The Unfunniest Joke Ever Told

You are what you eat. Tonight I am an instant percocet and a couple of spoonfuls of peanut butter. I lay around wishing I were eaten. There are worse things to be. I could be a few grains of rice like those kids in Africa, swelling and shrinking at the will of water. Whoever said you are what you eat is a complete and utter jackass. I mean, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people and make some horseshit saying like that into a standard of American quotations.

How about more realistic quotations like “you stoop where you poop” which is obvious or “your shirt is totally gay”? Obviously not gay as in a male anal penetration gay because that would require your gay shirt to have a gender and a sexual preference, but more gay in a sense that I know people who do take it in the crapper who wouldn’t wear a pink shirt to a bar. So I guess the correct quotation would be “your shirt is gayer than gay”.

I’ve been thinking about why I have recently started to hate people more and more. I think don't it's simply because it is more mainstream to be an unhappy dick. There are a few people that I won’t say I hate instantly, but I take more time judging when I first meet them. You know. You don’t want to befriend someone and find out he or she is secretly a Nazi.

Maybe my spitefulness spawns from being thirty years old who is already falling apart. I know sixty year old's who are in better shape than me. Granted, I have lived more in just a few of my years than most do in their lifetime. But there are plenty of people who did all of the same dumb shit and still walk around excreting youthfulness.

I’ve always said that the heavy drinking or excessive partying would be my downfall. Surprisingly, it was my exercise routine that did me in. Over the past year I have deteriorated exponentially. My back is like that of a senior citizen. I have high blood pressure from all the junk I eat. I take pain pills just to be able to move around in the morning. And let’s not forget my on-going stomach problems that will most likely end up being Crones Disease.

My doctor told me that normally he would tell someone with high blood pressure to exercise and diet. But, since I can not exercise due to my gimpy back, he will just put me on another pill. I shook my head in defeat and went for my EKG and chest x-ray.

I was an avid gym-rat through most of my party phase. Now that I can not physically go to the gym, all of the bad habits of my past are coming to a head.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that God has a dark sense of humor. At times, after the panic attacks pass, I laugh at myself. When I can not sit through dinner because it feels like someone is stabbing my legs with a knife, I think about the stupid kid who was once a champion weight lifter. Or the thin and toned kid who, once upon a time, had girls looking his way with attraction instead of disgust. Then, I think about the man I have become who thought one day he could publish a novel and have millions of adoring readers waiting impatiently for the next book. I realize then, that this writer’s block is the funniest joke of them all.

But I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the funniest stories I’ve heard. Everyone laughs, the curtains are drawn, and some guy in the back farts very loudly. What could be funnier?