It's no laughing matter

.
There’s a club in Eastbourne called The Screaming Blue Murder Comedy Club. At least I think that’s what it’s called. Odd name really. Murder and comedy don’t normally go together! Having said that the compare did say to one of the acts ‘go knock ‘em dead’


So yes, I went to the SBMCC with a group of friends. Well, I can’t tell you – I’ve never heard bad language like it. And some of the so-called jokes were really rude. At least I assume they were jokes. I didn’t find anything particularly funny about them, but then jokes aren’t really my thing, not ‘my bag’ as they say.

Trouble is I don’t always get jokes. Actually that’s an understatement. I rarely get jokes.

For example or par exemple as they say in France. Oh, that reminds me, did you see Keith’s blog about on-line translators? Well I used one of them just then so I probably didn’t say ‘for example’ at all! He used to have a translator in the sidebar of his blogamy-jig but I noticed that it disappeared a couple of days ago. I guess he was worried about how his posts were translating!

Where was I? Oh yes. Jokes. I was going to give you an example of the problems I sometimes encounter in the hope you will tell me that I’m not as stupid as my friends think I am.

One of our group of mates works at the local crematorium. One night when we were all at the rub-a-dub (that’s cockney for pub by the way) I joked that she’s lucky she doesn’t work in 'dying trade', although hers was a bit of a 'dead-end job'. I thought that was quite amusing but the others just groaned.

Well that night she invited us all to her staff summer party. It was to be a barbecue at the crematorium. The others all laughed their heads off! Ok, I know it’s a little ironic having a barby in the crem, but not very funny. In an effort to join in I made what I thought was a mildly amusing comment. I simply wondered if we would be using the cremator thingy to cook our food to save that all that fuss trying to get the charcoal to light. Once again I was laughing and they were not.

Then John said ‘I’m not putting my meat in there – I’m fussy where I put my sausage’. And they laughed so much that Sandy started choking on her wine and John said she was having a coughing fit. Afterwards I realised he actually said ‘coffin’ fit, but even then I didn’t find it particularly funny.

Do you see what I mean?

Oh I just thought of something. The other day I said I would be unveiling the painting of me that Giggle’s done at the weekend. I didn’t forget, I just decided to use it in my piece for True Colours Thursday so you’ll just have to wait a couple more days.

So back to the crematorium thing. I did actually have the last laugh because I suddenly remembered a joke I’d heard some time ago.

There was an old man who always stirred a spoon of gunpowder into his cup of tea. One day he died and at his funeral were his wife, three children, six grandchildren and a fifty foot crater where the crematorium used to be.

We all laughed at that!
.