Bastards strapped me down on the operating table. I had been warned about my sense of humor. They would operate on the humor portion of my brain and extract the whole thing. I'd spend my whole life humorless.
What would that make me?
I have no opinions or insights. One day you post a few innocent remarks about stroller people and the next you're getting brain matter cut out.
Maybe I can get laughs with impressions or dialects or accents. I'll memorize funny stories and jokes. Unless they screw with my memory too.
If I am stuck being serious all the time I'll have to work for the IRS. Or sell small appliances. Will I be invited to parties?
Here comes that damn mask. Count backwards from ten. What a joke.
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