This post is so awesome, God just called and asked me to go steady

By nature, I'm very literal. Sarcasm eludes me most of the time, although I'm putting forth a lot of effort to learn how to better interpret as well as dole out sarcasm. Like, for example, if someone says something that may or may not be sarcastic, like "Nice work, you totally housed that pizza, I wasn't really in the mood for dinner anyhow," I will ask, "Was that sarcasm?" and they will either say "Yes" and I will feel like a Nobel Prize winning linguist, or they will say "No" and I will then ask, "Was that a sarcastic no?" and on it goes. But I always get my man eventually. And by "my man" I mean "my answer regarding sarcasm". Hey, was that sarcasm what I just said? I meant one thing but said another, so I nailed it, right?

A flashback, if you will...

Come with me for a moment, back to high school...

Becky closes her locker and walks down the hall, as one by one, books and assorted items begin to tumble from her backpack.

Mean girl: HAHAHA!! Nice work, Becky. Oh, real nice work!! HAHAHA!!! 

Becky: (picking up her things) Actually, that wasn't nice work at all. I must not have been paying attention when I zipped up my backpack. That's pretty much the opposite of nice work, if you ask me! It's careless is what it is!

...aaaand we're back. See what I mean? Literal. 

This inability to grasp the nuances of the language makes blogging a little more difficult. Like for instance, the first time anyone ever LOL'ed in my comments section...

Becky: Oh my God. Wow. This is fantastic. I made someone laugh, audibly even. They laughed so hard they laughed out loud, for all the world to hear! And they have, in turn, gifted me with this LOL, so that I may know that I earned the highest of all responses: The laugh that will not be contained. I've never been more proud.

Eventually I had to look up the meaning of "ROFLMFAO", and...

Becky: Whoa. Rolling? On the floor? Hold on now. That seems a little extreme. I've never in my life rolled from laughter. Now, this sounds like it might be hyperbole. 

One of my facebook friends consistently writes at the end of her status updates, "LOLOLOLOL!!!!" and I'm left to wonder...is it possible to laugh out loud out loud out loud? It must be a Zen thing. My brain hurts just thinking about it.

So I get it now. People aren't destroying their monitors with spit-up coffee, nobody falls to the floor and rolls around their office unless of course they're on fire (Stop, Drop, and ROFSHSIBIB*) and they even write LOL without cracking a smile, which seems like the biggest lie I've ever heard of. The discrepancy between what is typed and what I imagine might actually be going on makes me feel uneasy sometimes.  

But okay, I'll go with it. LOL. See? That was practice. I was flipping channels while I typed that. ROFL!! I typed that one while I was scratching my boob and thinking about burritos. How does it feel? Not good, right? Right. So let's do something about this, here and now.

I propose that in lieu of LOL and other such insincerities that only a master linguist specializing in the art of colloquialisms or maybe just someone not located at around indigo on the Aspberger's Spectrum could decode, comments should go one of two ways:

OPTION ONE: Complete sincerity.

Like this...While reading the second paragraph of this post, I exhaled sharply through my nose three times in succession, which I believe qualifies as a "snort". I felt amused in that moment. I didn't read the rest of it though because I had to pee really badly, so after I established your intended tone in paragraph 3, I felt I could comment appropriately enough to make you think I read all the way through. 

Or this...I thought the part about the cat and the balloon and the turkey sandwich was funny. I didn't laugh audibly, but a pleasant feeling originated in my stomach and resulted in a smile. I have written similar posts, yet I have far fewer followers. This confuses me.

Or... I, too, dislike bad drivers. This was not laugh out loud humorous, although I did emit a soft "Heh" sound when in an ironic twist, the bad driver was you. I have had a similar experience. I can relate. 

OR...

OPTION TWO: If you're gonna lie, go big. 

As in...I just laughed so hard I spit up coffee on my computer, which triggered my gag reflex, and then I yacked everywhere. I'm so overcome by laughter-induced hysteria that I'm making festive hand-print turkeys on the walls with my own excrement. My husband and children have passed out from shock. What a morning! Thanks for the laugh to start off my day! 

Or...I just laughed so hard that I bent over and blew out the windows of my office with a high-powered shit missile. Funny stuff!

Or perhaps...Oh my God, I laughed so hard I'm peeing right now. I can't stop, seriously. It's like a fire hose. I'm going to have to cut this comment short because the pee level in my apartment is rising quickly and I have to locate my scuba gear and get the pets to higher ground. Kids!! Run!! Run to Aunt Linda's house before it's too...*gurgle* 

Lastly...After reading this post, all my organs failed at once. I am dead. My ghost has instructed my cat to finish this comment. Meow. It was THAT funny. PS: I have an award for you over at my site!:-) 

Don't get me started on those bullshit liar emoticons. 

*Rolling On The Floor Saying Holy Shit It Burns It Burns

***

PS: I just discovered that there is a new LOL, called RL LOL. It means "Real Life Laugh Out Loud". Finally, the two-faced LOL is revealed for what he is: A liar, a scoundrel, and a confuser of Me's. This new RL LOL will change everything. Now I will know when you guys are laughing out loud, for real, in real life. Now I will have peace.

Nobody puts Nana in the corner, unless we're real busy and her wheelchair is getting in the way. **NOW UPDATED WITH MORE ASSHOLE!**

Look Nana,

I'm worried about you. I can tell you're feeling blue. What's the matter? Is it turning 102 that's got you down in the dumps? I think that must be it. You think I'm not paying attention, but I am. I can hear you from the living room, contemplating the meaning of it all, asking yourself all the big questions in life, like "Who am I?", "Where am I?", "Who are you people?" and "Why won't you let me die?" Those are all important questions for someone your age. Such an inquisitive spirit!

This is a magical time in your life, Nana. Every girl dreams of her 102nd birthday in much the same way she dreams of her wedding day. Life is good! Every day is an adventure, and you never know who you're going to meet.

                                 

What? That's not why you're feeling down? What is it then?

I think I know why. It must be that MyHeritage.com Celebrity Look-Alike game thing, huh? Yeah, I thought so. You've seemed a little down in the dumps since you uploaded your face and received the list of celebrities you most resemble. Well, it can't be that bad. Who'd you get, Nana? I could see maybe...hmmm...Shirley McLaine? Orrrr....Dame Judy Dench? No? Who, then?

You're not gonna tell me? Aw, Nana. Let me see. Come on. Let me see. I won't laugh. I won't tell anyone. Promise.

Promise. I won't laugh. Promise. I would never. Look at my face, Nana. I would NEVER be so insensitive as to laugh at something that is obviously affecting your self-esteem so deeply. 

Good. Ok, let's see what we've got here....

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! Oh, NANA!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh, I'm sorry, Nana! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! No, no I'm not laughing at you. I was just thinking about something else...something comedic in my memory from long ago that I just remembered...HAHAHA!!! Oh, that Gallagher, smashing those watermelons everywhere what a mess HAHA! Not laughing at you at all Nana! 

Aheehee. *deep breaths*

Yes. Settling down now. Okay. Well. Ahem. Ok then, what do we have here, Nana. I see. William S. Burr...Hey you know what, let's skip that one. And Leslie Neilson of Naked Gun and Airplane fame. Mmm hmm, interesting. And Mick Fleetwood, yes okay, I can see that, he's got your beard soulful eyes. And HEY! Look at that! David Duchovny! Reow! Sexy Nana, am I right? Up top, Nana? No?....No?....

Okay, Nana. It's pretty bad, I can't lie, but it's just a game. I know, I know, My Little Becky's matches were pretty accurate, I agree. She got Katherine Heigl, Brooke Shields, Nicole Kidman, a couple international supermodels, blah blah blah. She's young, you know? She's a pretty girl! Her jowls haven't even grown in yet for God's sake! My Little Becky only WISHES she got someone as cool as retired magician and debunker of paranormal claims, James Randi, or Hungarian composer of Hitler's favorite operettas, Franz Lehar! 

You know what you need, Nana? A makeover. A makeover would boost your self-esteem, make you feel like the vixen you are. Maybe a little powder on your nose...

Maybe a little blush here and here...

Maybe some more hair on your head...

A little more lip...

A little less neck...

A couple eyebrows....

And VOILA! *gasp!* Nana, you take my breath away. Just gorgeous.

What a delicate beauty.

Alright, let's see what MyHeritage.com has to say about this foxeh laydeh, you ready? 

*uploads*

Aw, look, you're smiling. You feel better now, Nana? Good.

Does this make up for when I called you a dick? No? Fair enough.

UPDATED:

Dear MyHeritage.com,

I can't quit you. Kurt's asshole wants a go.



Maybe I'll just go ahead and add a little of this and a little of that...



...and...Jesus, do you know your assholes or what. You are made of magic.



You understand the human condition in a way that is so brutally honest and insightful. Does this work with dogs too? Be right back...

UPDATED AGAIN!! 

Bad girl Zooey wants her celebrity matches. See into her soul, MyHeritage.com! 

Yes, I agree. Perhaps she needs a little help as well...

No matches were found?? It must have been the glasses. Yeah, definitely the glasses messed everything up.

Oh what, like you never put a wig on your dog before. You just shut it, you.

Interrogation room. 9pm. 

A single flickering bulb hangs by a cord from the ceiling, casting ominous shadows across the grey walls. The room is bare, save for a small metal table and two chairs. Becky paces back and forth across the cell, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She runs her fingers through her hair and glares at her suspect through squinted eyes. She's been through this before, and is unfazed by the silence. Becky's got questions, and she always gets her answers.

Her suspect sits across from her, panting in the stale night air. She wears a black fur coat, and her unwavering gaze shows no sign of repentance. 

Becky peels the white paper from around her cigarette and pops the pink cylinder of gum into her mouth. This might take a while.

Becky: Alright dog. I'll cut right to the chase. Where were you tonight between the hours of 5 and 8pm?

Zooey: I was sleeping in the bedroom, that's all, just sleeping.

Becky: Sleeping. Alright. Well let me ask you this, dog. If you was sleeping, who pooped on the floor?

Zooey: Well I never....I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. Poop on the floor!! Really!! Whoever heard of such a thing. Am I free to go?

Becky tosses a photo across the table at Zooey, who glances at the photo and tosses it back.

Zooey: Okay. I think...I think what happened was that a pony flew through the window and pooped on the floor.

Becky: Really. A pony. That's a real interesting theory you got there. A flying pony. That's just great.

Becky walks around the table and leans down into Zooey's face. 

Becky: Let me ask you this, Zooey. Why do they call you "The Bad Dog" around these parts? In fact...I believe your nicknames include such terms of endearment as (pulls out notepad, flips open the cover and reads)..."That Asshole Dog", "Bad Bad Zooey Brown", "The Stain", "Black Devil", "Dog Herpes", and of course your Native American name, "Leaks From Anus". 

Zooey: No. I have never heard any of those names. People call me Good Dog Zooey. I'm just a cute pup. Watch this! Hey, who turned out the lights?? AHAHAHALOLZ!!!

Becky: Who pooped on the floor, Zooey?

Zooey: Not I! Look, I will distract you with my cuteness! I can haz treat now? 

Becky: Listen, dog. I'm a busy woman. I don't have time for these games.

Zooey: Look at me now! I'm a hot Swedish nerd! Gaflooven flooven!

Becky: I've had just about enough of these hijinks...

Zooey: Oooh lala! I eez not speak English, Madame! Voulez vous baguette? 

Becky: Hey you know what? Maybe its time I called the vet and made an appointment for your forever nap. Whatdya say? Time for the sleepy shot in the arm? 

Zooey: NO! I ...*sob*... I don't know, lady. Maybe a mouse came through the vent and pooped on the floor.

Becky: Really. A mouse. I find that hard to believe. You need to see that photo again? It looks like someone fucking vaporized Webster in there.

Zooey: Yes. It is impressive. A very large mouse indeed. But certainly not me, because I'm a humble babushka, just waiting in line for bread!

Becky: Cut out the funny business, dog. Who pooped on the floor, Zooey? WHO POOPED ON THE FLOOR???

Zooey: A fat goat!

Becky: NO!

Zooey: A dirty troll!!

Becky: NO ZOOEY!! 

Zooey: A very large man! Santa Claus perhaps! Or Dr. Phil!!

Becky: LIES, ZOOEY!! Out with it, God dammit! You know who pooped on the floor and you listen here and you listen good, or you will never see another braided dehydrated bull-penis chewy treat for as long as you live, see?!! Out with it!

Zooey: Iz did it. Iz made big poopeez.

Becky: Excuse me??

Zooey: *Sigh* I crapped on the floor. I was angry, and I took a crap. There's some over on your bed too. I folded the duvet over it, as a surprise. Merry early Christmas, bitch.

Becky: You know what this means, Zooey. 

Zooey: Yeah. It means nothing. It means leave me alone for too long and I'll do it again. Maybe I'll poop on your head while you sleep. Maybe I'll paint the walls, if I'm feeling artistic. Sky's the limit, really. 

Becky: You'll regret this, dog. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your...

Zooey: *Drips anal gland and scoots out the door, leaving an oily ass-track*  

Becky: *sigh*