Double Flee A

The bus I take to work takes in the neighborhood of forty-five minutes to get there. During this forty-five minutes, at least three children can be expected to squeal and/or cry, one extremeley drunk person of the native American persuasion can be expected to ask me a random question (today it was "Why you hate the teachers? Why you hate the preachers?" Then in a fit of creative genius, "Why you hate the teachers and the preachers?"), and at least one wheelchair can be expected to delay the bus. The wheelchairs I don't mind, but when a person is so fat that they can't climb aboard using the stairs and we have to wait for the driver to operate the lift to heft their chub, I get cranky.

This paragraph will hopefully imitate what I don't like about the writing of James Lileks, author of the "Backfence" column in a local newspaper. I spoke to my brother Joe last night, and he suggested we make a show called "queer eye for the queer guy." I say why stop there, when we can do "Eye for the blind guy, a wild romp through experimental opthalmology"? Since it's bound to be such a hit, we'll follow it up the next season with "Why pinkeye with a sty makes Robert Bly cry". And then what would be EVEN FUNNIER THAN THAT... damn you, James Lileks. Just damn you.

I, on the other hand, am so funny, listen to what I came up with today: when a lightbulb conspicuously needed changing directly over the speaker at a comedy convention, all participants knew at once that they were at the apex of some cruel and fitting joke. Eh?
Eh? Yeah. Actually, you know what's funny? An unexpected shift in context. Har.

posted by dale @ 4:35 PM