You’re Joking, Right?

I’ve been doing this Daily Post thing lately. It’s been a welcome diversion. It keeps my guilt at bay while I continue to put off completing the novel everyone asks me about.

“How’s the novel going Phil?”

“Great, writing every day!”

“When do I finally get to read it?”

“Well, uh, actually I’ve been working on some other stuff. Some new ideas and sketches for my second and third novels.” (Translation: I’ve been writing a bunch of disjointed, half-assed streams of consciousness that basically boil down to mental masturbation.)

But hey, at least I’m writing. That’s what I do. It keeps me off the street and it’s a helluva lot better than…well, I don’t know what it’s better than. It’s just what I do.

Speaking of what I do… I procrastinate. Oh, I already touched on that. Yeah, I remember…I’m writing a daily post with the keyword “Joke”. Since I don’t remember any good jokes, I think I’ll broaden the topic to humor. Funny thing about humor (dammit, no pun intended). There are so many different kinds of humor. I guess one’s sense of humor has some type of correlation with their personality type.  If that’s true, I’m one sick bastard. I’m one of those guys that never fully matured past the age of twelve. People that fall down crack me up. I even laugh when I fall down. Not long ago, I was crossing a grass median with an arm load of groceries (beer and frozen pizza). The median, about ten yards wide, separated a busy boulevard.  It was rush hour with bumper to bumper traffic, so I had a large audience. I ran across the south bound lanes, hitting the grass at a dead run with both arms wrapped around my grocery bag. About two strides in, I stepped into a metal ring hiding in the grass. The metal ring, about the diameter of a lamp shade, somehow got around both my ankles, effectively causing me to face plant on top of the bag of groceries. Believe me when I tell you. Falling face down, full force, with a twelve pack of beer against your gut is not pleasant. I still laugh when I picture the horrified looks on the faces of the people sitting in their cars. What did I do? Well after my breathing returned, I rolled over on my back and laughed uncontrollably. I continued to laugh the rest of the way back home. I’m sure I scared quite a few people as I dodged traffic, laughing like a schizoid hyena. What struck me most is that I saw no one laughing at my fall. Hell, if I saw someone take a spill like I did, I would have wrecked my car laughing. What can I say? Like my ex used to tell me, I’m twelve.

As long as I’m sharing, another thing I find hilarious is someone puking. I don’t know why, but I find hurling hilarious. You ever find yourself in a serious situation where it’s highly inappropriate to laugh but you can’t control it? It’s horrible. Many nights I’ve had to play the concerned, sensitive guy that holds his drunken date’s hair while she hurls. Little did she know that Sir Galahad was standing behind her laughing like the little kid in the cafeteria who snorts milk through his nose while trying to stifle a laugh. What’s wrong with me?

And inappropriate farts, forget about it. I remember a final history exam in college. A guy in front of me cut such a reverberous fart, I was rendered incapable of finishing the test. I literally had to turn in a tear stained, half-finished exam.

Sometimes I wish I had a normal person’s sense of humor. I know many people that watch sit-coms on TV and howl with laughter. While I do get an occasional belly laugh from canned humor, most of it leaves me cold.  It must be an adult thing, I don’t know.

Many people tell me I’m a funny guy, but I don’t tell jokes in the traditional sense. I simply can’t remember them. I love a good joke and know several people that seem to be human joke machines. They can go on for hours telling corny-ass jokes and stories for hours. I listen to them, crack up, and vow to remember them, but alas, I never do. I do remember personal stories however, and have a million of those. I’ve lived a pretty magical life when it comes to crazy adventures, and I’ve been blessed with many unforgettable characters that have come and gone. The older I get, the more friends I lose.  In the past year, I’ve lost way too many friends to the grim reaper.  They still live on in my memory and I hope to introduce them as characters in future writing. Dammit, I’m digressing again.

Hey did you hear the one about…. Ah, fuck it.

Daily Post Keyword:Joke

About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
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5 Responses to You’re Joking, Right?

  1. Love the ending, haha “ah, fuck it”


  2. sheenmeem says:

    My (late) husband would laugh his head off while watching wrestling, while I would be concerned about the under dog.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Paula Light says:

    People say I’m funny, and that’s all about situational wordplay. I’m terrible at remembering jokes.


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