Last week, on two occasions, Leigh-Anne and I got the opportunity to make jokes that only the other got to hear. They were pretty funny at the time, and it seemed a waste that only one person got to hear them.
Leigh-Anne was discussing one of GWB’s recent speeches, and remarking that all the people at work were saying that the speech was “congenial and easy to understand,” and how that seemed to be the most noteworthy thing about it. Thinking back to an old episode of South Park, I said, “Let me guess: His entire speech consisted of, ‘Me President, bachomp, bachooeychomp, bachooeychooeychomp?’” SHe seemed to think that this was hysterical. At least that’s what I inferred from the spasms of laughter.
Saturday night, we were watching TV, and came across a station showing the gawdawful Kurt Russell sci-fi film, Soldier. In the scene we happened upon, Russell is trudging through your garden-variety postapocalpytic landscape. All around him, stuck in the ground, are crosses made of hastily-tied-together pieces of scrap wood and metal. After about a second, Leigh-Anne said, “Oh, look, it’s the Blair Witch Graveyard!” It struck me at just the right time to be hysterically funny.
Now, if THAT isn’t mundane and pointless, I don’t know what is.