Man, sometimes… sometimes I laugh at things for a really long time. I mean, REALLY long. The first time I watched Fight Club I couldn’t understand what the movie was about because after the line “This chick Marla Singer did not have testicular cancer,” I literally fell over laughing and stayed that way for the remainder of the time the movie was on. In fact, the people watching it with me were so annoyed that they turned it off.
Speaking of women, I think sexist jokes are painfully funny. Like, hilarious. I don’t take offense to them. I joke about being pregnant and barefoot in a kitchen all day. Perhaps, it’s because I’m still under the ideals of chivalry somewhere in the child/princess/southern belle part of my brain. Perhaps, it’s because I have really house-wifey instincts. Any which way, the whole thing is absurd and that’s why it’s so funny.
Ok, let’s get this straight first, I am a vegetarian. I do not enjoy the killing of animals or causing them harm. I don’t eat meat, including fish, and I don’t eat by-products of the meat industry such as gelatin (which is sad sometimes, because I love marshmallows).
THAT BEING SAID, I think the funniest thing I can think of is a pony on fire. I mean… A PONY ON FIRE. It’s an adorable mass of muscle, hair, and flames, leaping gently across a grassy plain. It’s like some kind of hilarious fire god. The kind of fire god you take to your child’s birthday party. Such grace. Such glory. Such a ridiculous state of being both alive and on fire.
I guess there are lots of retarded things that I laugh at (YES, I just used the term retarded. PC freaks, calm down) come to think of it. But I don’t mind. It seems pretty fitting of my personality.