I’m sorry to have to do this. I did it last week, when I never got around to writing that post about procrastination (and obviously, I haven’t got around to doing that this week either).
This time, I’m afraid the problem is even more acute. I’m warning you now, this is not a funny post. There are no laughs. Definitely not any chuckles. Not even any slight giggles. Look closely, I promise you – you won’t find any.
This seems like a pretty bad thing to do from my angle. After all, humour is my schtick. I’m meant to be going for the giggles and the chuckles and the belly laughs. And everybody tells me that my blog is a big part of some thingumajig called my platform, which I’m meant to be using to help build my brand. So if my brand is meant to be funny stuff, that’s exactly what I should be doing right here.
Except I’ll tell you the problem – it’s hard. Damn hard. Here I am, at the end of a weekend, with a busy week of work ahead, and I’m meant to just sit down at the computer and do funny. Sorry folks – not gonna happen. Believe me, it’s not that easy to switch it on. Books is one thing. Every laugh, hell even every slight smile is the result of days and weeks of agonising over the words to use to get it exactly right. On a Sunday night, do you reckon I’m going to be agonising over this post? You gotta be kidding me.
That’s the thing with us writers of humour. We’re not necessarily the funny ones. We’re not the people who would get up on stage and do jokes (and believe me, if I got up on stage, it would not be funny for anyone involved). We’re the ones in the background, wrestling with the words. We’re the ones who, take our time to work on things. If I was a stand-up and I had to deal with hecklers, you’d have to come back in three months time to hear my brilliant riposte.
And it’s funny how people forget that. Years ago, I went to a comedy writer’s conference. One of the speakers was the organiser of the Melbourne Comedy Festival (the third biggest in the world if you didn’t know). She went on and on about how great the festival was for performers, not realising that the people sitting before her in stony silence were actually not performers at all. Gong!!
So there you have it. Not funny tonight. Apologies for anyone who came here tonight expecting a barrel of mirth. Maybe next week – but then again probably not.
And if you did find yourself laughing while you read this, I take absolutely no responsibility for that. It was clearly someone else’s fault.
Have a great week.
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