When I’m not too busy eating delicious pie or screaming about horrible zombies, (which, as you know, are my two main hobbies in life) you can find me working on my basement renovation. This is a serious activity, and as such, does not typically contain - or contribute to - humourous events. That’s not to say that pie and zombies are not serious. In fact, they are two of the three most serious things the human race has ever encountered.
When your surroundings are not funny, like today, you can simply close my blog and read another. However, when my surroundings are not funny, such as when I am working in my basement, I am forced to entertain myself.
I repeatedly hear this story from my old friend BPZ (Baseball Player Zombie from 2005’s Zombie walk). I vaguely remember it, as intoxication hampered my memory retention that night. However, the story goes something like this:
BPZ, a little inebriated, was attempting to hold a conversation with me regarding noxious gas clouds threatening the lives of cosmonauts. Okay, no, our conversation wasn’t about Russian space farts. In fact, I am pretty sure I wasn’t even involved in the witless conversation at all. But BPZ tried to include me in it. Much to his disappointment, and curiosity, I could not be convinced to join the discussion.
You see, I was too busy laughing my head off, in the corner, by myself. When confronted by BPZ, I had to admit: I was telling myself jokes. Dead baby jokes. You know the ones. They’re terribly inappropriate.
When working alone in the basement, I continue my tradition of self-entertainment by whistling and singing songs in my head. But you won’t catch me singing such ditties as Beyonce’s newest piece of crap, “if you like it then you should’ve put a ring on it...” or Ms. Spears’ unlistenable, “all eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus...”
Nope. I like classics.
Come visit me any day of the week and you will find me thinking, whistling and humming “Who puts the future in your hands? Robotix, Robotix! Who gives you robots to command? Robotix, Robotix!” as well as “You run, you slide, you hit the jump and take a dive!” Not to mention the classic do-do-dodododo-do-do-do-do circus tune. American's MAY be able to view it here. Us shivering Canadians are not permitted.
Yes, that’s what it takes to entertain me. Jingles like, “Eight hundred five eight eight, two three hundred, Empire today!” not only help to pass the time, but also distract me from the wretched zombies clawing at my windows. And more importantly, remind me of who to call for carpet when I finish my renovation.