(Cap’n John would very much like to give this kid a grocery cart enema, just for general principles…hey, Apron Brain, you already put the lady’s stuff in a paper bag, so why ask her NOW? Geez…sorry.)
I was sitting at my desk (in my underwear, as always…I write better in lingerie) this afternoon, doing some editing on a post I had written earlier, before I had gone to work. Given that being employed at Publix’ Supermarkets as a “Front End Clerk”, such as I am, part-time of course, so I take nothing away from my duties as the Captain and Master of the R U Kidding, kills an average of 72,000,156 brain cells per hour, I like to do my “creative work” prior to going in, when I’m a little smarter.
Anyway, I was re-reading my post from this morning (“ADVICE FOR THOSE WHO AREN’T GETTING ANY (AND I DON’T MEAN ADVICE”) 11/10/17), and, since I had already forgotten some (a lot) of what I had said previously, it was like reading something that someone else had written, new and fresh, and, I’m sorry, but like Dizzy Dean once said, it ain’t bragging if you can do it, pretty damn funny.
I was laughing out loud, staring intently at my monitor, like a cat waiting at the mouse’s door, dreaming of dinner, when suddenly it hit me, making me laugh even harder.
Even if NOBODY else ever read a word of what I’ve written, even if I had had no expectation of anyone EVER reading my stuff, even if I absolutely KNEW no one else would ever read it, ever…
…I’d still write it and post it, and then read it myself.
I think I’m hysterical.
Remember what Diz said (see above).
I really already sort of knew this previously, that I enjoy my own work and that I am probably my own #1 fan…I’m not sure if that makes me a) a narcissistic asshole, b) WAY more naïve than I should be at my age or c) just fucked up. (By applause, how many of you went right to c), with no hesitation?) But I hadn’t ever really thought about it in quite the blunt terms that I did earlier today.
Yeah, I’m a pretty funny guy. (Just so we don’t lose perspective here, God still had His little joke with me, ha-ha-ha, you Jerk…with a face/shape like mine, you’d BETTER be funny or you’re going to be a very lonely person.)
I’m still really, really glad when someone “likes” something I’ve written…hey, I have an ego, I’m not a unique or anything like that, come on.
“Yes, First Mate Taffie…”
“It’s pronounced how?”
“Oh, okay, I’ll fix that. Thanks.” (“Bitch.”)
Excuse me, that was my First Mate, Taffie McWetzel…she does an instantaneous edit of what I write (mostly as a “spell-check”, but also to keep me from seriously stepping on my johnson) and just informed me that the word I wanted (see above) is “eunuch”. (I hope you’re happy now…no fruit cup for you tonight, missy. And once again, a tip of the hat to the incomparable Mel Brooks, a man who knows a little bit about inducing laughter.)
Ego and all that other shit notwithstanding, yeah, I like making people laugh…it is my raison d’etre, believe me. (I think that’s Latin for “Hoochi, Momma, full blast and top down, baby”…I’m pretty sure it is.)
It’s just that the first person I make laugh will always be me.
Love and Goldmund, (wrong title, see below)
Post Script…and some Carly.