I get bored a lot, so I like to do sociological experiments just to see how people react. Some folks call these "pranks", but I am an intellectual...so these are experiments. Also, you can't apply for grant money when you call them "pranks", and I like to keep my options open. For this particular prank...er, I mean experiment...I had decided to target two people who I had never seen laugh in my entire life. The goal was fairly good-natured: I was going to use funny t-shirts to bring some joy to the joyless.
My grandma is a great person. She had five kids with a husband who left during the Great Depression to "go find some money for us". Needless to say, my grandpa never came back. This woman made herself hard as nails to make ends meet for her family. I can respect that, especially since I wouldn't be here if she hadn't succeeded. She made an unfair trade, though, because this woman doesn't know what it means to be happy. If my funny t-shirts could make my grandma laugh, then they can make anyone laugh.
I knew right off the bat that something with physical comedy would be my best bet. Old people love seeing people fall down, get smacked, or hit with pies. I have no clue why, except that during the Depression the only thing to laugh at were when people would get stabbed outside your door for food. However, when I showed up to my gran's house with the best of my funny t-shirts, I could swear that she might have maybe smiled. No outright laughter, but perhaps the ghost of a smile. For someone as old as she is, that counts as outright laughter.
The next pin that must fall was this gun-toting maniac that I know of. I had a hard choice between him and this Baptist preacher I had heard of that was saying some pretty shady things that verged on support of those Westboro maniacs. It was a tough choice. I had the possibility of my funny t-shirts either getting me shot or damned for all eternity. I decided on just getting shot...there's a chance I could survive that.
I would say that this guy I planned on meeting hates me because I dated his daughter. I would say that, except that other guys have dated his daughter and not had to endure hateful, half-threats and fear tactics taught by the world's most aggressive military. I was already standing at the foot of his steps when I started thinking about how stupid this whole thing was and that funny t-shirts couldn't protect me from the pain this man was about to inflict on me.
I now know that funny t-shirts have the ability to make anyone laugh. I know this because I knocked on the door, and this gruff monster of a former marine opened it and politely asked, "What the hell do you want?" I asked him to look at my shirt, just as planned. He looked and laughed harder than anyone I have ever seen in my life. Apparently, fart jokes are the best call when cracking hard exteriors.
My grandma is a great person. She had five kids with a husband who left during the Great Depression to "go find some money for us". Needless to say, my grandpa never came back. This woman made herself hard as nails to make ends meet for her family. I can respect that, especially since I wouldn't be here if she hadn't succeeded. She made an unfair trade, though, because this woman doesn't know what it means to be happy. If my funny t-shirts could make my grandma laugh, then they can make anyone laugh.
I knew right off the bat that something with physical comedy would be my best bet. Old people love seeing people fall down, get smacked, or hit with pies. I have no clue why, except that during the Depression the only thing to laugh at were when people would get stabbed outside your door for food. However, when I showed up to my gran's house with the best of my funny t-shirts, I could swear that she might have maybe smiled. No outright laughter, but perhaps the ghost of a smile. For someone as old as she is, that counts as outright laughter.
The next pin that must fall was this gun-toting maniac that I know of. I had a hard choice between him and this Baptist preacher I had heard of that was saying some pretty shady things that verged on support of those Westboro maniacs. It was a tough choice. I had the possibility of my funny t-shirts either getting me shot or damned for all eternity. I decided on just getting shot...there's a chance I could survive that.
I would say that this guy I planned on meeting hates me because I dated his daughter. I would say that, except that other guys have dated his daughter and not had to endure hateful, half-threats and fear tactics taught by the world's most aggressive military. I was already standing at the foot of his steps when I started thinking about how stupid this whole thing was and that funny t-shirts couldn't protect me from the pain this man was about to inflict on me.
I now know that funny t-shirts have the ability to make anyone laugh. I know this because I knocked on the door, and this gruff monster of a former marine opened it and politely asked, "What the hell do you want?" I asked him to look at my shirt, just as planned. He looked and laughed harder than anyone I have ever seen in my life. Apparently, fart jokes are the best call when cracking hard exteriors.
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