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Posts Tagged ‘joke’

Recently, I was asked to write a column on what women want. I figured I’d check out what’s out there on the subject first.  And this is what I found. It’s so hilarious, I just had to put it up. Enjoy!

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Okay, I’m getting over my heartbreak over Rafa losing in the French Open. It’s taking time and I’m still in therapy but I have no doubt I’ll get over it before AEGON’s queen’s club championships. I would like to thank my support group RaFans Anonymous for aiding my recovery.

I’m back to doing the basics of what I do, which is write funny stuff. It’s important to do that before beginning the next one because you do get drained after you complete the previous one. So, if you don’t want a tired new novel you’d better brush up on your joke writing skills beforehand.

You know it’s real hard being a writer. It’s hard because people assume that you’ve got an easy life. As my sister says, “All you do is read, watch television and tinker away on your computer all day long. And, at the end of the day, you don’t even have to show anything for your effort.” Let’s see, low self esteem, manic depression, suicidal tendencies, raging alcoholism…life’s a ball.

It’s even harder if you’re funny writer. People just don’t take your problems seriously. Here I am standing on the ledge, ready to jump off and my neighbor pokes her head out of her window.  “Hey, Smita what you doing?” And I say, “I’m thinking of suicide.” And she says, “Oh, new joke?” And I say, “No, I’m thinking of committing suicide.” And she says, “How about a joke before you go?”

And the pressure! Every time I see my friends, they’re like, “Written a new chapter yet?” Do I ask them, “Hey doc, cut open a new heart lately?”

I complained about feeling drained to a friend the other day. And he suggested drugs. “Nothing quite like drugs to free your mind…give you the ultimate rush.”

I looked at him thinking he was suggesting party/recreational stuff like ecstasy. Nope, he was talking about hard core stuff. The kind you shoot up your nose or into your veins. I looked at him, aghast. Like I need a new addiction.

“That’s stupid,” I said. “Why can’t I just go drag racing if I want a rush?”

He looked at me as though I’ was nuts. “Let’s see. To go drag racing you need an open highway. The closest one is Bombay Poona Expressway But to get to that you’ve got to drive at least two hours through the city. That’s four litres. Then you need another ten litres once you get onto the highway. That’s 650 bucks for an hour of fun. For that amount you can get stoned for a week!”

Boy, it’s scary what the Taliban ouster has done to the global drug economy.

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