I was shopping today and a can of tuna was up to $2.79. Totally not worth it… tuna hasn’t even tasted right since they took the dolphin taste out. That’s an old joke. I wrote that back in first-year journalism school for my humour column. Not the price though, the price is real.
I used to write a humour column. Not really funny “haha”, more sardonic and full of hate and anger. People who know these kind of things told me humour was the hardest writing discipline… then they handed me my award (insert bow w/flourish here).
I always found writing my column fairly easy… it sounds cringe worthy but writing is all about the words because the words set the tone. Once you figure out “tone” you can write in almost any style… and if you want to be paid to write you have to know tones.
I don’t find humour particularly easy anymore. In the four years since I started my recovery I’ve only been able to write since November, 2006, but only regularly since last August. And not much of Salted is made up of stuff I’d consider funny… plus I didn’t even start laughing again until just a few months ago.
I tried to get back into writing humour last year with posts called “Totally Inappropriate Salted Humour Day”, but they were basically serious posts with a funny YouTube at the top.
I’ve recently started trying to write humour again with my Salted Shambhala photo blog. It feels right so far.
I just wanted to write something about laughing and humour tonight. I’ve been wanting to do that here for a little while… even though I didn’t really know that’s what I wanted to do.
I figured it out while looking at a blog called “WhiteCoat Rants”, he writes about the American medical system from the inside and recently he wrote a post asking for humour submissions on the doctor / patient relationship.
If you’ve got any, let him have them. It’s a good blog for your blogroll as well.
So I was trying to remember anything funny from my numerous trips to the emergency room… which I couldn’t, and I happened to find Big Daddy Tazz doing his standup routine on television. BDT is a Canadian comic who also has a big case of The Bipolars. The last third of his regular routine is on manic depression and suicide… very funny stuff.
So I figured I’d write a post about stuff I thought was funny… and ask for stuff you think is funny in return.
So here’s some of the stuff I think is just freaking FUN.knee…
Fun. Knee. Stuff
Blazing Saddles; GhostBusters; The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes’ Smarter Brother; Phil The Alien; The Philadelphia Story; Knocked Up; Super Troopers; Fast Times at Ridgemont High; The Americanization Of Emily
1. My dick is so big it was overthrown by a military coup. It’s now known as the Democratic Republic of My Dick.
2. My dick is so big it has its own dick. And even my dick’s dick is bigger than your dick.
Tina Fey; Justin Moharb; Colin Ferguson; Seth Meyers, Jim Carrey; my younger brother; Richard Pryor; Gene Wilder; Brett Butler
A Funny Story:
Back in the early 90’s I used to spend my nights and early mornings walking around The Market, which is the Clubland and homeless-shelter district of downtown Ottawa. You do that enough times and you’ll see some crazy stuff. One night in the middle of winter I was walking down an alleyway into The Market from the main street (Rideau). Two high-end cars loaded down with skis pull up in front of a bar across the street from me. It’s late, and the bars are closed so I stop to see what happens.
From fairly deep in the alley I watch four guys pile out of the first car, and they’re pissed. Three of them yelling and swearing at the driver, he’s swearing at them. The driver pulled four sets of skis off his car and threw them to the ground while his buddies were cursing him out. Then he tossed a bunch of bags out of the trunk. Finally the driver got back in the car and took off, his tires throwing snow everywhere.
The guys in the second car are snickering and joking around while one of them and all the first car guys pick up their equipment and stack it against the front of the bar. Driver of the second car says “well I can’t take everyone home”. So while he and his passengers straighten out their skis the three guys left from the first carload start banging on the door of the bar.
Door finally opens and they beg the cleaner to use the phone for a cab. So the three dudes, laughing and joking and calling their friend an asshole, walk into the bar to warm up and call a cab. A few minutes later the second carload of guys take off.
I’m just about to walk out of the alleyway, and I’m trying to decide if I should take the skis and hide them somewhere. In my head it just does not sound like a good idea. But… I’m back in the alley because someone is walking down the street. It’s a dude walking to the Salvation Army just down the street.
Dude walks past the bar and does a double-take when he sees the skis. But keeps walking… slower, but still walking. Then, halfway to the Salvation Army he stops and walks back, his head whipping around looking into the shadows. He stands beside the skis, gives one more look and then picks them all up. Poles included.
I watched him run down the block… with the skis askew in his arms he looked like a giant asterisk. I don’t know where he went because my attention went back to the door of the bar. I waited there for another five minutes until the cab showed up. When the dudes came out they looked for their skis… and figured the second driver had taken them.
Then they got into the cab and drove off. I have no idea what dude ever did with them, or what he could have done with them… but I guess it’s better to have an armful of skis and find out you can’t fence them, than it is to not have an armful of skis and hear someone say “damn… I wish I had some skis right now.”