Brown brats.
Brown potatoes.
Brown toast.
Brown coffee.
Brown coma.
Actually just a regular coma.
"Brown coma" sounds like I shit myself.
Although I do have a little joke I do with Lauren.
It goes like this:
TONY: How did you sleep?
LAUREN: Like a baby.
TONY: So you shit your pants?
I am always on!
I am a non-stop laugh cannon!
I swear, sometimes I am Robin Williams.
When it comes to zingers, I am an expert marksmen.
If hilarity were a virus, our apartment would be quarantined!
Often I laugh myself right to sleep.
I woke up around 4pm.
I changed my underpants and went out.
(Hilarious immediate callback to the shitting pants joke.)
It was Joanna's birthday.
Ten years ago, Joanna and I used to date.
She was also in my old band.
Now she draws.
A group of us met up at a pizza parlour.
Tom and Thea from Nurse Novels were there, so it was a Sandwich Shop reunion of sorts.
I mentioned that I had begun shopping for an engagement ring.
Suddenly, I was a hero.
People displayed excitement.
They asked questions.
I provided hilarious answers.
They responded with non-stop laughter.
Brown laughter.
Do you get it?
They shit themselves.
I brought it all back to shitting.
Thank you.
Thank you very much.
(Comedy genius.)
Verdict: Win
No comments:
Post a Comment