Dark humor

All posts in the Dark humor category

I KNOW

Published January 4, 2020 by Nan Mykel

What the hell do I know?  Not F—ing much.  Do I really know that 1 + 1 = 2?  Often 1 + 1 = 1.  Worst case, 1 + 1 = 0.

How about that “the truth shall set you free?” ….or in the looney bin.

That you really loved me?  1 + 7 = 1

That God loves me?  Who? Loves? Who?

That might makes right?  Wrong.

That pacifism is the way to go?  And go, go, go, gone.

It’s easier to love pets than humans?  Depends upon the pet, not the human.

What to do now?  Better search for beauty again.

 

As I was waking up this morning…

Published April 26, 2018 by Nan Mykel

As I woke up this morning in my usual hypnopompic  fantasy state I was thinking about the evils of capitalism–corporations personified by the Supreme Court,  taking away tips from waiters, taking away overtime from workers,  taking lives away from immigrants, planned obsolescence…

HEY!  That’s what God did!  Planned Obsolescence!!!   (That’s my funny)….

BUT also there’s this item, of several from the news:

Layoffs set to begin next month at Carrier plant Trump struck deal with …thehill.com/…/339036-layoffs-set-to-begin-next-month-at-carrier-plant-trump-struck-… Jun 22, 2017 – The Carrier plant in Indianapolis that President Trump convinced to stay open late last year will lay off more than 600 employees beginning next month … In addition, the $16 million that the company promised to invest in the facility as part of Trump’s deal will go toward automation in the factory, which would …

Dark Humor

Published November 27, 2017 by Nan Mykel

https://nanmykel.com/2017/01/19/repeating-line/

(Now see, that’s my computer talking back to me.  I DID NOT TYPE THAT LINE!)

I’m going to start over with MY CURRENT WORDS! — 11/27/2017

I’ve been told I have a warped [unkind?] sense of humor.  Because my daughters didn’t report on how my ex’s memorial service went, I decided it was so horrible they didn’t want me to know, to “protect” me. So I sat down and to prove I COULD take any kind of bad news, I gave an example of what might have happened and that I wasn’t wiped out by it.  I wrote an e-mail that said,

“Let’s see what happened:  Seven Quakers showed up. Bob came and stood up and told his father off for everything bad and then walked out. Ann left in tears. Jill and Alice stayed. The widow Beth and two of her relatives attended. You never told Polly Evarts about the service but she found out and was there. She tried to be supportive to Jill  but Jill was too shy and crying too much to talk to her. Bob snarled when he spoke to you and his plane came and returned to Cinn. 8 hours later. He stayed in a motel. He would not allow my name to be mentioned, or if one tried he said “La la l a la.” There was a “wake” consisting of iced tea and brownies.  Beth brought my ex’s  favorite pet and tried to get someone to adopt him. My daughters went home and decided it would upset me too much to know the truth so they put off reporting on the service, trying to distract me with thoughts of Molly’s birthday.  End of story except when I had two weekends of “intestinal upset” I am still working on cleaning up.

See? I don’t need a report on things. I can work it out all by myself. Probably fairly accurate.
Love anyway,
Nan”

_________________

That earned me a phone call reaming me out (what I had left in me) and telling me what a disgusting, destructive, horrible, inappropriate e-mail that was, why did I do it, and not to go writing letters to ANYONE (assuming my mind had suddenly either failed or been posessed by the devil).  I was chastened but then the more I thought about it the less ashamed I felt. By now I’m into thinking it’s funny again.  (Names were fictitious only in this posting).

_________________

Some time ago I re-published someone’s dark joke on my RELIEF/REFRESHING page:

After stopping for drinks at an illegal bar, a Zimbabwean bus driver found that the 20 mental patients he was supposed to be transporting from Harare to Bulawayo had escaped.  Not wanting to admit his incompetence, the driver went to a nearby bus stop and offered everyone waiting there a free ride. He then delivered the passengers to the mental hospital, telling the staff that the patients were very excitable and prone to bizarre fantasies. The deception wasn’t discovered for 3 days.  (From the 2004 Darwin  Awards?)

________________

Making fun of OLD AGE is something many of us don’t approve of but do it anyway (at times).  Last week I got a “Happy Thanksgiving” e-mail and I thought sorrowfully that my friend’s mind was going, that she didn’t know Thanksgiving was a week away?  Then I  took my garbage out and saw the entire parking lot for my condo was empty, and there was no traffic on the roads. (Really, I had gone out to also put a letter in the mail box). Since I didn’t have anything to eat in my condo but out of date cans, I called Bob Evans to order a take-out of their beef vegetable soup. No deal, only Thanksgiving specials. So I grabbed my purse and a book to read and headed out to Wendy’s. As son as I clicked he door behind me I realized I had left my keys inside. I had no cell phone with me, I had not dressed warmly enough, there was no one in the building, even my car key was inside the condo. Boy did I feel cold and sorry for myself. Then it occurred to me that I had never used my small 4×8 patio’s door and it was worth a try so voila, I gave thanks to my guardian angel. Then Wendy’s was closed, as was McDonald’s (can you believe it? I couldn’t). So I ended up savoring what Speedway had to offer for Thanksgiving dinner. But I couldn’t read  my book, so I brought my bag of holiday cheer home and finished my book at home. Home for the holiday.

_________________

Speaking of death (I know we weren’t), there’s the old story  that goes like this:

An Old One:

There was a great loss today in the entertainment world. The man who wrote the song “Hokey Pokey” died. What was really horrible was that they had trouble keeping the body in the casket. They put his left leg in…Well, you know he rest.

Awaiting Compost

Published May 21, 2017 by Nan Mykel

The original heading for this post was going to be “Plateau,” but then I saw that first line of my last “poem” and think it’s better.  This entry will touch upon several topics, so either bear with me or go away.

PROFILE : My current (former?) profile says I’m not through growing yet. I’ve re-thought that.

When after an uncomfortable (well, some of it) thousand-mile trip you finally arrive at the end of the line only  to realize your ticket was for the wrong destination, what then?  Is it your imagination that someone whispers “Gotcha!”?

Despite what the scientists predict,  my first organ to go was my heart. It turned to stone. My last surgeon said, showing my daughter my extracted mitral valve, it was hard as a pebble from a brook.  On to another, more current metaphor for me, while awaiting compost:

I am lying on a vast bed of empty ice maker cubes (remember, from the old refrigerators?) Trying to be helpful, I’m sure, someone puts such a tremendous pressure on me (steamroller?) that my body is now comprised of hundreds of cubes, almost like building blocks. Now I’m really ready to compost.

BUT WAIT JUST A F***ing MINUTE!  Building blocks! Like in days of yore, before my post-partum deression at 81!  Whee!

 

 

 

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