Page 126: Wicked!

"Oh, Clarice, your problem is you need to get more fun out of life." -Dr. Lector, The Silence of the Lambs

WARNING: This blog contains attempted humor that some people may find offensive. If you have a delicate constitution, please click over to these pictures of stuffed teddy bears.

Okay, now that we've gotten rid of the sourpusses, we can get on with it. I can't help that I have an extremely wicked sense of humor -- God made me this way. Ironic that God could create such wickedness, isn't it? But I suppose "that's just the way He rolls," proving that there must be a cosmic humor of divine proportions.

Ever since I was a tadpole, inappropriate and over-the-line-humor have left me in stitches. And nothing delights the wicked more, of course, than spreading wickedness. Getting an entire group laughing at something rather wrong has unnatural appeal to me. It's sort of like the endorphin high runners get, but with a lot more maniacal glee and explosive laughter.

I have only laughed to the point of death once in my life, and it happened during my college years at the beautiful mountain filled Baptist encampment of Glorieta, New Mexico. We were the featured band there, and one late night, giddy from all our performances, my pal Mark and I were sitting on the front porch of our bunkhouse at 4a. (That's Mark on the left, along with my old roommate Mike, on board our tour bus.) We were talking into the wee hours about the very serious matters of life, death, philosophy, and theology. Mark is gold, one of the best guys you could ever meet, and also pretty seriously minded -- the perfect guy to sit around with under the stars and talk about the Universe. And then out of the blue, Mark said, "Do you know what they call a herd of masturbating cattle?" I looked at him, perplexed. "Beef Stroganoff!" he asserted. Did Mark just say that? I was instantly in stitches, riotous laughter that turned into a roaring fit that started to hurt some ten minutes later, when I really, really thought I needed an ambulance and ended up literally ROTFLOL, Rolling On The Floor, Laughing Out Loud. In pain. I have never laughed so hard in my life.

Which brings us, Gentle Browsers, to the delicate topic of "funeral humor."

Oh, it's so wrong, but yes, funerals are sort of Prime Time for the humor-twisted. (Hey, if people aren't laughing during my funeral, I've clearly failed at life.) A funeral is the perfect time to get tickled, for all the wrong reasons. Mom Bess and my Ohio sisters were headed into a funeral a few years ago, and since they have my same "Bad Gene" humor, I knew I could get them in a precariously giggly state right before it started. I lobbed my call in as they walked up the church sidewalk. "Mom! Mom, put me on speaker. I want to read you guys something. It's very important! Okay, Mr. Google helped me find this... THE list of the Top Things NOT To Do at a Funeral. Are you listening? Do NOT do these things during the service…"

1. Stand up in the middle of the service and announce that Grandpa wants an air conditioner down there.
2. Walk around telling people that you've seen the will and they're not in it.
3. Strike up a conversation with the older people attending the service, and at one point of the conversation say in a loud, raspy voice "You're NEEEEXXXTTT!"
4. When no one's looking, slip plastic vampire-teeth into the mouth of the deceased.
5. Tie cans behind the hearse and shoe polish "JUST DIED!" on the back window.
6. Walk into service and say, loudly, "what's that SMELL?"
7. Tell the undertaker that your pooch just died and ask if he can sneak him into the coffin.
8. Ask if anyone wants to see the old "saw the casket in half" trick.
9. Wear an “I’m with stupid" t-shirt, especially if you’re a pallbearer.
10. Loudly rebut the claims of the eulogists… "Lucy cared about everyone…" "NO she didn't!"
11. Put super-glue on the lips of the deceased right before the widow's final kiss.
12. Tie a fishing line to a five dollar bill, and see who's really mourning and who just wants to be five bucks richer.

By the time I got to "slip vampire teeth," I could barely talk amidst peals of laughter, and the giggles on the other end of the phone told me my mission was accomplished. I was wickedly pleased. "My work here is done. Please give my respects to Martin's family. Toodles!"

An hour later, my phone rang. It was Jennifer. "I hope you're happy, Mr. Smart Aleck. Mom was shaking during the entire service, tears down her face, and everybody thought she was crying, but she was holding in laughing herself silly. And every time somebody stood up to say something nice about Martin, Tracie would slip me a look and shake her head 'uh uh.' I thought Mom was going to lose it. "

"Then," Tracie interrupted, "Jennifer held up the entire car procession to the cemetery when she had a Pee Emergency 2 minutes before we left the church -- and our car was the first in line. The entire procession had to sit there waiting on her to get back. She had the car keys or we would have left her. Awful!"

"You all are terrible," Mom intoned. "The only good thing I can say about all this is that Martin would have thought all of this was very, very funny. In fact, I think it's safe to say...he probably would have died laughing...!"