So, John Quixote made a comment that "I should be writing humour." And, being a stubborn individual, I took it upon myself to prove why I should NOT write humour, thus I have written this "humourous" article...
Hmmm. Well, now I'm not sure what to do. See, John only tells me these things when I'm either A) making fun of myself or B) making fun of him. Iguess I could try one of those options..:
Guess what! You're hideous!
Oh, I guess that didn't work? Too bad, I really thought Ihad something there. Here, let me try again:
Guess what! I'm hideous too!
This doesn't seem to be working. John, what were you thinking getting me into this deathtrap!?! I can't write humour! I'm not a funny person! I can only make fun of you! It's so easy!
I think all the times he's suggested I write humour, I really wasn't being humourous. I was just being truthful. It might surprise you, since a writer is basically a spinner of cleverly woven lies (sorry, did that offend someone? At least this isn't a site full of writers...), but I am a very truthful person. Excluding sarcasm. I obviously couldn't live without that, since that's what they breath where I live. But when I make fun of myself or explain some ridiculously foolish story from my past, chances are it's probably true. Examples?
I really did used to write things on my face instead of on my hands.
I really did see a soap opera where a pregnant lady was abducted by a man in a monkey-clown costume.
I really don't write horror, so I probably never will write about your reflection.
And you probably thought I just made all that up because, clearly, I'm so clever....Well, no. I really do these things. See, now it doesn't seem so funny. Now, maybe it's hilarious.
But I don't make up funny things. They just happen. And I tell them to you and cleverly decieve you into thinking that I'm actually witty. Maybe Ijust have a particularly funny life. Or maybeI'm just used to laughing at normal things.Whatever the reason (my heart or my shoes), the truth is I'm really not a very funny person. I admit it. I tricked you. Get over it.
And PS: I might be hideous, but I'll never be as hideous as you.
PPS: Before I get nasty letters asking "Why would you write on your face? You can't even see your own face!"and "Why don't Ihave a waterbuffalo?" and "what do your shoes or your heart have to do with anything?" and "why would Iask you why I don't have a waterbuffalo?" I'm going to answer all of these very concisely now:
"Why would you write on your face? You can't even see your own face!"
Correction: YOU cannot see your own face and you have NO IDEA what powers I have!
"Why don't I have a waterbuffalo?"
The same reason you cannot see your own face.
"What do your shoes or your heart have to do with anything?"
You obviously don't read enough Dr. Seuss. "Whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes, he stood on Mount Krumpet hating the Whos"
"Why would Iask you why I don't have a waterbuffalo?"
Because we all have a right to the truth? You wanted to blame me for your problems? Just guessing.
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