Sunday, March 04, 2007

Girl Troubles

The weather's been nice this weekend, so we've been out frolicking and gallivanting. Mostly gallivanting. In the meantime, enjoy this from the archives:

I've always had difficulties with women. See, I'm funny. I know, I know, women are always saying that all they want is a man who can make them laugh, but the more complete answer would be that they want a tall, strong, good-looking buck who can make them laugh while building them a log cabin with nothing more than a hatchet and a box of twelve-penny nails (which he would hammer in using his penis).

The problem when your primary weapon is being funny is that you can't turn it off. Part of being funny is being very fast with jokes, which involves training your brain to send impulses directly to your vocal chords, bypassing the judgment center of the brain. Although you can catch a girl's attention like that, all too often you offend her before you can trick her into falling in love with you.

I recall a young girl, let us call her Mary, with whom I was rather taken. We were discussing history and anthropology in her living room with a mutual friend or two, when the subject of life expectancy came up. Mary had taken a course in early civilizations and asked if we knew what the primary cause of the lower life expectancies in past societies was. I suggested death. After the awkward silence she said it was actually infant mortality. Apparently we were having a "serious conversation" and I was an "ass."

To be funny, one must hang out with funny people. They will challenge you to sharpen your wit by a never-ending barrage of verbal abuse. At least, that's how it is with my friends back home. We're a bunch of like-minded individuals, in other words, a bunch of sarcastic assholes. It's hard to adjust to the outside world when you've spent a lot of time in a circle of friends like that. You learn to attack, quick and vicious, and at the same time you learn not to take anything seriously. The outside world, though, they take things seriously.

I remember this one girl, let us call her Mary, whom I had begun to court. Sitting in a bar with some mutual friends, I remarked on a story of how she deflected the advances of a smitten pursuer. It would seem that saying she had a "cold, dead, black heart" offended her. How could I have phrased it any differently? Adjectives work better in series, three is usually a good number, and the alliteration with the d's was required for the flow. I could have merely said that it was cold, but that wouldn't have been funny.

Race is not a sensitive issue with us. The reality of race is that it is a purely visual characteristic, but humans are visual creatures. Race will always be an issue, so it can either be an issue that embodies rage or one that embodies laughter. My friends come from various parts of the world, and we find that amusing. We mock each other's ethnic origins, we mock our own. Nothing serious. Rest of the world, serious.

This one girl I thought was cute, let us call her for sake of argument Mary, was sitting at a lunch table with a few friends. We were talking about ethnic slurs and I remarked how my favorite was "honkey." A particularly sheltered youth had never heard of it, so I casually said it referred to white people. I have nothing against white people, some of my favorite relatives are white people. I just like the sound of honkey. But Mary was from a more homogenous part of the country, and she said that she always thought that honkey referred to Poles. I of course, without funneling the thought through my cerebral cortex, countered that a better definition of honkey was anyone who thought that honkey referred to a certain, less white, breed of white people. Perhaps calling Mary a honkey wasn't nice, but it was funny. Retarded, but funny.

You see, people like me joke about everything. At various times, a person's quirks, foibles, or belief structure will come under fire. It's not supposed to be offensive, but some people can't see the humor in attacking the foundation of everything they hold dear. Sometimes, someone gets hurt. Sometimes, that someone is a girl whom I found endearing, or a girl with a really sweet ass. But this is the sacrifice you must make in order to be funny.

And there was that young girl, strangely enough also called Mary, who used to have lunch with me after lecture on Monday, Wednesday, and even Friday. We used to talk of many things, and laugh. How was I to know that she'd take being called a "gold-digging crackwhore" personally? It's just a figure of speech in my group of friends.

A comic is not like a sniper, firing off witticisms at clearly-defined targets. A comic is more like a monkey with a flamethrower. A whole lot is happening, and most of the time he's only vaguely aware of it all. Control is out of the question. People look at us at the jiggsblog and think, "These fellows are pretty funny, and they're not ugly men, so naturally they must have to fend off an unending stream of tail every day of their lives." Not so. Weep for us, for we are funny.


miss kendra said...

mary is a honkey bitch.

Lee Ann said...

*tears streaming*

Rebecca said...

seems to me you should just stop calling them all mary.

jamwall said...

mary, mary, mary, mary and mary all have cold dead black hearts, all honkeys named mary do.

SLTYEB <----- salty edible bananas.

Ɯbermilf said...

In the words of the immmortal Thin Lizzy, if that chick don't wanna know, forget her.

twolf1920 said...

F*ck em if they can't take a joke!

slappy said...

Kendra: This is why I gave them all the same pseudonym, so you wouldn't beat their asses on my behalf. You're sweet.

Lee Ann: There there, don't cry.

Rebecca: I figured it would keep me from accidentally calling one of them the wrong name. Guess not.

Jammer: What about Mary from It's a Wonderful Life? She seemed nice.

Ubie: Well said.

Twolf: Equally well said.

twolf1920 said...

So basically there truly is "something about Mary.."

Kat said...

Most canadians are beer guzzling honkeys or is that honkies?

amera hearts said...

mary = queen douchebag

jamwall said...

speaking of "tits a wonderful life" i get a kick out of the fact that jimmy stewart's wife (in this alternative george bailey-is-dead existence) is a meek quiet librarian who wears granny glasses and screams when she gets grabbed by big gangly men with funny voices.

nah, obviously she would be a call girl.

slappy said...

Twolf: I refuse to watch a Ben Stiller movie unless the Wilson brothers and Vince Vaughan are also in it.

Kat: I think that it's honkeys. Honkies doesn't say "white devil, plural" to me.

Amera: None of them were douchebags, although one of the Marys spurned me, saying that I "depressed her." I felt that was unnecessary.

Jammer: I figured alternate-reality Mary would have entered a lesbian relationship with the blonde chick that had a crush on George... Violet. Or at least that was a dream I had once.

Spinning Girl said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Spinning Girl said...

It's important to be able to laugh at oneself. Humor lets us see clearly.

ps It would help if I could spell

Carl Spackler said...

great post. i thought you lived in boston? that mary girl has no sense of humor. you don't want to hang out with people like that. i for one enjoy your witty, sarcastic sense of humor. i have a pretty strong Pimp hand so if you need a bitch let me know.