My problem is that I’m too good at coming up with questions in the Twofer that I’d like to see all you other people answer, not me, and then I get stuck having to think too much about things.

Nevertheless, I perservere:

What was the last thing to make you really laugh?

I can actually give you a detailed answer to this, except for a few things.

  1. The funniest stuff from your daily life never makes sense to anyone.
  2. Trying to explain those funny things to other people immediately ruins them for you
  3. Most of the really hilarious stuff is too crude to print even here.

All of this sounds like the worst kind of cop-out, the sort of annoyingly tantalizing-if-it-wasn’t-so-frustrating webjournal thing that people do all the time: “I’d like to tell you about this amazing, life-changing thing that happened to me last night, except it involves this one friend of mine who doesn’t want me writing about him on the internet. So, how about that Paradise Hotel, huh? What a bunch of jerks that are on that show, let me tell you!” I’d feel badly aobut it, except that it’s so absolutely conventional.

I can, though, give you some general situations that almost always make me laugh irrationally:

  • Getting Sham to laugh hard. She has an infectious, booming laugh that gets you going even if you have no idea what she’s on about. The easiest way that I can get it out of her is to try tickling her, though the price I pay is usually a knee to my midsection or an elbow thrown to my head/throat region. It’s worth it, though.
  • Watching a bad movie in mixed company. I remember once sitting in a theatre with Scott, watching Jean-Claude Van Damme hammering the last nails into his career with Universal Soldier: The Return, shouting jokes at the screen and cracking each other’s shit up. We would probably have been lynched if there was anyone else in there with us, but luckily our only company was a disturbingly intense man wearing a suit, who stayed until after the part where Van Damme escapes from the military compound and infiltrates a strip club to hijack their internet connection. Had we known that would be the highest point of the movie, we would probably have followed him out — as it was, I think it was the most fun I’ve ever had at the movies.
  • Occasionally doing something terribly clever. I know it sounds immodest, but sometimes I can sit and look at something I’ve written or made up and laugh to myself, which makes it all worth it. I may never know if I’ve entertained anyone else — and considering by the number of pages that link to me, it ain’t that many — but as long as I’m having a good time, then I’m doing all right.

The most recent hard laugh I’ve had came a few minutes ago, reading about people who look just like Duke Nukem. That’s some serious funny.

What was the last thing to make you really cry?

Aw, come on — I’m a guy. I’m not supposed to have to talk about this. As a sensitive, New Age guy, you have to let me suffer my grief in a quiet and dignified way that is in no way discussed afterwards. In return, I am expected to express my pain by brushing the back of my hand over my eyes once or twice, sighing deeply and looking mournful for a little while before bravely getting on with life. That’s the deal, people. I thought we settled all this during the 90s.

Okay, fine.

The last time I cried seriously was at a funeral, last year. It was cold and rainy and October, and we were sitting in the chapel while the oratory was delivered. I looked towards my friend in the front row, watching him quietly keep himself together as much as he could, and I felt incredibly sad for him.

And no, I didn’t have to wipe my cheeks four times, I told you. One wipe over my eyes, back of my hands, deep sigh, looking heartfelt and mournful.

That was the deal, God dammit.