Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Happy Birthday to Me
On Saturday, a bunch of people are going to wish me a happy birthday on Facebook. I am just that kind of guy. What kind of guy? Loved. I am just loved. By people. By people with birthday calendars in their Facebook and two seconds to spare. But, here's the thing. They don't need to wish me happy birthday. My birthday happiness is preordained.
GALIFIANAKIS BACK ON SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE.
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4 comments:
Even Bill Clinton finds him unfunny. May you always have awful taste in comedy.
So much to unpack here. Why are you anonymous? Are you Scooter Libby? Does Bill Clinton have bad taste in comedy? Hence, "[e]ven Bill Clinton finds him unfunny"? Should I be embarrassed that I think someone is funny even though Bill Clinton has spoken on this subject and delivered the final word? Also, what are you talking about? When did Bill Clinton make this proclamation? Google says never, but I know you'd never lie to me--so, link please. What else is awful about my taste in comedy? I mean, if I'm habitually finding unfunny things funny, I'd like some more examples, so I can right the ship. And why do you wish for this personal failing on my part -- finding the unfunny funny -- to continue into perpetuity? Help me, Anonymous. I want to have better taste. I want to understand Shouts & Murmurs. I want to revel in dick jokes. I want to stop being an embarrassment to my friends and family. How can we make this happen? Should I Netflix a whole bunch of Mind of Mencia discs, stat?
HELP ME. PLEASE.
chillax, old man.
HOW CAN I CHILLAX WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S FUNNY ANYMORE???
I mean, I don't even know how I feel about Sinbad now. Yesterday, I thought he was a demi-god. Anonymous has gotten in my head. SO, E, YOU CHILLAX WITH ALL YOUR TELLING ME TO CHILLAX.
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