Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

3.8

I have a confession to make: I don't make puns. I have not once within memory sat down in my brain and gone "Hm. Now, a pun would be a thing to include in this sentence." So I haven't. I don't make puns. Can't. Physically impossible.

And yet I do it all the time.

Puns make me feel stupid because I don't see them immediately. Maybe it's because I don't think about the sounds of words, or maybe because I know words well enough that I always think the word and not the other word, or maybe because I don't know words well enough (but that seems like a far stretch--haha said the girl in gymnastics oho aren't I clever). In any case, I usually sit there for a good three seconds before I get a pun. It's not like I'm thinking about it and then BAM I get it. It's more like I just don't get it for three seconds. Literally no sentient thought for three seconds, mind you. None.

And yet:

"Haha, this guy sued for peas. Get it?"
"Ugh, that's pungent."
"Haha! ROBBY YOU MADE A PUN."
"What? No I--crap. Pungent." *hangs head*

3 comments:

  1. This somehow reminds me of the people who can make anything sound dirty.

    Anyway, shall you and puns be friends?

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  2. Ah, Ah! There was a really good pun a few weeks ago on one of the worksheets Mrs. Gass gave her kids! Oh, OH! It was terrible! I didn't get it for the longest time! (But then I got to explain it to the kids.) Oh! Oh! Why can't I remember?! Something about feelings and gloves . . . Oh. Ach. Oh well.

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