I answer my phone at work with a British accent. If I am to meet the caller in person I will speak with a strong Southern drawl.
I am a 40 something man and I talk to my wife’s cats in babytalk.
Occasionaly I will go to a strip bar with my friends and pretend to be blind, Raybans, white cane and all.
There is a ceramic bird house hanging from a tree in our front yard and I always clunk my head on it every Saturday while mowing the yard. I used to get angry, now I laugh. You would think that I’d catch on. Guess not.
By the way, kniz, on the Jody-Jodi thing – y’all will catch on eventually. My sister has been married to a guy named Don since 1970 – and we’re usually fairly sure which Don is being talked about, him or our brother.
I’ve been known to use the word “pig” and variations thereof not only as a noun, but also as a verb, adjective, pronoun, and expletive.
I have a cat who likes to sneak under the covers and start “digging” into my belly late at night.
I chase my birds while making a noise like a big crow.
Oh also, I can cram 62 pretzels in my mouth and I like to send people text messages to tell them I’m on the toilet. Even when I’m not. Even when I’m in the same room as them so they can clearly see I’m not.
I chase my cat around by making “scary monster noises” and lurching slowly from foot to foot like a bad Frankenstein from a B movie. Sometimes he seems to be genuinely frightened of it.
I get a sense of childish glee from running around the house naked.
I sometimes wear things on my head like a hat (eg. a stuffed animal, plastic bag, tea cozy, etc.)
Okay, that’s enough… People are gonna start thinking I’m weird or something! 
i changed my own diapers when i was a toddler.
i charged the tooth fairy interest when ‘she’ was late in her payments.
pretending to be foreign is really, really fun.
my sister likes to add ‘mc’ to the beginnings of words and i’ve caught the mchabit.
whenever i see a straw wrapper, i have to flatten it out.
I do shadowboxing in my room and pretend that I´m hit sometimes. I usually end winning by KO the heavyweight title in the last round.
I like to wear stupid t-shirts, the stupidest, the better.
I put music aloud in my room and sing to it, and yes, I salute the “public” when the song´s over.
I like to imitate my dog, just to see how he reacts.
I never, NEVER shave the day before an exam.
I put strange accents sometimes while talking to people, and usually introduce meaningless sentences in conversations with said accents.
When first introduced to somebody I sometimes don´t tell my first name, because it is usually mistaked by a surname, so to avoid explaining why it is my name and not my surname I use others.
While my kids are in the bath, I sit on the chair and take off one of my slippers, then pretend it is a phone; the kids start trying to tell me, saying stuff like “Dad! It’s a shoe!”, but I cut them short and say “Shhh! do you mind? I’m on the phone”. When the joke starts to wear thin, I’ll let one of them actually tell me it is a shoe, then I look at it and do the standard cartoon surprise routine, (jump with fright, exclaim wordlessly and throw it into the air).
Then I pretend that I can’t remember how to put it back on my foot (I’ll try putting my heel in first, or hold it the wrong way around etc), the kids shout “no! turn it round! the OTHER way!”, wherupon I act as if realisation has dawned, then promptly attempt another impossible configuration; when this joke starts to wear thin, I say “Aahh! The phone! Hang on, I’ll get it…”
Repeat ad nauseam.
I enjoy baking without using labour saving devices, but quickly lose interest in eating my creations.
I occasionally answer my phone as “Angus Mc Dooglemeister’s House of Haggis and Debauchery” in a thick Scottish brogue.
Sometimes for fun, I cruise around like a boy racer with classical music blaring. Or a looping track of System of a Down’s “Bounce”, which consists of 45 minutes of the words “pogo-pogo-pogo-pogo…”
I like to wave a little kids. They’re so cute!
I was born in Tacoma. I still live here. If that ain’t silly, I don’t know what is.
The first Godfather movie bored me to tears, and I never saw any any of the sequels. On the other hand, I enjoy the hell out of The 5,000 Fingers of Dr T, Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, and A Man for All Seasons (the Paul Scofield version). And I can’t wait till Bored of the Rings becomes a Major Motion Picture.
Well, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I read(not all the time!) Barbara Cartland novels.
I used to talk to cows when I was younger.
I also told random people that my name was Cinderella and that my older sister Leslie was the “bad” sister and Michelle was the “good” sister.
I also flashed my band-new panties at the precher one day in church.
Occasionally I start talking like Bubbles from the PowerPuff Girls for kicks. Usually I’m shouting something about stickers or flowers.
I also talk to my cats in baby talk. Or is that kitten talk?
misshornypenny and I once played 6 degrees of seperation using punha’s relation with Val Kilmer and family relation with C.S. Lewis. We’re only 4 degrees from J.R.R. Tolkien!
When a song I really like comes on the radio while I’m driving I’ll start to dance in the car. Most of the time I manage to keep both hands on the wheel.
I an a huge Backstreet Boys fan and still fancy that one day I will meet Kevin and or AJ and they will instantly fall head over heels for me and battle to the death for my affection. Of course I’d step in before anyone died and tell them that there is plenty enough love for the both of them.
Okay I think that’s enough silliness for one post.
I own a gorilla suit.
I wear it.
So do I: either to go for a paddle or hop in for a quick dip. Living in Thunder Bay, I get the chance quite often.
I speak cat. Not baby talk, but a series of tongue clicks, low squeals and other tongue lip sounds that wil attract a kitt’s attention and cause them to converse. Either that or they’re thinking, “There’s the bugger who smoked my catnip-apparently it was good shit.”
I love to bounce loaves of bread off my daughter’s head into the cart when we go shopping together after calling, “INCOMING!” When we’ve finished paying for everything, I look ar her and say, “RUN AWAY” and we dash out of the store, across the parking lot like lunatics-she’s lost in laughter during high speed shopping cart rides.
She’s still little enough that some noises are still funny and not gross: a chair rumble is followed by the exclamation: “Mouse on a Harley!”
*When I was 13 I taught myself a nervous tick. Whenever I would die on Crystal Quest I would scrunch my nose. 15 years later and still whenever anything surprises me I scrunch my nose.
*I once spent 25 hours n the Coffee Etc. in Tucsan, AZ drinking one cup of tea from an all you can drink order. I arrived with a group of friends. More friends arrived and the first group left. And so on and so forth.
Well that’s about it. I’m not oozing with silliness.
My August top score at juggle mania this month was more than twice the next best. Bow, mere mortals, before my awesome silliness.
I worked for a company which had to maintain QC paperwork in the ISO9000 vein. I wrote and inserted into the manual the work instructions for executing an executive, via guillotine. As the font chosen was one of the gothic ones, and not the standard Arial or TNR, it was obvious enough to be funny. The funny thing is that no-one at that company knew what to do with the QC auditor rolling on the floor of our boardroom in a fit of giggles. Or who the culprit was.
Whenever required to submit a job description, there has been a mock description attached, which frequently rendered the manager in question helpless with laughter.
I am now developing a real estate appraisal of the house in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, for review by one of the principals at my current place of employment (yes, an appraisal firm).
In myself, I’m not that funny (or silly). I just mock working documents really well.
