The dos are responsible for all the wars in the world, not the don’ts
I’m not the kind of writer to wave William Wallace quotes around willy nilly. If you like your stories seething with silliness, go join your local Humoristics Anonymous group. You’ll find no such tomfoolery here.
In my early teens, I started feeling a tingling sensation downstairs. I also felt it upstairs. The feeling transcended all human experience known to me at the time. The more I embraced this feeling, the more enjoyable the experience became. No, it wasn’t the onset of puberty, you dirty-minded deviant. It was, in fact, my discovery of creative writing.
This creativity has taken me down a path I very nearly missed.
Back to the story. I’m not going to pretend I fuss over retaining my Top Writer status. My life is far too busy for such shenanigans. I’m normally up to my neck in stuff I’m either trying to avoid taking responsibility for or outrightly denying any involvement in. Believe me when I tell you, doing sh*t like that all day, is hard work.
Anyway, the other day I was browsing Medium while trying my best to avoid all the big pubs (as a Brit, I shouldn’t be avoiding pubs), when I noticed I had, in fact, actually lost my humor. Just as I was beginning to think that a certain ex-wife had finally got her way, it hit me like that time I walked past a farm, and I saw a sign that said: ‘Duck, eggs’ and thinking ‘that’s a funny place for a comma’.
See the thing is, my parents brought me up to always see the funny side of life. As a young adult, I developed somewhat of a dark sense of humour. Some say a dark sense of humour is an early sign of dementia. Some say a dark sense of humour is an early sign of dementia. So anyway, my parents’ advice was obvious to everyone apart from me. Shouts of, “Lee, don’t commit to a clown”, “Lee, don’t collude with a comedian”, and the one I dismissed the most to my detriment, “Lee, whatever you do, don’t fornicate with a fool”
All these parental pearls of wisdom fell on deaf ears. Like Trump at an Equality and Diversity workshop, I just wasn’t listening. And add to this, the fact that back in the day I was also a full-time idiot. Don’t worry, I can take it, I’m old school.
Did I take my loss of humor personally? Of course not, I’m not that kind of idiot. Plus, I’ve got far more pressing matters to cope with.
“Face as much as you can in life with humour. It helps. No joke”
Lee Azeva-who?
Originally published in Medium publication The Swipe, 19th January 2020.
Lee Serpa Azevado 