Thanks to my blog post on how to make fun of yourself, I am now the first result on Google for “how to make fun of yourself”. I am the world’s top source for self-destruction. Yay.
Making fun of yourself is normally an ability that you’re born with. You might be a mutant, a clown face, or just a plain old loser. Luckily I’m all of the above. When you’re blessed with so many disfigurements, it can be fun to point them out to the world. But if you’re still having trouble knocking yourself, here’s a formula that just might do the trick. I give you: The Perfect Formula for the Imperfect Person.
When I was a kid I had an idea for a washing machine that automatically dries the clothes. It seemed so obvious to me, and I was sure that it would be mass produced and raking in money for someone before I could even tell anyone my idea. It’s been years, and every time I look at those two hunks of metal and plastic I wonder why it still hasn’t happened. One of these machines can cost thousands of dollars, and you’re telling me I need to buy two of them? If you look at a modern washer and dryer, you’ll see that they’re identical. They have the same size compartment and the same moving parts. With all of our modern technology and brilliant minds, how have we not combined these two redundant appliances? Are all the world’s scientists and engineers too busy to find time to shove a blower into a washing machine?
Cole (3 years old): Do you know what Jesus doos when you have a cough?
Me: What does Jesus do?
Cole: He makes the cough go away.
Me: Oh. What does Jesus do when you cut your finger?
Cole: He tells you to go to the doctor.
If you’re looking for a little more respect in your life, consider buying a large, heavy SLR camera. Anyone who accidentally walks in front of you while you’re holding your camera will immediately bow before you with a sincere apology. Everyone will be concerned that they look their absolute best when they enter your presence, and many will ask you for your tasteful advice.
My old watch was a “geek” watch. It was big and shiny with lots of fancy parts. It had a beautiful round digital display and loads of features. It was solar powered; I had it for years and it never needed a battery. It had atomic calibration, so it always showed the precise time. It had a data memory of 315 characters, 5 customizable alarms with reminder text, automatic daylight savings, and world time.
I loved my watch, but it was time to get a new one. But how could I find a watch that could live up to my beloved Casio Wave Ceptor WV-100? I considered all the different technologies available in watches, but no particular one jumped out. I ended up settling for a no frills, low tech, plain and simple, only-tells-time analog watch. It doesn’t have super powers, it doesn’t run on nuclear energy, it doesn’t even have numbers. It just tells time. Approximate, plus-or-minus time.
I miss the technology, but I’m okay with it. It’s a well-built, good looking watch. The only problem is, it’s been so long since I’ve looked at an analog clock that I’ve pretty much forgotten how to tell time. People have always been so accustomed to asking me for the time and getting a precise, immediate answer down to the second. Now by the time I figure out what time it is, (um, let’s see…two, three…fifteen, twenty….five, six…3:26!) that’s no longer the correct time and they’re no longer standing around waiting for the answer.
I recently met a kid whose name was Josh, and his dad was like, “Look, Josh, his name is Josh too!” The other day I met this guy and he was like, “Wow, you’re the third Josh I’ve met today. That’s so funny!” Get over it people! When you’re 6 it’s fun to find out that there’s another Josh in the world, but now it’s just not funny anymore. I dare you to walk into any business and ask to speak to Josh. It’s up to you what you say when they ask, “Which one?”