I Know You Are, But What Am I?

You know how when you were younger, you thought that when you became an adult you would know it?  Like something would automatically change within you that made you start acting like a grown up?  I’m turning 42 this week and I’m still waiting for that to happen.

I feel like an adult in approximately three situations:

1. When I buy postage stamps.

2. When I get my teeth cleaned.

3. When I get the oil changed in my car on time.

That’s pretty much it.

I can’t even go into very serious meetings and not feel like a tween who stole their mom’s smart pantsuit and is just wearing it around pretending to be 90s-era Madonna, who by the way, is my favorite Madonna incarnation.  The structured suits.  The bold red lip.  That weird lace shirt in the Vogue video that made it look like she had Barbie boobs.  That was the decade where Madonna truly became an icon.  80s Madonna?  Pop star.  90s Madonna?  BOSS.

I bring it up because someone just said, “I heard Publix has a special on boneless chicken thighs this week” and my first thought was, “I heard your face has a special on boneless chicken thighs this week.”

When someone asks, “Hey, can you hold that elevator door for me?”, my first thought is, “I don’t know, can I?”

I’ve had to literally leave a room on occasion because someone introduces themselves to me and their name is something like “Rod Burns” and I physically cannot stop laughing like Beavis and Butthead and I have to pretend I’m having a coughing fit.

It’s like every day of life I’m Dorothy just tra-la-la-ing along through the poppy fields in the Wizard of Oz, but the poppies are dick jokes that make me pass out from laughing.  And the Cowardly Lion is a dick joke.  And the Scarecrow is a dick joke.  Toto, tin man, the witch, monkeys – all dick jokes.  And the camera man, the on-set caterer, and the marketing rep at the movie studio – dick jokes.  I figure at this point, if the interior dialogue that acts like a 12 year old asshole is still the biggest part of my thought process, it’s a personality trait that’s pretty much set in stone.

I wonder sometimes how this came to be.  Is it because I watched Pee Wee’s Big Adventure too many times as a kid?  Is it because I didn’t have kids?  I would think having kids would kind of force you to start thinking like an adult, but who knows?

One of my favorite people, my friend Eric, has a kid and a similar personality to me with regard to comedy, which makes him 100% fun to hang out with, except for the next day when you feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach because he made you laugh so hard the night before.

Also because he actually punched you in the stomach.

Okay, not really, but I know the image of him telling a joke and then immediately punching you in the stomach is probably making him laugh right now, and making that guy laugh is like giving a birthday present to yourself.

Eric is also the owner of the funniest line I’ve ever heard in my entire life.  Ever.  Hands down.

(Sophia Petrillo voice):  Picture it.  Somewhere around 2008 maybe?  Eric is sitting on the back porch with me and a big group of friends at a house party.  Someone asks if anyone wants to leave the party to go to the goth club one town over.  A friend smirks and says, “No thanks, I’ve already gone through my compulsory goth phase.”

Eric looks at friend, then looks away in the distance towards the night sky and takes a long drag off a cigarette and casually says, “Your haircut would beg to differ” and then exhales the smoke.

I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in my entire life.  Not before then, not since then.  It was like watching Michelangelo hit an uncut block of marble with a hammer one time and the statue of David magically appearing when the dust settled.

Also, in case you still have any doubt, he currently has a personalized license plate that says “LUV2BM”.

You can follow Eric on Twitter at: @ericsmellsfunny or you can find him at any Flanigan’s eating a Banzai Brownie.  Unless that asshole Chrissy is serving, and then she’ll just take his order and then not put it into the kitchen for fifteen minutes and then come back and say the kitchen is closed.

Go forth.  Find kindred dick joke spirits.  Make the world a whole lot dick-jokier.  I know you all have it…inside you.

Heh heh.

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