You know, you people take me way too darn seriously.
Just the other day I had some girl come up to me and tell me "you know, you don't have to be so sad all the time!" Well heck, if anyone took last week's column that seriously I seriously have to question how serious they are about more serious topics.
Because to quote John Wayne Gacy "I am a fellow that just loves to kid and joke around." I am not sad. Enraged, maybe. Certainly disappointed, but not sad.
I just love to try and spout off humor that almost always falls seriously flat. Being serious all the time is too stressful, and after a while people stop taking you seriously. You end up in serious trouble with your boss, landlord or potential life partner. It can become a serious issue.
But in all sincerity and seriousness, I seriously want to tell you about all the good, juicy bits that get censored from my column. Maybe that is why the humor sometimes falls so seriously flat.
You ask me, "is he being serious?" Well yes I am very, very serious about this.
Since I am censored for very serious reasons involving serious issues concerning the rising tide of vulgarity that seeps from my seriously distorted brain pan, I am going to do my serious best in a roundabout way to try and make clear to you the kinds of subjects I just cannot write about (or take seriously).
For starters, there is a certain act that involves a very natural eruption of "internal pressures" the likes of which can often cause offense or outright revulsion to this in close proximity to the eruptee. This is often accompanied by an incredible "raspberry" type sound that, while being absolutely hilarious, reminds us that God in His infinite wisdom really had no idea about anything when he finally up and zapped us into existence.
Hey, I am being dead serious here!
Second, there are several different cross-sections of society that seem to deserve a sort of "sacred cow" status, who endlessly rant about how all of us are damned to eternal perdition and then turn around and whine about us giving just 10, 20 or 100 dollars to 'em. These folks are usually on TV doing this stuff, but I can't touch the subject.
Thirdly, there is a sort of unnatural act that involves several different breeds of animal life and a jar of Vlassic pickles, but I think you all get the idea on that one so I will just close by saying Derrick, you left your book bag in the back of Rik Henry's car.
Oh, and I can't talk about oral sex either.
Write to Ben at firstname.lastname@example.org.