This is Twittering, Episode 30: A Funny Thing To Say Edition

It’s time for a special edition of This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.

A few months ago, I started making jokes on Twitter with this construction: “If [something happens], I think a funny thing to say would be, “[some punchline—usually a groaner].”

I like this construction because it’s a cop-out. I’m not saying the joke is funny; I’m just saying that it would be funny. But even if the joke isn’t funny, the overall statement—because of the way it’s phrased—becomes funny because then it’s ironic.

Now you know all my secrets.

Anyway, here’s a bunch of ‘em:

When someone asks you three questions in a row, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Geez, what is this, Three Questions or something?”

See, instead of 20 Questions. I think would really be funny.

If you’re reminiscing with someone about a really loud party, I think a funny thing to say would be, “A good time was heard by all.”

This wouldn’t really be that funny, but the idea of “reminiscing about a really loud party” is funny to me.

If you were talking to someone who said they were an “expert”, I think a funny think to say would be, “Really? Why’d you quit?”

See, because of the “ex”. I think this would really be funny.

If somebody asks if you’re married and you’re not, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I’m one of the least married people I know!”

I like this one because it doesn’t make sense, yet it’s completely irrefutable.

If you were really frustrated, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Good news, everybody: I can’t take it anymore.”

This is funny because that’s not really good news. On the other hand, it might be.

If someone tells you that asparagus makes your urine smell funny, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I’ll believe it when I pee it!”

As an offhand remark, this would be amusing. But here I’m suggesting you premeditate such a remark, which would make it less amusing, but the idea that someone actually would plan it is the funny part. See? Cop-out.

If you have to ask someone how to spell a simple word, I think a funny thing to add would be, “…*I* know, but I’m asking for a friend.”

This is another one I’d like in real life. See, it’s funny because, if you knew the spelling, you’d just tell your friend without having to ask someone else.

If you run into someone you don’t like, but they’re stylishly dressed, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Lookin’ good, asshole.”

This isn’t so much funny as it is true.

If you’re getting acupuncture, I think a funny thing to say would be, “What a prick.”

Quiet at first, but then loudly and repeatedly.

Thinking about this situation makes me laugh. The idea of mumbling (and then shouting) things while someone sticks needles in you is funny on it’s own, but I think this is the perfect thing to mumble (and then shout).

If you have to tell someone about a murder, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I have some good news and some murder news.”

This is funny because it’s weird.

If you were annoyed about something, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Who can I sue about this?”

This would be funny, because lots of people apparently do think this without saying it. Which is why it’s funny.

If you’re giving someone the option of how to be hanged, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I have some good noose and some bad noose.”

This isn’t funny.

If someone tells you that something is invisible, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Oh, I see.”

I think this is funny. Because of the metaphors we live by.

If you had an identical twin named Adam, I think a funny thing to say to people would be, “You don’t know me from Adam!”

This is funny because it’s true.

If you’re at a Rolling Stones cover band concert and they ask for requests, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I demand Satisfaction!”

No.

If you were Conlan, I think a funny thing to say would be, “If I had a nickel for every #MidnightDump, it would be a joke about two things.”

This is a joke about me. And also it’s a “funny thing to say” joke. It’s about two things.

If you were really adamant about changing your hair color, I think a funny thing to say would be, “I want to try dyeing or die trying.”

I like this one.

If you wanted to encourage a performer before a show, I think a funny thing to say would be, “Break a leg or I’ll break it for you.”

Positive and negative reinforcement[1]. I think it could really work. Truth in comedy.

WORDPLAY:

For a psychic at an optical illusion exhibit, a funny thing to say would be, “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not what it looks like.”

Get it?

That concludes this extra-special episode of the thing where I talk about stuff.

  1. Encouragement is not actually positive reinforcement. []

This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest, Episode 29

It never stops. This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest. Follow, favorite, retweet @thisisconlan.

STUPID:

Retweets speak louder than words.

This is a clever new twist on the old adage, “Actions speak louder than words.” But the part I like about it is, it’s totally true.

STUPID:

Being a defeatist isn’t as kick-ass as it sounds.

Maybe it doesn’t sound very kick-ass, I don’t know.

WISDOM:

The enemy of my enemy is probably an asshole too.

I generally find that people who define themselves in opposition to something—rather than in support of something else—tend to be assholes. I know I am.

WORDPLAY:

I expect big things from you, but I expectorate even bigger things from me.

Seriously, you should see this stuff.

STUPID:

PRAY FOR TWITTER.

I don’t really know why I tooted this. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

REACTION:

Typing a quotation mark as two apostrophes is something that some people actually do.

People are interesting.

WISDOM:

When people say “there are two sides to every story”, they usually just want you to stop paying attention to the side that isn’t theirs.

There are three sides to every story. And none of them are true.

WISDOM:

The thing about homeopathic “medicine” is, for it to work, it’d have to violate every known law of biology, chemistry, and physics.

In many cases, not a single molecule of the “active ingredient”[1] remains in the final solution of homeopathic remedies. Seriously, look it up. You’re better off praying or saying a magical incantation (God and Gaia don’t want you to give your money to swindlers). You still might get a placebo effect and you’ll be saving cash, which you can send to me (God and Gaia are OK with that).

REACTION:

I don’t like when a woman tries to act like “one of the guys”. Not because women shouldn’t act like men, but because nobody should.

Guys are gross.

REACTION:

There’s nothing so refreshing as fresh-brewed iced tea. There’s nothing so defreshing as “instant” iced tea from concentrate.

We can put a man on Mars, but we can’t abolish this abomination? Way to go, humanity.

WISDOM:

A stranger is just a friend who won’t tell you that you have bad breath yet.

The good news is, you just made a new friend.

WORDPLAY:

You really screwed the pooch when you started taking every idiom literally.

Poor dog. It has no money.

STUPID:

Whenever I see a really cute little kid, I just want to punch them in their cute little face (out of appreciation).

Maybe this is inaccurate. Maybe I just want to punch something. Haven’t you ever been overcome by so much genuine cuteness that it made you angry? I have.

STUPID:

Howdy, y’all!

Just kidding. I don’t talk like that.

So don’t even be trippin’.

REACTION:

Every time I see a box of a certain size, I can’t help but think: there’s a severed human head in there.

This doesn’t really have to do with the movie Seven.[2] It just seems like some boxes were made for heads. Ring boxes were made for rings and head boxes were made for heads. It’s science.

STUPID:

The cornstalks were as high as an elephant’s eye and as thick as an elephant’s… trunk.

Good save, Conlan.

That concludes this episode of This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.

  1. I use the term loosely, because there’s usually no evidence that the active ingredients actually help with anything. And it’s usually in such small quantities that it’s literally impossible for it to have any affect on you. []
  2. I tooted this before I saw the great swede at Swede Fest. []

This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest, Episode 28

I hope you had a nice Thank-Sgiving. Now, let’s talk about the things I say on Twitter. Let’s call it another episode of This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.

REACTION:

QUESTION AUTHORITY.

No, no. Not *that* authority. The other one *over there*.

How dare you question me when I tell you to question people who tell you things.

REACTION:

Like I always say, “Ask a stupid question, get a legitimate answer.”

I do this sometimes when people ask me stupid questions. And maybe legitimate answers are the stupidest answers of all.

REACTION:

Eyewitness accounts are great at gauging emotions, but not great at determining facts. Trust me: *I was there*.

Everybody knows that eyewitness testimony isn’t the best kind of evidence, except when it’s their own eyewitness testimony being called into question.[1] It’s been scientifically demonstrated time and time again: we don’t pay attention. The question is, how do we know the scientists aren’t misremembering the results of their experiments? I guess we just have to take it on authority.

WORDPLAY:

You’re so vane, I bet you think the direction the wind is blowing is about you.

Weathervanes are useful tools for determining which direction a rooster is facing.

REACTION:

Tip for sounding smart: just add that which includes a lot of extra other words around what in the sentence you are in the act of writing.

…and…

But at the same time, leave out words you assume everybody knows mean, like prepositions and pronouns, because saves time take nap.

These are things that some people do. I’m pretty sure the former happens as a way by which the writer wishes to seem, quid pro quo, more intelligent than one might assume that same person to be. I admit, it’s fun to write like that. But it’s not a good idea if your goal is to be understood.

The latter happens when writers write exactly how they speak. When speaking, a lot of grammatical meaning is expressed through inflection, allowing us to drop words. For example, “Are you going the store?” becomes “Going to the store?” and the hearer knows what that means. Again, writing like this isn’t a good idea if your goal is to be understood. And the primary goal of most writing should be to be understood, not to sound “smart”.

REACTION:

“Link; don’t stink.”

This is my internet attribution motto.

Internet plagiarism makes me mad.[2] A lot of news-ish sites like to post bits of news or videos or whatevers without giving a hat tip to where they found it. I don’t like this, either. I don’t even like it when someone toots song lyrics or inspirational quotes without quotation marks. I’m pretty uptight, I guess. But how about giving credit where it’s due?

STUPID:

Semicolons are so pretentious.

No, they aren’t. I think they’re useful punctuation, along with colons and dashes. In my previous toot, neither a period nor a comma provided effect I wanted. Ergo: T.G.I. Semicolon.

WISDOM:

Everyone wants to be an iconoclast until their own icons are the ones being o’clasted.

This goes along with questioning authority. No one really wants to change their own point of view; they want to change other people’s. It’s just how our brains are wired. The irony is, our brains are also wired to hold tighter to our own beliefs when they are attacked. Extremism begets extremism. So, we’re all doomed. But don’t despair: it’s always been this way (hat tip: God).

By the way, did you know that “o’clasted” isn’t really a word? Pretty funny, huh? I’m so clever.

WISDOM:

We’d probably be a lot smarter if we weren’t so worried about being clever.

Shit.

REACTION:

This is why we can’t have nice clichés.

But clichés make the world go round. All work and no cliché makes Jack a dull boy. Let’s give credit where cliché is due. Clichés are the greatest thing since sliced bread. I’ll believe it when clichés fly.

And so on and so cliché.

That concludes this episode of This is Twittering: Meta-commentary Digest.

  1. When there’s a high-profile murder trial in the news, people like to talk about how circumstantial evidence is better than eye-witness testimony. And that’s often true, but it’s only true because a lot of eyewitness testimony is essentially worthless. []
  2. Fortunately, I’m not popular enough to be plagiarized. []

Ask Conlan: Thanksgiving

Some dumbo writes:

Dear Conlan,

With Thanksgiving coming up, I’ve been wondering: what’s the best present to give a turkey for his (or her?) birthday?

Sincerely,
Summer Dumboski

First of all, thanks for your question. Secondly, I feel I should point out (for my readers in Eastern Europe) what “Thank-Sgiving” is all about.

In 1892, Columbus sold the ocean blue-chip stocks. Since the ocean has a lot of liquid income, the stock broker (whose full name was Larry Columbus) was able to retire on his commission, if that’s even how stock brokers make money (I have no idea). To celebrate his retirement, Larry bought all the turkeys in the tri-state area. He wanted to open a turkey zoo, just like he remembered from his boyhood in Istanbul.

He loaded all the turkeys onto a train bound for The Pilgrims (which was the name of an upscale suburb outside of Baltimore). Unfortunately, or fortunately, a hobo had left a half-eaten can of cranberry sauce on the tracks near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The train (officially christened “The Unsinkable Titanic”) hit the can—spraying sticky, purple gelatin everywhere—and then derailed, crashing into a Crisco factory.

Thousands of turkeys died in the ensuing blaze and it smelled delicious. Rather than let all the sweet, smoked turkey meat go to waste by letting homeless people eat it, Larry ordered a team of chefs to transform it into a meal fit for a Norse god. Larry and almost 12 of his friends gorged themselves on the turkey meal, then promptly died of Rip Van Winkle Syndrome.

When everyone else in the western hemisphere heard the story, they believed the crash-splosion and subsequent death meal had been a gift from the god of tryptophan, Sgiving.[1] This made almost no sense. Nevertheless, the mayor proclaimed that henceforth every fourth Thursday of May[2] would be known as “Thank-Sgiving”. People went nuts about it (in a good way).

And that’s where Thanksgiving[3] comes from.

To answer your question, Summer: everybody loves mittens.

  1. At the time, Norse gods were really popular. []
  2. This was before the Great Calendapression. []
  3. The name was shortened after The Final Punctuation Solution in the 1910s. It was a dark time, indeed. []