“And because you think something is funny, everyone should laugh?!” the vice principle asked me incredulously.
“Well uh, yeah. That’s why I say it,” I naively replied. I genuinely thought I was being funny. The vice principle didn’t laugh.
Dude didn’t even crack a smile.
How, I found my mind drowning in the question, how could I find something so fucking hilarious while bald headed dude and those of similar hierarchical ilk found little to
none of my comedianitry even remotely amusing? If no one laughed
then I would have stopped long ago, I reminded myself, and yes
there had been laughter but only by the bravest souls and
even then breaking out from only the rankest improv
before dying a horrible death quarantined by the
stifling statism of stone faced room monitors.
Apparently they had grown weary of the
competition for attention in their class
rooms which meant I had just lost
round two in a life-long battle
for attention. Who next? I wondered.
Thank you, friend.
Barry out.
http://youtu.be/0ud-pdJh8S8
As I was “waiting to see the principle” in grade ten I remembered I had forgotten to take a twelve pack of beer out of the trunk of my car.
Cold beer in the trunk of my car. In the school parking lot.
Any way I sliced it, this meeting with management was going to wind up in my favor.
Cold beer on the brain = hubris.
I’ve got attention deprivation.
Jis lak elvis.