Comedy: September 13, 2006 Issue [#1262] |
Comedy
This week: Edited by: Melissa is fashionably late! More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
Life throws us curve balls, running us through a gambit of emotions. The best emotion of all is happines, and nothing envokes happiness more than laughter. There is a science to making others laugh, and it is through that science that comedy has evolved.
This topic of this week's Comedy Newsletter is excess. |
ASIN: B07N36MHWD |
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I am a person of excess. I can never do anything halfway. It's either all-or-nothing for me. Unfortunately, I married a person who also has excessive behavior. He collects a lot of tools. He has a lot of electronic toys, along with hunting equipment, fishing equipment, and Notre Dame memorabilia.
My excess starts immediately when you walk into my house. In the front room, I store my abundance of scrapbooking supplies. I have enough "stuff" to start my own scrapbooking supply store, although I'm pretty sure that what I have pales in comparison to the stash owned by one Problematic Content . (He's a closet scrapbooker who even secretly admitted to me that he reads scrapbooking magazines on the can. )
Along with my abundant paper crafting stash, you'll also find an ever-growing yarn collection, since I also knit and crochet. The funny thing about this is that I just cleared out 3 50-gallon rubbermade containers of yarn from my basement, trying to limit myself to just one small yarn basket. Needless to say, I found some high quality yarn on sale and couldn't help myself. My yarn stash is now not only a small yarn basket, but also another laundry basket and a couple of yarn bags full of yarn.
Then you come to my living room, where the excess is not of my creation, but that of my son's. At nearly 19-months old, he loves toys and books. You'll find both in substantial supply in our living room, where he spends most of his time during the day. The kid toys co-exist with my husband's electronic toys, and every once in a while you can see the carpet. Now, some might suggest that the excess of toys and books are a product of our purchases, but I submit that since my husband is an only child, my son is the only grandson, great nephew, and great grandchild on my husband's side of the family. Not to mention that I, as the oldest child in my family, have also graced the only grandchild and nephew and the first great grandchild on my side of the tree. Basically, this makes my son's excess a product of his grandparents, aunts, great grandparents, and great aunts and uncles.
A different kind of excess greets you in the kitchen. Basically, this consists of every dish that exists in my house dirty and in the sink. Unless my mother-in-law is coming for a visit. Then I stuff them all into the dishwasher before she has the chance to see them, smell them, or get bored while watching my son and wash them for me. She's coming for a visit today, so can you guess what that light whirring sound coming from the kitchen is?
My hallway is an excess of remodeling. It's been that way for about three years now, although some progress has been made in the past few months. Up until about April, it had hit a dead end of drywall repair and peel-and-stick tile on the floor. Now, there's actually paint on the walls, although the momentum took a screeching halt after the first coat made it up.
My son's room is another show of excessive toys and books. He also has a lot of clothes and shoes. Recently having gone up a couple of shoe sizes in a short period of time, I cleaned out his shoe basket. He had enough shoes to fill two plastic grocery bags! And now that he's gone up a clothing size, I find that I need to go buy another rubbermade bin just to hold his 18-months sized clothes.
And then you find the master bedroom, where you'd be greeted with an excess of... stuff. Everything that doesn't belong in the rest of the house goes in the bedroom. There's also an excessive dog smell, no matter how much I vaccuum, because we have an excess of dogs. You almost can't tell that we have dogs by the rest of my house, but no matter how much I vaccuum, I can't seem to get rid of them. (I'm secretly hoping that eventually I'll vaccuum up enough hair that the dogs will just disappear altogether.)
So if you've made it this far, you've survived my excessive rambling about the excess in my life. I hope it's entertained you, and maybe even made you laugh a bit, or at least helped you to know you're not alone. (Someone, please comment that they have the same problem. I can't be alone in this treacherous life of excess.)
Now I'll issue a mini-challenge for this issue. Those who read my Contest & Activities newsletter will probably recognize this. Submit a comment, any comment, particularly a question regarding something comedy related. I'll send 100 GPs to anyone who submits a relevant comment or question. If your comment or question is used by a newsletter editor, I'll send you another 1,000 GPs. And if your comment or question inspires an entire topic for a Letter From The Editor, I'll give you a merit badge.
Questions and comments need to be submitted by September 19, 2006 in order to qualify for this challenge. I'd really like to see an excess to make it necessary for me to have to purchase some GPs! |
Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter! https://www.Writing.Com/go/nl_form
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Thanks for featuring one of my punny stories in your newsletter - and for making one about puns! My father always told me that puns are the lowest form of humor. He was no good at them, and that's probably why. Sorry, Dad... you're wrong about this one. Fart jokes are the lowest form of humor. - Waltz Invictus
I have to disagree. Fart jokes are not the lowest form of humor. Dumb blonde jokes are.
My favorite pun:
Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail, and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him...(Oh, man, this is so bad, it's good)...
A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.
Hope that tickled your funny bone! - dizzyduck
That cracked me up! Thanks for sharing!
Hey, I just had a thought....
Nope, lost it. - LilPaul
Hmmm... I bet if you post up signs around your neighborhood, you might get it back.
Loved the puns, and wish you a very happy anniversary x 3! - windac
Why thank you! I had a lot of fun, too. |
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