
“Nah,” the doctor says, waving a hand. “It’ll fall off by itself.”
Thank you, you’ve been a great audience! I hope you enjoy the second act, now appearing at Must Read Mysteries!
Posted by Esri Allbritten
It occurred to me that I’ve never heard a mystery-writer joke, so I made this one up.
During a publishing conference, a mystery writer, a romance author, and a thriller writer get to talking and decide to have a drink together at the hotel bar.
The romance writer orders a Sex on the Beach.
The thriller writer asks for a Bloody Mary.
The bartender makes those drinks and then asks the mystery writer what she wants.
The mystery writer looks the bartender in the eye and says, “Muddle a slice each of lime, lemon and orange with one clove. Add a shot of British gin, a dash of French absinthe, and crushed ice. Shake well, and strain everything into a martini glass. Stab a cherry with a toothpick and plop that on top.”
The romance writer makes a face. “That doesn’t sound very tasty. What do you call it?”
I’ll tell you what,” the mystery writer says, smiling. “If either of you can guess the name of this cocktail before the bartender finishes making it, I’ll buy all your drinks tonight.”
“We can do this,” the thriller writer says confidently.
So they try to guess the name of the bizarre drink while watching the bartender make it.
“It has British gin and French absinthe,” the romance writer says. “I’d call it the International Lover.”
“Nope,” says the mystery writer.
“Think about how she described it,” the thriller writer says. “Crushed ice, a stabbed cherry… It’s probably something like Death in the Glass or Murder by Booze.”
“Wrong track entirely,” says the mystery writer. “Keep guessing.”
So they keep throwing out names until the drink is finished and the bartender drops in the stabbed cherry.
The thriller writer shakes his head. “I give up. What’s it called?” He turns to find that the mystery writer has vanished.
The romance writer looks at the bartender, “Hey, where’d she go?”
The bartender puts the weird cocktail on the bar. “I don’t know, but she finished both your drinks while you were guessing, and somebody owes me twenty-five bucks.”