I believe what you meant to say is that you’re turning into a fucking curmudgeon.
Oh my! I hope the person who tweeted it didn’t get banned or something…
Here’s a rambling anecdote about how a joke was inadvertently turned into an anti-joke. It happens to be true.
Kaylasmom and I have a friend (Mrs. R), who along with her late husband Shorty, spent several years as an entertainer in Branson, MO. They were never headliners; just a husband-and-wife singing/songwriting duo. Shorty apparently had a teensy problem with stage presence; he’d always try to introduce some crowd-pleasing patter in between sets, usually with limited success. Mrs. R. put it more succinctly: “Shorty can’t tell a joke to save his life.”
So Shorty decided to do some research. Taking advantage of the privileges that accrued to him as a dues-paying member of the Branson Performers’ Association,* he would attend matinee performances of some of the more famous folks in town for free, and keep an ear peeled for material.
Then one afternoon, in the Mel Tillis Theatre, Shorty struck gold. Between sets of songs, Mel would engage an audience member and ask “Where ya from?” On this occasion, the response was “Wisconsin.” Mel said, “Wisconsin? I got locked up in Wisconsin once. <beat> I ate too much cheese.” The laugh that got from the audience must have etched itself into Shorty’s brain, because…
Shorty commenced to make it a habit during each of their shows to ask a random audience member from whence they hailed. Mrs. R.'s recounting of the tale did not dwell on what kind of non-Wisconsin answers he got, or how he dealt with them; just that, one glorious evening, Shorty finally got his wish:
Shorty: So, we hope you’re enjoying your time in Branson. You, sir, where ya from?
Random Audience Member: Wisconsin!
Shorty (presumably after taking a moment to let his heart stop leaping for joy in his chest): Wisconsin? I got thrown in jail in Wisconsin once. <beat (perfectly timed, btw)> I ate too much cheese!
Nothing from the audience but blank uncomprehending stares. Meanwhile, it’s all Mrs. R. can do to not pee her pants.
*Almost certainly NOT the actual name of the group under whose auspices he acquired these privileges, but their name isn’t really part of the anecdote, so I’ma use it as a placeholder…
Two priests are off to the showers late one night. They undress and step into the showers before they realize there is no soap.
Father John says he has soap in his room and goes to get it, not bothering to dress.
He grabs two bars of soap, one in each hand, while he is halfway down the hall when he sees three newly inducted nuns from other city heading his way.
Having no place to hide, he stands against the wall and freezes like he’s a statue.
The nuns stop and comment on how life-like he looks.
The first nun suddenly reaches out and pulls on his manhood.
Startled, he drops a bar of soap.
“Oh look” says the first nun, “it’s a soap dispenser”.
To test her theory the second nun also pulls on his manhood. Sure enough, he drops the second bar of soap.
Now the third nun decides to have a go. She pulls once, then twice, and three times but nothing happens.
So she gives several more tugs, then yells:
“Holy Mary, Mother of God! LIQUID SOAP TOO!”
It was so bad that I hope they did!
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