Sunday, April 27, 2008

lolz and puns.

Some people hate puns. Harold Ross, the first editor of the New Yorker, refused to allow them in the magazine, and writers like James Thurber, Dorothy Parker and E.B. White loved to sneak ones past Ross that he didn't understand. This usually meant they were esoteric. I appreciate an esoteric pun every once in a while, but plain old vanilla puns, they're good enough for me.

I've heard puns called the lowest form of humor. Lower than slapstick? Please. Someone has some screwed up priorities if they can't see that puns can reach for higher heights than even the best slapstick can achieve.


Maybe it's just because I have a Y chromosome, but I think all duck tape/duct tape jokes are funny. Duct tape = comedy gold. Duck tape = even funnier.

Use in moderation. Until you know the effects of duck tape jokes on your metabolism, you should not operate heavy machinery.


And then there's puns and mild obscenities. They take me back to my childhood. Even the part of my childhood where Grumpy Old Mr. Beaver would yell at us "ALL YOU KIDS STAY OUTTA MY RIVER!"

Better puns a millionaire's money can't buy.

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