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I’m not being Funny

Submitted by on September 24, 2012 – 6:19 pmNo Comment

By Quinny

Funny is a funny thing isn’t it?, some people are naturally funny and gifted at making people laugh, some people are downright miserable and by their very nature are just as funny.

I occasionally sit down after having read something funny and think to myself ‘I can write something as funny as that‘, but guess what?, I sit there with forefinger at the ready on my laptop and just look at my screen with not a funny thought in my head.

So when I say I occasionally sit down and try to write something funny then I am lying because I don’t any more.

Real life is far more comical, and relating instances from your own mundane existence can often be far more entertaining.

I was at the Matlock game a few weeks ago at Gigg Lane talking to my mate about this and that when he said to ‘I hope we don’t lose Adam Jones’.

‘Me too’ I said, then I got thinking, word play drives me crazy and maybe I am a touch autistic in as much as I am constantly analysing what is said to me and I have to examine its literal meaning, this takes a split second, don’t get me wrong I’m no genius far from it but my mind is so adept at it now that usually no matter what is said to me it turns to ridiculousness inside my head in moments.

My mate can hold a full conversation with me whilst I’m changing the first and last letters around without even flinching or pausing to think about it.

So I said to my mate ‘It would be shocking, we would have to put his face on milk cartons and retrace his steps from when we saw him last play’. ’What?’ he said. ‘If we lost Adam Jones’ I said.

At half time I went to the gents and as I settled into my place in the urinal I looked down and saw that the man next to me was wearing flip flops, It wasn’t a cold day by any means but it wasn’t blistering hot, but that’s besides the point, even if it had been blistering hot what would possess a grown man to travel to a football match in flip flops.

Maybe it’s me being funny. But I always go to a football game in my walking boots because it’s a football game with a big crowd and its damn near impossible to escape someone standing on your foot, it’s bad enough with hefty shoes on but to be wearing flip flops… It was also quite obvious that whilst he was relieving himself his feet became splattered with his own urine, again I say what possesses a grown man to take a leak at a grubby concrete toilet wearing flip flops and in the process soaking your feet with your own piss and perhaps piss from your pissing neighbours.

Much later, when I was home, I was sat down doing nothing in particular when my other half shouted to me from another part of the house ‘Have you seen Rooney’s gash?’.

‘No’, I said, hoping she had not turned into a foul-mouthed pirate whilst I had been out of the house and hoping she meant Wayne and not Colleen.

My other half is not at all religious whereas I was brought up a god fearing catholic boy, she mocks me when I am ridden with guilt and laughs at my religious beliefs explaining that they cannot possibly be true.

She has never had the weight and burden removed from her shoulders by saying three hail Marys and then experiencing the freedom to go out and sin your head off until you have to go to confession the following Saturday.

She asked me ‘If Mary was a virgin when she gave birth to Jesus then what did Joseph have to say about the whole thing? What did she tell Joseph, did she tell him after the act or keep it to herself?’ I didn’t really have an answer and to be honest I have no idea.

She then asked me ‘Did Mary consent to Jesus’s dad impregnating her? Because if he didn’t then he clearly raped her‘. Shocked at the very suggestion I was left floundering, looking at my shoes for a response, I didn’t know the answer again.

She then asked me ‘If Jesus’s dad got Mary pregnant to send down his only son to have a mortal life then there must have been two Jesuses, one in heaven and one on earth, what happened to both of them when he was later crucified and went back up to heaven?’

Again I dint know the answer, I would like to take her to meet the local priest but I fear he will fare no better at her interrogation technique and the whole faith will become a laughing stock.

Anyway I am still trying to think of something funny, I will keep you posted.

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