Funny/Not Funny

Funny things don't happen to me anymore - this is probably why I haven't been posting so much on this blog. These days just normal stuff happens, basically always. Did you know that over 80% of the funny things I write about never actually happened?

Like that time I wrote about the 70 year old Aboriginal guy who had overdosed on heroin and still managed to escape from RPA and the Police? That wasn't actually me doing those things, I just heard it on the Police scanner at my Old Job.

And like how I once implied that some fellows that Frank Sartor played footy with were dicks because they had suffered some pretty horrible abuse in the past? That isn't true, I've never met them, it was just a guess.

See, nothing funny ever happens in real life - I just made you think it did with my clever writing. If I had had this blog in The Day, there would have had some extremely funny things to write about. 

For example, there was this one day in high school where an argument in recess ended in an agreement to have an informal debate at lunch, exchanging insult for insult. It was me and Will versus Dean and Phil. I didn't back myself impromptu, in the traditional 'yo mama' way of the creoles, so I wrote about 10 pages of notes in my school diary, reserving some extra harsh things in case.

I was a little nervous, being the underdog side, and received some pretty heavy blows early on: 'you have the same haircut as your mum,' a particular one I recall. I was quick to bite back however, drawing first blood:

'Dean pretended he was drunk at Camille Mortlock's party in the Christmas holidays between year 9 and year 10 and he punched a car and broke his hand! And he was wearing a full matching Champion tracksuit!'

I can't remember much more of the abuse I suffered or dished out, perhaps I have blocked out all the harsh things that were said in front of a playground full of people. But everyone laughed, so it must have been funny. Not like today - today is boring.