Tag Archives: humour

Jokes

I need to finesse my ChatGPT briefing skills This is supposed to be people in a pub listening to a joke.

When people used to congregate in pubs in large numbers and with great frequency – this is going back a few decades – they’d often end up telling jokes. Some were good, some were bad and there were many that you wouldn’t want to tell, much less hear, today. But they’d always be preceded by the joke teller saying something along the lines of:

‘Here’s a good one…’

‘Reminds me of the one about the…’

‘Did you hear the one about the bloke…’

‘Stop me if you’ve heard this one…’

So not only did everyone know that a joke was coming, they also knew that it had been told before; that it was a joke that was ‘doing the rounds’. It didn’t make the jokes any less funny that you knew this (assuming they were funny at all, but even then most people would chuckle out of politeness or early-onset drunkenness), but it did mean you knew the tellers hadn’t made the jokes up themselves. In my various circles of friends, colleagues and family members, I’ve never met anyone who’s actually made up a joke. And yes, I have asked. A timely bon mot or rejoinder, definitely. They can be funny as hell, but they’re generally of the moment. They don’t suddenly get shared by groups of people in pubs. If the exact same circumstances that provoked the funny response were to happen again, elsewhere, and you were there along with a group of people who hadn’t witnessed the previous occasion, and you remember the wording of the witty response and you get the timing right, then yes. You could pass it off as your own smart witticism and bask in the glory. But it’s a big if.

But something has changed. Well, a lot’s changed. People don’t go to pubs quite as much or as often as they used to. And when they do, I’m pretty sure they don’t stand around regaling one another with jokes. (I’m happy to be corrected on this.) People are still telling jokes on social media. But they’re not of the shaggy dog variety, with long set-ups before a (hopefully) side-splitting punchline. And they’re not snappy little knock-knock jokes, either. Jokes online generally include funny responses to items in the news, or comments made by public figures; or they’re observations about the human condition and the craziness of modern life. And they can be fucking hilarious.

The biggest change for me, though, is how people are quite happy to pass off what for the sake of brevity I will call ‘gags’ as their own work. I didn’t notice this trend on Twitter, but it’s rampant on Threads. People see a gag and instead of reposting it, they’ll go to the trouble (OK, it’s not THAT much trouble) of copy & pasting, just so that it looks like the product of their own wonderful sense of humour.

Why do people do this? I mean, it sometimes works if what they want is a few hundred likes and maybe a few extra followers, but what else in in it for them? And how does it make them feel? ‘Wow, that gag I nicked was really popular! I must steal more stuff from other people and develop a greater sense of fraudulently acquired self-esteem!’

I don’t get it. But then I’m someone who still laughs at doctor-doctor jokes.

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A joke for St Patrick’s Day

Two Jewish guys are walking along 5th Avenue in New York. As they pass St Patrick’s Cathedral, one of them spots a sign on the steps outside.

‘Come on in! Convert to Catholicism and get $500!’ it reads.

‘Would you look at that,’ says Abby.

‘I know!’ says Dan. ‘Guys must be desperate.’

Weeks later the two meet up again.

‘Hey, Dan,’ says Abby. ‘Remember that sign outside St Patrick’s?’

‘Sure, I remember. What of it?’

‘After I left you, I went back and took a look inside.’

‘You did?’ says Dan. ‘What happened?’

‘Well, I got talking with the priest and decided to convert. I’m now a Catholic,’ says Abby.

‘Wow,’ says Dan. ‘Did you get the $500?’

Abby says ‘Jeez, you people are all the same!’

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Death threat fills me with love and pride.

One day in 1997 I came home to find a postcard on the doormat.

Even back then it was decidedly retro, meaning it had probably been sent by either my brother or my friend Adam. Like me, both of them will actively seek out retro or just plain bizarre postcards when abroad or in secondhand shops. I scanned the image on the front…

…then turned it over to see who it was from.

I was mistaken. It was clearly my 7-year-old daughter’s handiwork. I recognised the writing and the drawing style. More than either of those, though, I recognised her sense of humour.

The card reads:

Dear Kevin
You are doomed for you will explode with dignomight.
Love Mr Shape man

Georgia had written the card at a friend’s house after school, then placed it amongst the other mail on the doormat for me to find when I got home.

I loved the postcard in 1997 and it immediately got blu-tacked to our fridge where it’s remained for the past 14 years. Yellowing with age, it’s now off to join greetings cards, old photos and other paraphernalia from my kids in a box file marked ‘Ahhhh’.

Georgia remembers writing the card. She said she almost gave the game away right from the start when she began to write ‘Dear Dad’, then changed it to ‘Keven’ before correcting the typo. The word ‘explode’ also gave her problems, and ‘dignomight’ was clearly a word she had heard but never seen written down. All the same, she made a valiant attempt to spell it based on word constructions she was familiar with (sign, might).

Then came another touch of beautiful surrealism with the signature. Where on earth did ‘Mr Shape man’ come from? Why did he want me to explode with dynamite? Georgia says that her 7-year-old self was concerned that I might get unduly frightened by the death threat, so had filled each of the shapes with a smiley face. To soften the blow, as it were. (My appalling scan has cut off the actual smiles but they are there.)

She spelt the address slightly wrong, too, and New Malden has never been SW anything. She was remembering the SW12 postcode from our previous house in Balham. I like the added sense of peril provided by her choice of stamp. I believe that only someone with a keen and highly advanced sense of humour could have thought to create this postcard. It’s one of the reasons I am extremely proud of her, despite the odd misgivings over the sentiment in the message.

Three years later, Georgia was enjoying a 10th birthday party with several of her friends at a bowling alley in Kingston. In fact, all the alleys were occupied by partying children. At one point, the bowling was stopped and an MC-type character with a microphone  went up to each of the birthday boys and girls and got them to answer a few questions about their special day. One of the questions was “Well Lucy/Joe/Tabitha/Josh, if you could arrange for anyone at all to come and visit you at your home this afternoon, who would you choose?”

The kids thought for a bit then came up with names such as Christina, Robbie, Justin, Britney and Kylie. Then it became Georgia’s turn. “Anyone at all?” she asked.

“Yes. Anyone in the world. Anastasia, Cher, Eminem, Michael Jack…”

“I’d like Gary Larson,” said Georgia.

There are plenty of adults who don’t get The Far Side. Georgia was a fan when she was 10 years old.

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