_{@NoNamesLeftToUse The Writer/Artist Himself is surprisingly still alive.}

But how long will it last?

When They Don't Get It

^{A small piece of me dies inside.}

I can still remember the first time I made a group of people laugh.

I'd say I was about five years old. My brother and I were playing in his bedroom while the adults were sitting around the table playing cards and drinking adult beverages. They were distracted, it was the mid 80's, and us kids could do whatever the hell we felt like doing.

Inside the forbidden closet was a long jacket. Gray in color. Inspector Gadget attire and that man, well; he just so happened to be my hero of the day.

I put that coat on, I walked out to the dining room, they all looked at me and probably thought, aw. What a cute kid.

I had a different plan though.

Before they had a chance to think and with that dance within my soft little man voice, I sang a line from the show's theme song.

^{Do do-do do-do Inspector Gadget}

Then I ripped open the coat and gave them all the suddenly unforgettable glance at my tiny little setup of cock and balls.

The Room Erupted

^{Drinks were spilled.}

My little face smiled at first but they could not control themselves. Laughing and laughing and laughing. My little mind did not know how to process that, I think I started to feel as if they were laughing at me and not with me so; I cried and ran away.

It was for the best though and I'm glad I grew up when I did because if that happened today I'd probably be in counselling and eating Ritalin disguised as marshmallows in my cereal every morning for breakfast.

~~~

They Didn't Teach Anyone How to be Funny in School

^{I guess they forgot?}

I think it was grade two.

The first time I ever wrote something funny was an accident.

We were all tasked with writing a short story. Mine didn't take long, I was finished, I handed it in to the teacher. Her body language reeked of don't bleeping talk to me now, I'm busy; so I made my way back to my seat near the window and started to imagine what it would be like if I could fly like those birds outside.

I was still soaring through the sky when I heard her first snort. I looked in her direction as my imaginary clouds began to fade. I saw a smile; a certain glow. She was still focused, reading, but everything about what she was saying without words to the rest of us now watching told me her day just became a whole lot brighter.

It Turns Out

^{That was my story she was reading.}

It was a story about a family of skunks messing with a family of people. It was supposed to be scary.

She gave me a good grade but unfortunately, I was not allowed to read that in front of the class like all of the other kids did with their stories.

I didn't really know what dark humor was even while she was attempting to explain it to me in the hallway. My parents told me all about how the skunks manage to produce that friendly aroma so of course I incorporated elements of that into the story.

---

_{So, basically, this family of people is tied up in their basement while papa skunk stands on their faces and shoots his "smelly pee that comes from his bum" directly into their nostrils. The people deserved it because they inadvertently destroyed the skunk family home to put in a swimming pool. Baby skunk couldn't swim and ended up drowning. You'd be mad, too. It was all a dream though. The man wakes up feeling frightened, rushes to the bedroom where his children sleep, then tells them they're not getting a swimming pool. They cry, and that's the end of the story.}

---

Hilarious!

^{Is socially unacceptable?}

That's something I learned in school.

In grade six we had some workbooks sitting on a rack, just for show. Some students would flip through them though, from time to time, and I was one of them. Inside was a fill-in-the-blank game that challenged the child to select verbs and nouns that fit the context of the story. The young rebellious version of me filled those blanks with obscenities and absurdities, then placed the book neatly back on the shelf. Nobody knew I did it.

A few weeks later, the teacher is handing one out to each student. I'm thinking, oh shit.

Moments later, one student is laughing as she's walking up to the teacher's desk. The teacher looks, she too starts laughing near instantly but then stops herself. I admitted to it so the other kids could go for recess. She told me it was funny but I shouldn't do things like that. I was punished for being funny, but I guess that was fair, because I wasn't supposed to write in those books.

In grade ten science class I was paired up with another student. We were given the topic of coal power and asked to do a report. We got up there in front of the class and did our best.

The teacher then had questions ready to ask and we were to answer those questions with no way of being prepared. She asked, "What kind of pollutants are released into the environment when coal is burned?" I proudly declared, "I'll field this one," as if this was some sort of a press conference. I intentionally placed a stone-cold serious look on my face, I looked at the students, then the teacher, then the students again and said, "Smoke."

The kids laughed, the teacher didn't. She frowned. My answer was a joke, it was part of the presentation. I wanted it to be fun, the teacher took me seriously and thought I was that dumb. She never gave me a chance to explain and that was her final question.

The report we did was terrible, our presentation sucked. The student I was paired up with received a passing grade of 51%, I was given a grade of 49% and she told me that answer of, "Smoke," was the reason I failed.

I didn't just fail the report though. I failed the entire class.

~~~

I Lost Friends

^{Because I was being funny.}

Hanging out with people was always fun. We'd laugh and have a great time.

Then came texting and smart phones.

Gone were the days of friendly conversation. I'd find myself sitting around tables, with friends, the drinks are flowing; silence. They were all glued to their damn phones. I suppose this was all before it was considered rude to be like that. Without their words offering up subtle cues that trigger my mind to say something funny, or even interesting, it felt like I wasn't there; until they had a picture of cat to show me.

So There I Was

^{Sitting around the campfire that night.}

I was visiting a good friend. A few of our other friends were there as well, along with his family and his girlfriend who I had met on one other occasion, briefly.

I was entertaining people with my drunken stupidity, having fun. Of course the friends were mainly glued to their screens, not really paying attention.

Nearly everything coming out of my mouth was making his girl laugh. She'd respond and give me even more to work with, then continue laughing. It went on like that for quite awhile until buddy scraped his brain away from the device for a few seconds to ask her, "How come I can't ever make you laugh like that?"

I quickly responded with, "Because you're not funny!"

I was joking, of course. I said that while his girl was taking a sip of her drink, she spit it out so she could laugh instead of choking on it, it all happened so fast; then he gets angry and starts telling me I'm not funny and that turned into him telling me all about every problem he's ever had with me for the past ten years or so. That verbal beating lasted a good ten to fifteen minutes and I then found myself walking home, alone, because I needed time to think.

We weren't friends any more after that incident.

I still laugh when I think about.

~~~

So To Keep a Short Story Long

^{After all that, and so much more...}

What would possess me to come to a place like this and attempt to be a humorist?

The headline says this will kill me, right?

It's only natural for me to laugh in the face of danger. I've been having so much fun. If I could, I'd do what I do here most days, for the rest of my days, until I die. That's what I meant. Hopefully you'll be doing what you enjoy until you die as well.

A bit later, also near the top I say, "When they don't get it, a small piece of me dies inside." It's true. I can't keep these inner crazies of mine all bottled up. I need a place to put it. These days, that's here, and you get it. You get to see it, you get to laugh, and hopefully have some fun along the way. I don't want to keep it all to myself. I don't mind sharing and I get to laugh as well. Win-win.

I wanted you all to have an idea of where I'm coming from.

^{Recent events inspired this whole thing.}

Yeah. It can be painful to watch. A tough pill to swallow.

I write something that's intended to be humorous and some take it seriously. Others make it painfully obvious they didn't even take a moment to actually read what I wrote before they leave a comment. That will always happen. My past proves some people just don't get it. It's not my fault, I try my best to avoid taking it personally, and really; a few mishaps like that here are nothing in comparison to what I've been through while bombing jokes in my past.

It's all good!
^{And thanks for putting up with me.}

Have a nice day.

Credits: _{All art and images seen here were produced digitally, by me. "I guess I could write something here as well."}

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