Last night at Robin's birthday party I was talking to a fellow blogger. We decided that we're new best friends, or long lost brother and sister who look nothing alike, or something like that due to eery similarities in our likes and hatred of certain pizza (go Papa John's!), movies (I'll say it: "Eff Harry Potter"), department stores (Dillards rules!) and The Brady Bunch (a ridiculously entertaining show). So today I give a shout out to my blog buddy "Mr. Blob."
He already took care of posting our shared beliefs on the beauty of Papa John's pizza with it's unique garlic butter sauce today. So I will blog about our shared beliefs of despising British "Humour" (oh yeah, I went there with that whacky British spelling).
OK, so here starts my rant. I have a college degree. I have a decent amount of life experience. I partake in most normal societal practices. I am not a clueless or unintelligent person. So I say this with thoughtful sincerity: I hate British humor.
Humor!? There's nothing humorous about it! I don't get it! Benny Hill, Mr. Bean, Monty Python...I hate them all. They're so "lettuce"! They are as bad as the lettuce under a big plate of "fish & chips" soaked in vinegar.
I have sincerely tried to watch them and to understand them, but I find them simply intolerable. For years I've pretended to be entertained while others laughed themselves into cardiac arrest over coconuts and stupid walks. But today I'm coming clean. I hate British humor and I'm not ashamed to say it, for there is at least one other like me. Thank you, Mr. Blob, for helping me clear the air on this issue.