SNYDERMANIA: A Christmas Comic, News on THE-EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON, and a Christmas Joke

Sunday, December 4, 2011

A Christmas Comic, News on THE-EIGHT-FINGERED CRIMINAL'S SON, and a Christmas Joke

It's that time of year again. I posted this comic last year, but what the heck, maybe it will be funny this time around.

Did I mention that I wrote a book called The Eight-Fingered Criminal's Son? You can download the e-book by clicking on this link: http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4
I should have some news on the print version soon.

A Christmas joke: Did you hear that Scrooge's team won the football game? Yeah, the Ghost of Chritmas passed.

5 comments:

Susan R. Mills said...: Thanks for the laugh this morning.; December 5, 2011 at 6:21 AM
Midlife Roadtripper said...: Oh, I forgot in the midst of life, that I was reading your book on my Kindle. Will get back to it. So far, I'm enjoying it and highly recommend it to all your readers. Most fun.; December 5, 2011 at 6:25 AM
#167 Dad said...: Susan,
Glad to be of service. The students in my classroom look at me like they want to put cigars out in my ear when I tell them bad jokes...; December 10, 2011 at 7:12 PM
#167 Dad said...: Thanks for the good book mojo, MJ.; December 10, 2011 at 7:13 PM
Unknown said...: The ghost of Christmas passed, eh? And did Tiny Tim Tebow say "God bless us every one?"

Merry Christmas, Bill.; December 16, 2011 at 6:53 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?