Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Something wicked.

It's not unique in this regard, I'm sure, but my sense of humor is something wicked. I like to use the graphic from my favorite t-shirt to describe it:
Usually dark, always absurd, sometimes offensive, and not so rarely macabre.

I imagine that if I really wanted/had the meanness in me, I could be an excellent asshole. Like, worst 'jerk around' material. I may not always say it out loud, and usually not to the person it concerns unless I feel comfortable/know they won't garrote me for it, but it's in there. A frothy, sometimes roiling pool of meanness and wit (usually lacking actual spite, but still...).


Like, I saw headlines last night about Beyonce's miscarriage. And while I perfectly sincerely questioned on twitter why anyone ever needed to know about it (I only just now saw that it was revealed through Jay-Z's song, not sleazy journalism) and while I also know perfectly well how traumatic and awful and heartbreaking the misfortune of miscarriage can be (my mother had one between myself and my little brother), I couldn't stop that deliciously vile part of my brain from churning away.

Since I read that headline about 12hrs ago, I've made no fewer than 5 references to it.

Sure, several were forced to test ways of making the reference, but a couple were legit insertions into conversation of this appalling popculture reference. Because--the vileness, the outrageousness, the darkness, the macabre character of that joke makes it much too tempting to make for my awful mind.


There are the usual jokes about minorities, which often I manage to stretch out justifyingly long; and friends' personal lives (those ones are the kind I do usually make in that person's presence); and also the cruel rephrasing of actual goings on in my life or others' ("Aw, honey, don't worry, you're weren't a rebound for him--just an intermission!"); and so on.

I'm not entirely sure why my brain is the way it is. I'm still pondering whether it's at least not acting out in spite or bitterness; that would make me feel guilty. So far, it seems to be in good, cheeky fun for me and my friends. In deliciously bad taste, but still good fun.for all.

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