Ha....

Well the response to yesterday’s post confirmed something I had suspected for a long time.

You people like the funny stuff.

(Hmmm, ‘You people.’ Is that racist? Am I ‘profiling’ you by saying that? Who knows? More importantly, who cares?)

Basically, I’ve discovered my average reader has a lot in common with my mother. After I’ve posted a carefully worded diatribe on copyright law, religion or philosophy, she’ll say “That’s all well and good, but when are you going to write something funny again?”

Now, what I’d like to do is cast myself in the ‘tortured artist’ role. You’re all the ‘uninformed masses’, who swallow my throwaway ‘funny’ posts with great glee, yet fail to truly comprehend my important works.

In other words, I’m Paul Sheldon from Misery. You’re all Annie Wilkes. I’ve written something I’m proud of, and you hobble me with a sledgehammer and drug me until I write another trashy novel.

Basically, I’m great, you’re dumb. I WIN!

Unfortunately, the truth has nothing to do with that.

I’m humorly-challenged.

Here’s the deal. People who know me say I’m funny. If I’m relaxing with a group of friends I’m as funny as a dog on a treadmill... but if I actually try to be funny…I’m about as amusing as the holocaust.

In fact, forget that…it’s much worse.

I’m as unfunny as a circus clown…and almost as creepy.

It’s like I have a bad cruise ship comedian living in my head. If I’m not trying to be funny, he’ll ignore what’s going on. The second I actually try to be funny, he elbows me out of the way and starts ‘cracking wise’.

“Funny? Ya want funny? I’m your guy for that! Take my wife, please! Everyone! ‘There was a young man from Nantucket…”

You know the type of thing I’m talking about. My brain houses the kind of comedian who thinks “I flew in from Denver, and boy are my arms tired!” is actually funny. I don’t even mean my brain-comedian thinks that it’s funny ironically. He just thinks it’s actually funny.

So, what does this mean for you, my readers?

If I sit at my computer and say “Ok, I’m going to write a funny post.” What you actually end up with is the “Christmas Cracker Joke” style of funny.

You want Dave Chappelle funny, and end up with: “What’s green and goes camping? A boy sprout.”

“But yesterday’s post was funny!” I hear you cry.

Well, that wasn’t me trying to be funny. That was me relaying a humorous event. There is a difference. Trying to be funny is a creative thing. With yesterday’s story, the funny has already occurred and I just had to write it down.

The simple truth is that if you can think of a dog trying to eat a too-hot un-shelled boiled egg and not laugh, you have absolutely no sense of humor anyway.

Which brings me to my second handicap:

I’m British. Therefore, I find two things funny:

1) Sarcasm
2) People hurting themselves

So as you can see, I don’t have the chance to simply relay humorous things on a very regular basis. If I did, my posts would be along the lines of:

Today I saw this fat dude fall over! It ruled!

Or I could post a picture of Lindsay Lohan and write a caption that reads “Hey, look at this fat bitch! I think she needs to go on a diet!”

As a classic example of the things I find funny, today I was sitting at my computer, attempting to make a realistic farting noise using only my mouth, without ‘cheating’ by using the standard ‘raspberry’. I did one that sounding like a very wet fart…and giggled for 15 minutes.

Would you find a post centered purely around my attempts at ass-gas audio synthesis? Probably not.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I’m simply not funny.