The Evolution of Humor, or, My Life as reflected in Favorite Jokes

Kindergarten

Me: Guess what?
You: What?
Me: That's what!

I made that one up, aren't I funny? I have since learned that there is a Delmarva version of this joke -

Me: Guess what?
You: What?
Me: Chicken Butt!

Of course in kindergarten there was also this classic -

Me: I can make you talk Indian Talk.
You: How?


First Grade

Me: You come over Here and sit Down.

For some reason, I equated this "joke" with getting away with cursing. It was told with gestures: pointing at 'you', then motioning for 'here' and then pointing 'down', which meant...H-E-double toothpicks (heeheehee). So naughty!


Fourth Grade

Me: What's the difference between a bike?
You: Let's just insert the sound of chirping crickets here. You have no idea what I'm talking about.
Me: An orange, because it's round!
You: That's supposed to be funny?
Me: Hahahahahahahahahahaha!



Sixth Grade

Me: Two elephants were sitting in a bathtub. One elephant says, "Where's the soap?" The other one replies, "No soap, radio!"
You: Haha?

This is the joke where you have more than one person in on the telling, and they agree to laugh with you when you deliver the punch line. The punch line that makes no sense. So the 'mark' feels like they should laugh, even though they don;t understand what's funny. Yup, it's mean and it's been going around for years and years.


Ninth Grade

Question: What do you get when you cross a gondolier with Helen Keller?
Answer: A Venetian Blind.

I actually made this one up. If you've ever heard this joke, you have me to thank. Or blame. Yup.


Tenth Grade

The Flagpole Sitter

A guy is sitting at the top of a flagpole. He tapes a note to the top and starts to laugh. The more he laughs, the more the pole sways. The more the pole sways, the more he laughs. It gets to the point that he is laughing so hard and the pole is swaying so much that he can't hold onto it any longer; he lets go and is sent flying through the air, then hits the ground with a splat. Dead. So one of the guys watching this just has to know what could be so funny on that note taped to the top of the flagpole. He shinnies up the pole, reaches the top, reads the note and starts to laugh. The more he laughs the more the pole sways; the more the pole sways, the more he laughs. Finally he is laughing so hard and the pole is swaying so much that he can't hold on any longer; he lets go and is sent flying through the air, then hits the ground with a splat. Another guy dead! Well, yet another guy is watching and he can't believe what's happening, so he REALLY has to know what the hell is so funny at the top of that flagpole. He gets to the top, reads the note and starts to laugh. The more he laughs, the more the pole sways and the more the pole sways, the more he laughs. Finally he is laughing so hard and the flagpole is swaying so much that he can't hold on any longer; he lets go and is sent flying through the air, then hits the ground with a splat. Dead! Another one! Well the next guy on the ground absolutely can't believe what's happening. He shinnies up the pole, etc., etc.

This joke/story actually has no ending. It just goes on and on and on and on...ad nauseum. Seriously, if you have the stamina you can keep it going for hours. It can be embellished however you like. The king of this joke was a kid I grew up with named Eddie Patrick. We just thought the whole thing was hysterically funny, no matter how many times he told it. Probably had something to do with our illegal recreational activities at the time.

In my 20's

Me: Why do you wrap a gerbil in duct tape?
You: WTF?
Me: So when you f**k it, it doesn't explode.

I include this to indicate how messed up I was in the '80's. How embarrassing. A grotesque and shocking joke, unless maybe you're a teenage boy. Obviously I was looking for attention, especially the kind you get when you make people uncomfortable. There were other, even worse jokes I told back then...this is mild in comparison. The good news - I'm not that person anymore. Thank God.

In my 30's

A panda walks into a bar and orders a sandwich. The waiter brings him the sandwich. The panda eats it, pulls out a pistol, kills the waiter, gets up and starts to walk out the door.

The bartender yells for him to stop. the panda asks, "What do you want?" The bartender replies, "You come in here, order food, kill my waiter, then try to leave without paying for your meal."

The panda turns around and says, "Hey! I'm a Panda. Look it up!" So the bartender goes to the back room and looks up 'panda bear' in the encyclopedia. The passage read, "Panda: a bear-like marsupial originating in Asia. Known largely for its stark black and white coloring. Eats shoots and leaves."

This is one of my favorite jokes of all time. Very clever!


In my 40's

Me: If you're an American in the kitchen, what are you in the bathroom?
You: Um, what?
Me: European!

This one is from my ex brother-in-law, Todd, on whom I can count for good, clean jokes. I like my jokes clean nowadays.


The most recent joke I made up

So, a Bassett Hound walks into a bar, and the bartender says, "Why the long face?"

I crack myself up.


Yesterday

Me: Knock, Knock.
Kathy: Who's there?
Me: Smell mop.
Kathy: Smell mop who?
Me: You just said, 'smell my poo!'


Hmmm, on second thought, the evolution of humor? Not so much. Which to me, makes it even funnier.

Before I Forget

I ate dinner with Mom and PJ this evening. After Mom went in to get ready for bed, PJ and I were sitting on the livingroom couch, watching the US Open.



Me: So did you use your Neti Pot* yet?



PJ: No, not on me, but I used it on Journey (and for those of you who know my sister, you know Journey is her youngest dog).



Me: What?? Did it work?



PJ: Well it went in one nostril and came out the other.



Me: You need to try it. On yourself.



PJ: Have you been using it?



Me: Yup.



PJ: Do you feel any different since you've been using it?



Me: Yeah, I think so. I think it helped get rid of my cold pretty fast.



PJ: Doesn't it go down your throat?



Me: If it does, then you have your head tilted too far back. It should just go in one nostril and come out the other.



PJ: Ew, ew, ew!



Me: Well, you did it to Journey...



PJ, laughing like a crazy person: I didn't do it to Journey! I can't believe you would believe that!



I was laughing so hard I was crying. So was she. What a hoot. But that's not the point of this story. The point, of course, is SHE LIED TO ME.



*Neti Pot - a small teapot-like vessel used to rinse out your sinus cavity by allowing water to flow in through one nostril and out through the other.

Calls for a Boycott?

PJ has threatened me, sniff, sniff. She says I need to keep this blog name, and she will actually organize a boycott of the other blog, you know, http://mysisterhasthebestsisterintheworld.blogspot.com/

So it appears that she is trying to turn me into a schizophrenic blogger. Oh the pain, the pain...the pain being, PJ! Hahaha.

With a Little Help From My Friend

So there I was on a Friday afternoon, bored as usual. Winding down for the week. Oh hey, here's an email from my friend Mel! The one who used to work at the desk next to mine, the one who I trained as my back up, the one who is SO SMART and FUNNY. The one the Tax Office stole from me and refuses to give back, making my work life so much suckier (as PJ would say, 'but NO, I'm not BITTER').

Mel gave me the BEST blog name. Haha, and I checked right away and...it was available! But not anymore! So since I don't know how to change my blog name and not wipe out my few and far between fabulous posts, I started a new one. Let's just see if I can link to it.

http://www.mysisterhasthebestsisterintheworld.blogspot.com

Heeheehee

And please keep in mind, my sister only has one sister, and I would be she.

The Name Game

So being new to blogging, and not wanting to ask for help from my lying sister, I found out yesterday that anything I post on Blogger will be ascribed to the same name; that is, if I am using the same email address. And now that PJ made a stink about my alias, I ditched it. No, no, not because of the stink. Just for consistency's sake. Crap, I love Helen Dunkel. Oh well.

No new sisterly lies to report today. Not yet. But it's only 6:40 a.m.

Family Love

At least PJ confessed to stealing the blog name I threatened her with. I took too long in creating a blog. She thought I was making empty threats. The lesson here is, don't trust PJ, she will make a pre-emptive strike!

So I was forced to come up with a different name. And if you're reading this, then...you probably know my sister.

Let's just end with this for today:

I'm rubber, she's glue.
Whatever she says about me,
Bounces off me and sticks to - You Know Who!

BTW - that's the truth.

Seriously

You might know my sister PJ because SHE is a BIG FAT LIAR. Pants on fire.