Dear Hint of Light Guy: I see it’s been a hundred years since you started writing this humor blog. When will the humor kick in?
Dear Humorless: Not 100 years, 100 posts over one year. Just as a fine wine needs time in the barrel to convert sugar into alcohol, humor needs time in the medulla oblongata (make sure you were born with an oblong medulla; round ones don’t get it) to convert capicola, ham, salami, baloney, onions and other hot electrons into amusing subatomic sandwiches. Warning: If consumed in quantum states (think North and South Dakota, but with people instead of fire ants) there is a risk of everything being defracted, usually into a toilet, at 3 a.m. Which is so typical of the dysfunctional Lepton family that the electrons married into. By the way, this fits in with what scientists call the Pauli Exclusion Principle which basically states that you say goodbye and I say hello.
Dear Mr. Hint: Have read all 100 posts. Just so we’re on the same page, when you say humor, you mean, like, funny. Right?
Dear Potential: Did the Leptons put you up to this? Because I don’t have to do this, you know—expose my vulnerable self to the world only to be made fun of. I could be in a law office billing hours to the VA. I could be driving a nice, cool ice cream truck, wearing a white suit and a white cap with a shiny black peak. I could be hosting a party for the surviving Kardashians (speaking of middle-of-the-night defractions). But no, I have chosen to write a humor blog—not because of its monetizing potential, but because I care. AND I need the monety.
Dear Dr. Light: My medulla used to be oblong, but some time ago a truck hit my motorcycle with me on it. In my most recent X-Rays it’s taken on more of a rhombus shape. Yet I find every word you write to be hysterically funny. I especially liked the blog about that rhinoceros running for Congress.
Dear Brain: Thanks for the compliment, but I’ve never written anything about a rhinoceros running for Congress. I think you may have me confused with the blog “A Hint Of Rhinoceros.”
Dear Hinto: Your delivery boy has thrown your blog into my bushes again—the third time this month. This morning, however, he outdid himself, tossing it up onto my porch roof. I climbed out the bedroom window to retrieve it and found my brother-in-law who has been missing for 13 years. I hurried back inside, closing and locking the window. Please tell your delivery boy to aim for the bushes from now on.
Dear Mad: We’ve spoken to the delivery boy. He’s just gone in for Tommy John surgery, and as you know, it takes about a year to recover from that, so your roof should be free of blogs for some time. By the way, in an emergency, please feel free to call our brother-in-law removal service. (Offer void where prohibited.)
Dear Light dude: I write a blog called “A Hint Of Rhinoceros,” and I notice that you recently published a post about a rhinoceros running for Congress. That would be me, Bob The Rhinoceros. You gave the impression that a rhino could never get elected to Congress. Admittedly, I lost the election to a blind hamster, but only because of the negative tone of your blog.
How about we agree to keep out of each other’s territory. You stop writing about rhinos and I stop writing funny stuff. To prove my sincerity I’m sending over three of my best rhino-walks-into-a-bar jokes. They are really funny. Just change rhino to horse, or bear or something like that.
–Bob the R
Dear Bob: Sadly, I didn’t find your rhino jokes funny and I think it goes to the idea that people just don’t believe a rhino would walk into a bar. Charge into a bar? Maybe. Whereas a bear walking into a bar seems reasonable vis a vis farcical comedy. Besides, it occasionally really happens. Just ask U.S. Senator. James J. “Fuzzy” Bear (D) Alaska. And once again I deny having written anything about a rhinoceros running for Congress. (Charging? Maybe.)
©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2014, all rights reserved.
Dear you. That’s funny. Ommm and peace from the Temple.
Three m’s in Ohm? No “h”? Awfully close to Ummm. But thanks for stopping byyyyyy.
No thank you for letting me.