His Act Died for Your Sins

Laugh not lest ye be laughed at.

If a brother should smite thee with a humorous anecdote, reply with two stories even more self-deprecating.

Blessed are the unfunny and the dull-witted for their zingers will rip us new assholes in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Blessed are the easily confused and those who never get the joke for they shall receive the humor of God and will know when the archangels are being sarcastic. Yea, they will finally get it.

Blessed are those who suffer ethnic disparagement because of the crude, silly antics of their countrymen, for they shall have better addresses. And better countrymen.

In the beginning was the Pun and the Pun was stupid. Stupid good!

Get thee behind me, hack comedian!

Whose face is on this button? Bozo’s? Then give unto Bozo that which is Bozo’s.

But avoid the leaven of the hack comedians so that thy humor is not fluffy and airy but tough and full of substance like unleavened bread.

For wide is the gate, and broad is the way, and slippery is the surface that leadeth to cheap laughs.

And if a heckler should ruin your act, go ahead and give him your overcoat as well. The one with bubonic fleas.

Ask, and it shall be given unto you; seek, and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. Knock-knock, and we’re pulling your ass off the stage.

Forgive them Father, for they do not know a good joke for shit… But please kill those hecklers.

Formulas for Funny and Insults for the Ages

I invented a new saying I’m hoping will catch on:

“Yeah, but what are your real problems?”

The normal context for such a remark would be when someone is complaining at length about something. And that happens a lot!

Unfortunately, this might be a bit too insulting for use outside of the northeastern United States, LA, and Israel. Those smarmy Canadians and Midwesterners will never take to it.

But I know it’s mine because I googled “but what are your real problems” in quotation marks and got zero results. Now if you google it you will get this page and this page alone. That means I own it.

The reason I’m hoping it will catch on is because—I don’t know, really, I guess just to invent something and have some credit with myself—to hear me come back to me on the lips of someone else and be able to say to myself that was me.

Because there have been all sorts of “formula jokes” in wide circulation over the years, changing with the times:

  • “Oh, it’s one of those.”

This was a joking rejoinder used in the 80s when someone was describing something weird as if it were more normal or typical than it really was. (And being normal was important back in the 80s.) E.g.:

“She was like this Valley girl chess champion on steroids.”

“Oh, one of those.

This is the ironic strategy of over-agreeing. As if: not only do I understand what you’re describing, I even know of this entirely improbable category of things just like it.

Later on, in the 90’s, there developed a much more concise form of humorous over-agreement, but it really only works well with a thick Italian-American accent. Someone says something improbable, unfeasible, self-defeating, or obviously inaccurate, so you reply in an overly agreeable tone (preferably with a guido accent):

“Yeah, huh!?”

From the mouth of a qualified guido it can be pretty funny.

  • “—from Hell.”

This was such a formula joke back in the 80’s that the demographic computers which wrote the scripts for the TV show thirtysomething even picked up on it. I think the line was something like: “It’s the latest Yuppie marketing strategy from Hell.”

And no, there was no intended irony there. Demographic computers couldn’t do that back then, only real writers, which thirtysomething lacked.

Unfortunately, this trend of using demographic computers as “creative” writers has continued apace since the hellish days of thirtysomething. All of the jokes in the GEICO television ads, for instance, are generated by computers trying to replicate the “typical” things that “typical” people say when they’re trying to be funny or responding to something funny:

“Yeah, I guess I walked right into that one…” or “…I get the gist.” etc.

  • “Is that a cry for help?”

As we moved out of the selfish 80’s into the touchy-feely 90’s, this line became a new formula for humorous disparagement. So for example:

“Is that a garage sale or a cry for help?”

Or someone does something strange and you say:

“Well, we all have our ways of crying for help.”

This suited the 90s better than the harsher put-downs of the 80s (e.g. “You’re hurting!”) because, while disparaging, at least it purports to be empathetic and with a mind towards “therapy,” however sardonic the intentions.

So it’s in that same vein that my new formula put-down (“But what are your real problems?”) carries itself:

You’re trying to help and to listen (snicker) but at the same time you’re insultingly implying that the listener is a fucking mess and that the things they’re complaining about are just tip-of-the-iceberg indications of some much deeper problems.

Concise insults like that deserve wide circulation. Now go use it to put down your friends. Use it before GEICO grabs it and wears it out.

Fresh Business Ideas from 500 B.C.

Scythian Saunas with Real Sensimilla not that Seedy Shitty Scythian Stuff

According to Herodotus, the ancient Scythians made marijuana saunas. See if you can spot his error:

“Inside this little tent they put a dish with red-hot stones in it… They take some hemp seed, creep into the tent, and throw the seed on to the hot stones. At once it begins to smoke, giving off a vapor unsurpassed by any vapor-bath one could find in Greece. The Scythians enjoy it so much that they howl with pleasure. This is their substitute for an ordinary bath in water, which they never use.”

MODERN UPDATE:  no seeds, obviously, just buds.

You see, the Scythians were smart, especially given their backgrounds, but they weren’t so culturally advanced as to have sensimilla (seedless marijuana). Consequently, when the Scythians threw their spindly seedy buds on the fire, Herodotus, who got fucked up, thought the seeds were the point. ‘Understandable, given that the seeds pop and put out more smoke and considering how fucked up Herodotus got.

It’s amazing he remembered anything. Truly a great ethnographer.

But like Colorado, it would have to be well-regulated. Like you’re only allowed one sauna per day or something.

Would it sell? What are you an asshole? Of course it would sell!

Gladiator Goo

The Romans were smart enough to market gladiator sweat and stupid enough to buy it.

We honor that capitalist spirit of intelligence and stupidity and go one better by offering gladiator dick-cheese, the goo that accumulates inside the foreskins of the uncircumcised penises over in Old Europe.

Really old Europe. Like Transylvania and stuff. Places so old the sun barely shines there anymore.

And yes, these are genuine gladiators and other heroic sports and military figures. We didn’t just scoop the cheese from some genetically defective geek or something. These are manly men with so much testosterone they’re deadly.

A vial of their manly essence will make you deadly cool too. A few smears of Gladiator Goo and all the ladies will be fawning all over you inside your new Scythian Sauna complex.