Hilarity ensues

Is there something about me that just attracts totally batshit insane nutball freaks? I'm serious. There must be something in the air that just makes them seek me out. Or maybe they just recognize their own, who knows.

I bring this up because last night on guard duty (Yes! I had guard duty again! And it was so much fun! That I wanted a terrorist to come shoot me!) this guy came up to me and decided to test out his stand-up comedy routine.

I’m not being sarcastic. He really was testing out his stand-up routine. Which was the worst comedy routine ever exposed to human ears.

The thing is, he kind of warned me. He approached my guard post, asked me for a lighter, and then sat down. I asked him if he had actually be going anywhere, and he said, “Yeah, I’m going to midnight chow, but I usually stop on my way and bullshit with the guards.”

Okay, sounds fine to me, I thought. Better than standing here by myself.

But it wasn’t. No, standing by myself in the seventh circle of hell would have been better than the moments which followed. The moments in which he said, “Yeah, usually I come over here and do some comedy to make ‘em laugh.”

He then proceeded to bust out the worst Chinese accent ever to Is there something about me that just attracts totally batshit insane nutball freaks? I'm serious. There must be something in the air that just makes them seek me out. Or maybe they just recognize their own, who knows.

I bring this up because last night on guard duty (Yes! I had guard duty again! And it was so much fun! That I wanted a terrorist to come shoot me!) this guy came up to me and decided to test out his stand-up comedy routine.

I’m not being sarcastic. He really was testing out his stand-up routine. Which was the worst comedy routine ever exposed to human ears.

The thing is, he kind of warned me. He approached my guard post, asked me for a lighter, and then sat down. I asked him if he had actually be going anywhere, and he said, “Yeah, I’m going to midnight chow, but I usually stop on my way and bullshit with the guards.”

Okay, sounds fine to me, I thought. Better than standing here by myself.

But it wasn’t. No, standing by myself in the seventh circle of hell would have been better than the moments which followed. The moments in which he said, “Yeah, usually I come over here and do some comedy to make ‘em laugh.”

He then proceeded to spew forth a stream of random unintelligible words in said accent – some of which, I believe, referred to my mother allegedly being too fat to leave the eggrolls at the buffet.

It kind of hurt. My ears, that is.

Here’s the thing: when you are on guard duty, there is no option of leaving your post. Hence, in this case, I had to figure out a way to get HIM to walk away from ME. I didn’t think that would be too hard, seeing as how I seem to inspire people to all but throw their own feces at me in rage half the time.

I tried simply not laughing at his jokes. I tried turning my head the other way. I tried audible groaning every time he paused for breath.

Nothing worked. He was the Energizer Bunny of obnoxious amateur comedians. I wished he’d have been running on an actual battery so I could have yanked it out and whipped it at him. But sadly, he did not have a battery. Foiled again.

Finally, driven by mental anguish and uncontrollable antipathy, I just looked him in the face and said, “Dude. That’s not really very funny.”

Now, if somebody said that to me? I would burst into tears whilst punching them in their happy parts. But not he.

“But this makes people laugh!” he protested. “It’s funny!”

“No, it’s not. That Chinese accent? Sounds more like a Drunk Chinese With Downs Syndrome accent. It’s painful to listen to.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well, how about if I talk about something else?”

[audible groan]

He then launched into a spiel about marriage, and how women are evil dictators who use matrimony to carry out their plan for world-domination. Ths could have been funny, except that it reminded me of something that a good comedian may have once vomited up.

Plus, the dude obviously had NO CLUE of the whole “play for your audience” concept. None.

I asked him, “Hey? Yeah. You realize I’m a woman, right? A ... married ... woman?”

“Um …”

“Have you ever been married?”

“I was engaged once –“

“Yeah. Okay. Please stop. Why don’t you talk about something you KNOW about? Like, um, being in Iraq, maybe? I bet that could be funny.”

“Man, there’s nothing funny about that.”

[pause]

[pause]

At which point someone (THANK GOD!) happened to come by, and the dude (who shall remain nameless, because I don’t know his name) left.

Seriously. What is it about me?

:::::

I have come to the conclusion that the room next to mine is inhabited by hyperactive apes. There is no other explanation for the cacophony of raucous thumps, bangs, and grunty noises which are constantly being emitted from that area to my right, your left.

They always seem to be at their finest right around the time I’m drifting off to sleep. I’ll feel my brain begin to shut down (doesn’t take too long, considering the starting point), then my muscles become non-tense for the first time all day, then my breathing slows, then BANG! BANG! THUMPETY THUMPETY BOOM! [indecipherable noises] BOOM. SLAM! KAPOW! OTHER COMIC BOOK FIGHT TERMS!

Then they leave. And my heart resumes beating.

Dear Dubya: I ask again -- please, may I go home now? For real.

:::::

To those of you kind souls who have requested my mailing address so as to send me fun and inappropriate items, I say “Thank you! You ROCK!” and I suggest that you e-mail me, so that I can e-mail you back, and then I don’t have to post my Secret Agent info for all the world to see.

Try bluemeanyATdiarylandDOTcom, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figger sumpin out. Because I love receiving fun and inappropriate items.

Speaking of that! I also love to send you items in return. However, I’ve discovered that getting T-shirts for everyone can potentially make me broke. So, if I have already promised you a shirt, I will keep my promise. If not, I will find something equally as cool and not-equally-as-expensive. Cool? Sorry, I’m a bit freak-out-ish about saving my money these days, as I want to eventually be able to survive without the Army.

:::::

I sorted a bag of Jolly Ranchers this evening, due to the fact that cherry and apple are yucky and needed to be removed and disposed of accordingly (namely, set upon my lieutenant’s desk). Now every time I reach my hand into the bag, I can be content in knowing that I will pull out only watermelon-, blue raspberry-, or grape-flavored candies.

This is as close to heaven as I believe I will be getting for the moment.