What kind of sadists do they have working at WordPress that they would create this prompt for the weekly writing challenge?
Poke fun at yourself, write a limerick, find the absurdity in a real-life situation, come up with some groan-worthy puns, sketch a comic, put some fictional characters in a farcical situation — all’s fair in comedy.
This challenge is an open invitation for all the unfunny people in the world to inflict their painful lack of humor on the rest of us through their blogs, and they’ll probably all come up with posts that look a lot like Is This Even Funny?
While considering the writing challenge, I started thinking about all the unfunny people I’ve known in my life and I’ve decided that to be an actual unfunny person you can’t know that you’re unfunny. There’s a definite requirement of obliviousness. To be unfunny, you have think you are funny, like my Uncle Tony who used to
annoy entertain my family by referring to my younger sister and I as the “Brady Bunch.” See, that’s not funny because there were only two of us, not six like in the show. We were barely a “pair” let alone a “bunch.” But I am blonde (though my sister is brunette) and our last name begins with the letter “B” so I guess Uncle Tony thought it made some kind of sense, maybe? And did I mention the show had been cancelled six years before I was even born (but of course had been running in syndication ever since)? Anyway, I think his television set broke in 1972 and he’d never bothered to get a new one, so he wasn’t aware of any shows produced since then, or else I’m sure he would have called me and my sister the “Olsen Twins,” even though, you know, we weren’t twins.
While I was struggling financially (and academically!) through college, I worked at a Ruby Tuesday’s with another server named Mike. Naturally, we all had dreams beyond Ruby Tuesday’s: I wanted to be a college graduate, and Mike wanted to be a stand up comedian. The problem was I was flunking Calculus and Mike wasn’t funny. Mike was gross. He had been reprimanded by management and instructed not to talk to customers, at all, beyond taking their orders and serving their food. So he lost his practice audience for his comedy routine. This is where I came in.
Mike: Hey, hey Karen!
Mike: You have a good sense of humor, right?
Me: All right, yes.
Mike: Ok, listen to this. You know when you’re sitting on the toilet taking a shit–
I’ll spare you the rest of his “bit” but, just so you know, I remember it in it’s total, torturous, unfunny entirety, and it is now over ten years since Mike and I were colleagues. That memory, along with the time I gave a twenty-minute-long presentation to a group of middle aged men with my pants unzipped, I would like to scrub from my mind.
You can read more about my time working at Ruby Tuesday’s in Would You Like Your Porn With Condoms, or Without?