Last night my brother Ray and his wife Piper had a “date night” to celebrate Ray’s birthday. I got to spend some time babysitting their daughter Valencia and, as always, we had fun.
On the way back from the movies (Charlotte’s Web…it was OK for what it was. I’ve never seen the “classic” cartoon and I’ve never read the book, so it wasn’t something I probably would ever have seen otherwise) we were riding in the car and I sneezed. About a minute later, Valencia sneezed. After a few moments, she sneezed again but the second sneeze was blatantly obvious and I called her on it (“You faker! That sneeze wasn’t real! What a fakey–fakerton“).
After some short ribbing about her fake sneeze, I declared we were going to have a contest to see who could do the funniest sneeze. It eventually got to the point where my sneezes were so outrageous I was screaming at the top of my lungs, honking the horn, and opening the sun roof. It was fun to make Valencia laugh so hard she was out of breath.
So yeah. I so won that. Not even close.
Sometimes things happen that are, for lack of a better word, tragic. But for some reason the media will at times present them to me in a way that comes off as humorous.
Case in point:
I was reading the local newspaper yesterday and there was a story about some maniac running around in the New York City subway system. Seems he was carrying a cordless power saw with him, and for no particular reason, decided to slice up some guy’s chest. Don’t worry. The guy is OK. Shaken, of course, but the injury wasn’t fatal.
They went on to interview the victim (“He didn’t say anything! I think he was crazy!”) and also obtain comments from witnesses (“He had a crazy look in his eyes!”). It went on to say the victim was OK and the attacker was in custody.
And then, the last sentence of the story is what killed me. After reading about this horrific incident, the writer of the story decided to wrap it all up with this classic line:
In an unrelated incident, earlier in the day the attacker punched a different man in the face.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
While visiting with my brother the other day he informed me that he hates — hates — Will Ferrell. Huh? How can that be? There are some people who could say that and I wouldn’t be surprised, but as goofy and crazy as Ray is, I don’t get how he could find Will Ferrell un-funny.
Considering the adventures Ray has had so far in his new job as a mailman, if someone were to make a movie about Ray’s life, I would cast Will Ferrell to play the part. Not only do I think it would be hilarious, but also because I know it would drive Ray nuts.