It’s Not Me, It’s You, Really

I have been thinking about this for quite some time now and we have come to the conclusion that maybe you’re just not smart enough to understand this type of humor. Most of my readers “get it” but there are a few of you left out. While the rest of us are laughing our well-educated asses off, you guys are scratching your heads and feeling uncomfortable. Look, I’m no rocket scientist, but compared to you I’m like a rocket scientist’s boss who screams at the rocket scientist for being a stupid loser and keeps threatening to fire the rocket scientist unless he gets his shit together and stops screwing up. That probably doesn’t make sense to you because I can see the confusion written all over your face. I’ll put this another way. Have you ever heard of Albert Einstein? You are like the opposite of him. I don’t know the name of the guy who is the opposite of Albert Einstein because you don’t get famous for being an idiot, unless you are the president of the United States or something. Imagine the dumbest guy in the entire world. He was the guy you tried to cheat off of in shop class back in 9th grade.

Let’s not kid ourselves; smarts just don’t happen to be one of your strong suits. Your talents mostly revolve around lifting heavy objects and lawn maintenance tasks that don’t require the use of complicated tools like leaf blowers or hedge trimmers. All of your test results indicate that you have an aptitude for cafeteria work. We are talking about prison cafeterias, but still. That ain’t a bad gig if you can get it. Too bad you aren’t Muslim; you could be a suicide bomber. I hear they have an excellent training program that would be perfect for you.

I really can’t blame you for not understanding my particular brand of intelligent, super-sophisticated humor. There is nothing wrong with the stuff that you find funny. If I remember correctly your favorite program is America’s Funniest Home Videos. I have tried to cater to your tastes but it’s difficult to write about a guy getting hit in the nuts with a football. See there? You’re actually laughing just thinking about a guy getting hit in the crotch. Now you’re laughing because I used the word “crotch.”

It’s just that my humor is so incredibly sophisticated that it makes a cartoon in The New Yorker look like a bad episode of Married, With Children, and that show was way over your head. You can’t be expected to find humor in the delicate and subtle prose of my essays just like I don’t laugh at the men’s room limericks that you find so entertaining. So just keep watching America’s Funniest Home Videos and we'll keep making fun of you. It's not like you can even understand that we are making fun of you so what's the big deal?