I have the sense of humor of a third grader.

My sense of humor hovers around the area of bog foam and toe jam on a squashed turd weevil. It’s low brow, classless, immature, and all encompassing. I still laugh when the Subway girl grabs the mayonnaise tube and there is only a small bit left and…

Then a momentary flash of imagination hits and I am at a party in the late 1970’s. All of the furniture and the carpet are colored lime green, brown, yellow, and florescent orange. Fondue pots and Nerf footballs. Someone just took off the John Denver record and put on Steve Martin. Straight guys wearing ascots. Tinted glasses. Womb brooms. All of the men have thick sideburns and the women have eyebrows so thick they look like stapled muskrats. Everyone is wearing sweaters with clumpy, disjointed yarn designs on them. And there I am hunkered over the food table, eyes bulging as I am quietly grunting yet furiously stuffing every pore of my face with garlic meatballs dipped in bleu cheese and cabbage fondue. I swallow just long enough to blink, stupefied inside some sort of gravy toxic shock, then, like a celebratory Viking, I glug down a warm Schlitz. An hour later I’m crying my life story to a wall of pet rocks.

*Blink*

The Subway girl squeezes the mayo through plastic nipple and you feel light headed and again drift back in time to the next day after the party slumped over upon the cold lips of the toilet. Then as she squeezes the last bits of mayo out of the tube the sound triggers the memory of those triumphant, nuclear beer shits after the best Arbor Day in years. You giggle with relief. Yessss……

“Chips and a drank!?”

“Huh?”

I’m betting on Dorf remakes. Easy Money? Essential theater. Remember Harvey Korman and that movie The Longshot? Yeah, there’s Tim Conway again, followed by awesome. And it keeps getting ogurt. Barth from You Can’t Do That On Television? Let me explain. It goes: God, Kirk Gibson, then that guy. (Doh!) I own three hockey fights video on vhs AND I live alone.

Wait…

Honestly, I laugh at everything and everyone. Don’t get so over protective about your kid. When he or she falls down looking like a drunk with a lumpier head, I’m gonna laugh. Get attacked by a cougar and it bites off your eyelids? No apologies. I’m gonna bust on you. So whether it’s the greasy fart noises of mayonnaise containers, fat girls falling, sports bloopers, or making fun of someone at the expense of their sanity, I’m probably going to laugh and will encourage others to join. Yeah, I know it may not be very nice but damn, if you didn’t laugh at everything how can you laugh at anything?