Gleefully counting down.
I’m starting to realise that my posts aren’t funny anymore. Well, I didn’t set out to make my posts funny on purpose – I just naturally am.
My sense of fun, along with my sense of humour, left a couple of months ago. I even helped them pack. Said they need to go find their colour, I mean identity. They’re not black, like Edgar Allan Poe. Nor light blue, like Ellen Degeneres. Nor white, like Drew Carey. Nor purple, like all our talented local comedians/comediennes. What colour be sarcastic, bitch, intelligent and witty?
So where has my fun and humour gone? I really don’t know. No wait, don’t tell me. Yup. It’s right down there, resting beside last night’s supper, on my ample bum. I must have been eating my words because being funny seems really distasteful to my friends who have less reason to tolerate humour nowadays. Here I am, taking my life lightly (with vinegar and a pinch of salt) while the beds are refusing to smell like roses at some parts of the island.
I’ll be back, Me! You’ll see. I just need to go to some ridiculously expensive tourist destination to recuperate. Ho ho ho ho.