The Lowest Form Of Humor

Me: “So you know how I referred my friend to our doctor?”

Doug: “Yea.”

Me: “Well, she told me this story where she went in to see him and she made a pun about something and he looked her dead in the face and said, ‘Puns are the lowest form of humor.'”

Doug: “Oh. Oh my God. Those are fighting words to you and your family.”

Me: “Right?! So I thought about it- I really went over all my past interactions with this man and I realized I’ve never seen him laugh. Like, I guess I had never noticed because back when I went to him I was severely concussed so I wasn’t trying to bust out my comedy-”

Doug: “‘Bust out’ your comedy??”

Me: “But I took Billie there last week and he didn’t even react to Billie’s humor. And, like, how do you not laugh at a 9 year old who makes geriatric death jokes? That’s hysterical.”

Doug: “I mean, maybe he’s more subtle–”

Me: “Nah, dude. He’s got no sense of humor. So now, of course, I have to test this theory.”

Doug: “Oh no.”

Me: “I wanna see how far I can take this. Billie’s got an appointment next week so I’ma start workshopping my best stuff now.”

Billie: “YES! YES MOM! IM IN. WHAT WE DOING?”

Me: “Well, I don’t know–”

Billie: “I got this! I’ma crack all the jokes.”

Doug: “This might not end well.”

Billie: “I’ll be like, ‘HEY BUDDY!'”
*sticks butt in air and pulls down pants*
“‘CRACK THIS!'”

Doug: “Yup. Called it.”

The Lowest Form Of Humor

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