So, I’ve been trying to write a post about the tragic subject of “what makes something funny”. This of course is one of the worst, most painful, and terribly unfunny possible topics ever dreamed; so, obviously I can’t stop myself from trying and beating my head against my head. I actually got so far as to post my entry (and I believe two lucky readers out there actually read it–my sincerest apologies) before I decided to delete it moments later and start typing the words you are reading right now. So, instead of sharing my original post with you and losing your readership for all eternity, I will share what I will term the “middle-lights” in no particular order and without regard for coherence:
“I know… you saw that coming. Therefore it wasn’t funny; eat poop.”
“The first thing to notice is whether people laughed or threw things at you. Both are good!”
“If things get stuck between the brain/mouth section or the mouth/outside section there is little chance your pearl of funny will be adequately received by anyone except yourself, and your only remaining hope is to pray that the process of getting stuck in one of these sections causes loss of balance, extreme facial contortions and gas.”
“In case this reaction fails you, try slipping on a banana, or stepping over a banana into a manhole–the classics. Remember: always have plenty of bananas and manholes at your disposal.”
“If the item weighs more than thirty pounds and is worth less than thirty dollars, you weren’t that funny.”
“If the item is alive (like a lobster, potted plant, or small child) take a moment to consider whether you’re hungry, or want kids (or both)– the potted plant was probably just in the room and easy to throw (you weren’t that funny).”
“If people laughed at what you said, you were probably funny; unless the person is related to you, sleeps with you, is trying to sleep with you, is trying to be related to you, is related to someone who sleeps with you, is related to someone who is trying to sleep with you, is related to someone who is trying to be related to you, is trying to be related to someone who sleeps with you, or any other permutations of this criteria that could possibly have any significance.”
“Always have plenty of things to throw at people. Hey, it works for professionals like Gallagher, and his brother, Gallagher, so why wouldn’t it work for you?”
“Under no circumstances should you ever throw a banana or manhole! Stay focused here!”
“That’s like Batman throwing away the rubber costume– now he’s just a rich dorky guy with normal nipples. What’s his backup plan? The Robin suit? I don’t think so! No one takes a sidekick that seriously; and besides, now some trash picker is running around saying cool things like: “Have you ever danced with the devil by the pale moon light?” and “I am… BATMAN!” and “Check out these nipples, bitch!”. In other words, unless you want your audience to have nicer nipples than you, hold onto the bananas and manholes!”
“That sentence is probably illegal in most states.”
“The next time someone asks you “what makes something funny” you can tell them this: ‘A person’s ability to think something and then say it out loud in a semi-coherent fashion (or get stuck in the middle of saying it, gas up, and slip on a banana/fall into a manhole, etc.) that elicits laughter from a person that has nothing to gain from laughing, or elicits the throwing of valuable items (like lobsters and babies, but not potted plants) at that person.’”
“If the person remains confused, eat poop, show them your nipples, and punch them.”
“‘Till next time… POW, BANG, BOOM, YOWZA!”
And with that, I’m hoping this topic will leave my traumatized mind forever!
‘Till next time (this is the “real” sign-off)… PRAY FOR ME!
I guess I just come from simple folk but it makes me wonder what the world is coming to when a bunch of long haired yahoos go around peeing on the first law of comedy. Why just the other day I came upon my sainted mother in tears because someone had told her that the name of the player on first was “Who,” not to be confused with the interrogative pronoun who. It’s criminal I tell ya.