What did the wife hippopotamus say to her husband after he told her she was getting fat?
Don't be so hippo-critical!
Don't ask me why, but I feel like Kiera will particularly enjoy that joke. Apart from the fact that she can drive, is an almost-3rd-year medical student and has a larger vocabulary than all the members of my family combined, we're about equal on the immaturity scale.
Then again, I could be wrong. I haven't had much luck in the humour department lately. Take what happened at Julia's mum's 50th last saturday night, for example. Nathan had ordered a bouquet of flowers, which came wrapped in a what can only be described as a blue tin-foil vase.
Blue tin-foil vase.
Needless to say, Nathan experienced some embarrassment. To lift his spirits, I tried to convince him that it wasn't tacky at all, but very post-modern. I can't remember the conversation exactly. It went something like this:
Jacki: Wow, that flower arrangement sure is...
Nathan: Don't pretend. It's terrible.
Jacki: No! No, it's very...post-modern.
(Nathan gives me a weird look)
Jacki: Whenever you don't understand something, just say it's post-modern. No one will question it, and you'll sound really smart.
Nathan: (Doubtfully) Uh huh...Well, it was either that one, or one with red roses and red gerbras wrapped in red tin-foil.
Jacki: Oh, man. That sounds like Satan's bouquet!
What?! How could anyone not laugh at that? Satan's bouquet! That's hilarious! I've never been so witty in all my life! Maybe they just didn't get it. Here, I'll explain:
Satan is red.
The bouquet was red.
See how that works?
Just for good measure, I kept directing the conversation back to Nathan's almost-flowers, and repeating the line about them being Satan's bouquet. I mean it.
I said it like seven times. Nothing.
This does not bode well for me - it's said that girls are either pretty or funny, and at this stage in my life it would appear that I am neither.
All I have to say is, thank goodness I have a mother willing to pay people to be friends with me.