Today I am grateful for a sense of humor in others. Mine is perfectly fine, wicked and intact, but I worry about some of the people who comment on Facebook posts. Geeze, lighten up.
This morning on a site I follow called Fsensitivity, this was posted. “Auto correct has become my worst enema” so I shared it. I think that’s really, really funny. Especially since I was commenting about my toddler granddaughter using my iphone and wrote she shows such good “seductive reasoning”. Of course, I meant “deductive” but her dad has now declared the typo his new favorite term. It’s funny. See, I can be funny even when I’m clueless. Now there’s a gift.
The use of “enema” when you mean to say “enemy” is funny, too. But some people don’t think so. Some people sent me cures for constipation. One person went so far as to tell me to collect fallen palm tree leaves, chop them up fine in a food processor, add water and drink it. “It makes a great laxative.” I bet! So does eating a jeep, like Klinger on M.A.S.H., or chewing on tree bark like Yule Gibbons in that old commercial. But I’m not doing those either.
I thought that person must be joking because I don’t know him/her so I can only hope so. But then I started getting other advice on my perceived bowel situation and realized we in social media have gone insane with advice! This isn’t the first time, either.
Sometimes I write a clever post, as some are, joking about one issue or another and then get a diatribe from someone giving me advice on why whatever I was talking about happened and how I can prevent it in the future. Way to suck the life out of humor. It’s like my writing was a boil on my butt I was trying to get rid of. It’s not. There is no room. I have enough on my butt without it. And I would never try to get rid of my writing.
I don’t have a palm tree so I better go harvest some greens from the holly bush before it’s covered in snow. Ouch! Please don’t send me any more cure-alls. My plumbing can’t take it. It’s humor, folks. Just humor. Sheesh!