Sensor Chips and Salsa

I’ve tried, I really have. It’s partly your fault. You encouraged it with your laughter. At the very least you acknowledged its presence and reacted in some way. I’m speaking of that nasty little tendency to say the most absurd thing at the most absurd time. Whether it be making that most untimely, unsavory joke that makes people a tad bit uncomfortable or saying something hilariously funny while you have the misfortune of being smack dab in the middle of consuming fluids, I do it! I’m the one who makes people laugh, chuckle, giggle snort or spit take. I’m trying to stop. I made a committed effort to seek therapy. I mean a half-hearted attempt at standup. Okay, fine… a weak attempt at an on the air joke contest. It didn’t work. I don’t tell jokes incredibly well, I don’t write “material”. I improvise, I riff. If I were a famous comedian I would be Robin Williams, but I don’t have nearly the fortitude to sustain that level of insanity/genius/ history of substance abuse. Instead I must lay this heavy burden on you my friends, relatives, neighbors, co-workers, the random person that just asked how to get to Carnegie Hall (practice baby practice), etc. You are being asked to tolerate my absurdity, try desperately not to laugh too hard at my jokes, or at least limit it to a slight chuckle that you mask with a cough. Without you, I don’t know if I can finally act my age, say the adult things, and not make people shoot Dr. Pepper through their nose. Is it too much to ask for your assistance in my time of need?

Screw it! After a few weeks I’d probably go off on a Linsey Lohan-esque binge, where I wrap my clown car around a candy pole, walk off muttering non-sequiturs, stumble into the local grocery store and start spouting off horrific puns as I head to the fabric care aisle in search of an irony board. See...you either chuckled or groaned and now I am forced to continue!