Worst Joke Ever
So, I dreamed last night that I was visiting my family in Boise and my brother
told me a really funny, but really off-color joke having to do with a person's
constitution rights and the death of a horse. He called it the "worst joke
ever."
Well, I didn't want to forget it so I could re-tell it to my coworkers and
friends when I got back home, but I didn't have anything with which to write
it down, so I borrowed a notebook and typewriter-like thing from my mom, who
asked me not to waste much paper there because the notebook contained stories
and other things which were special to her. "No problem," I thought, "I'm an
excellent typist."
Well, it turns out the typewriter didn't have keys in the order I expected,
didn't have tactile feedback (used a flat sheet for the keyboard with no
"feel" for where the keys actually were) and had the letters really close
together. And the placement of the paper was weird, so I couldn't look at it
while I was typing. But I tried anyway to start typing hunt-and-peck method...
"W-O-R-S-T-Space-J-O..."
(Better check the paper to see how I'm doing because I think I missed the "O"
there..."
"Constitution ws"
"What the?" And then typewriter is the sort that doesn't allow you to erase
what you've already typed. No matter though-- it's only one ruined sheet.
It won't matter *too* much if I tear this one off and start again... (and
look, now the letters have changed places on the keyboard...)
"Horse was gonn..."
Weird... I'm sure I didn't type that.
"Cron ml..." (The paper now has a horse watermark on it, which would be
ironically funny if I hadn't typoed the joke already...)
"Blog with bl..." (The paper is now college-ruled...)
"Wconfe enneis..." (And now I've just typed over a story my mom wanted to keep
written back when she was doing church youth camp stuff that was already on
what I thought was a blank page...)
....
Anyway, it goes on like this for a good dozen or so pages, and no matter how
slowly and carefully I type the letters on the crappy, ever-changing keyboard
I somehow am unsuccessful each time of even writing the title of the joke on
the page, let alone the 3 or 4 paragraphs that make up the joke. All the
while, I'm making myself more and more embarrassed about how much of these
precious pages of my mother's that I'm wasting...
And then it occurs to me that I'm dreaming. And then I remember that when
a (sane) person is dreaming, written words will never appear the same way
twice (if you bother to go back and try to read the same thing twice.) Then
I realize the futility of what I'm trying to do.
And then I wake up, somewhat chagrined.
The joke? I don't remember the one about the horse and a person's
constitutional rights anymore. But it occurs to me that at least my
subconscious got a good laugh at my own expense.