The class clown: a dangerous profession indeed, yet possessing a high skill level requirement as well. In my experience as a class clown, and through my observations of other class clowns, I have come up with some criteria. First, it�s not about the caliber of the joke or its funniness, if you will. Rather, it�s all about timing. Some clowning attempts are obviously well-thought-out but spoken during a dull roar�clearly not maximizing the number of students able to hear. If they can�t hear, they can�t laugh. Likewise, some clown posers are able to fake it for long periods of time with medial jokes solely based on their knack for timing. Second, as with most things, less is more; now is not the time for a planned routine. There is a fine line between teacher�s pet and the dunce in the corner, and a good class clown fits comfortably in the middle. This maximizes audience participation, as all personality types feel included. One joke too many may be the difference between, �I�m sitting next to him/her tomorrow� and �Get here faster tomorrow so I don�t have to sit by that!� Remember: it�s not stand-up, it�s clowning. Third, all potential class clowns must accept that not all people have a sense of humor, (and those that do probably possess one of a lesser quality) so it is inevitable that a joke will bomb once in a while. For this reason, recovery is extremely important. When we fall off the clowning horse, we must dust ourselves off and get back on, right? So the best thing to do after you realize you are the only one laughing is to take a minute to compose yourself, shake it off, and be ready for the next opportunity. Make a mental note of this blunder to help minimize mishaps in the future, and whatever you do, DO NOT use �guess you had to be there� as a save. You�re only digging yourself deeper. Finally, it is absolutely imperative that your teacher/professor hear every joke. Without this key element, you are settling for second best�the goof-off. Every teacher notices a disruption, but until he/she notices you as the cause, you can never officially make it to class clown status. After all, the teacher is a main component of a class. This, of course, does not encompass the entirety of class clowning. Only a massive book could closely do so (an endeavor for the future), so I can only hope these few tips can form a solid beginning to those interested in entering the field. Good luck to you all�veterans of the trade, and novices alike.
JOKE OF THE MONTH:
A pirate walked into a bar, and the bar tender asked, �Why do you have a steering wheel in your pants?� The pirate answered, �Aaarrrrgggg! It�s drivin� me nuts!�
RANDOM ACTS OF�INSANITY:
Sarah (my new roomie) and I had a brief encounter with a massive fly infestation. For no apparent reason, hundreds of flies were materializing hourly in our apartment. We did not realize the extent of the problem until one day when we were talking about how we had each killed 20 flies that day. It seemed that every time we opened the blinds there were 50 flies buzzing uncontrollably at the window. By the end of the day we had killed so many that it looked like a war zone in our living room�dead carcasses everywhere, and Sarah on the rampage. Sure, I would kill my fair share when the masses convened on the window, but Sarah took it as a personal insult that there were still flies miraculously appearing. I did get a good laugh watching her stand in the middle of the room with a rolled paper in hand in her hunters stance, ready to attack. Finally, her parents came over to �fumigate,� and her dad discovered that the cardboard boxes sitting in the living room probably housed a nest of some sort. He carried out the boxes and the dreaded infestation along with them. The battle was short lived, but traumatic nonetheless. Now, if we could only get rid of the crickets on parade I�d be happy.
QUOTE CORNER:
�Even I don�t get up looking like Cindy Crawford.� -Cindy Crawford
"The difference between 'involvement' and 'commitment' is like an eggs-and-ham breakfast: the chicken was 'involved' - the pig was 'committed'." -Unknown
�I love it when I laugh so hard I puke!� -me
DEEP THOUGHTS:
What is it that makes a complete stranger dive into an icy river to save a solid gold baby? Maybe we'll never know.
The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad." We'd eat some stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave you.
WORDS FROM THE WISE:
You�ll be glad to know I�ve added a new most embarrassing moment to the list. The last weekend of the summer Laura, April, Emily, and I took a little road trip to Spearfish, South Dakota. One night the four of us and 3 of Emily�s male camp pals decided to walk to the park. It was late, so it was rather dark outside. We had to climb over a wooden fence to get out of the yard, and as Laura was climbing over she got a splinter. I said that I thought I had gotten one too, so Matt turned the flashlight on, we could look. As the light shone on me, I looked down and saw a massive bug on my shorts. I began screaming hysterically and trying to swat it away. It was stuck to my shorts, and I could not pull it off. Finally, Rodney and Matt ran over to me and asked what was wrong. I yelled, �I don�t know what it is, but get it off me!!� Rodney tugged at the bug and looked up in astonishment��It�s a button� was all he said before everything became very quiet (except for some dogs barking in protest to my panic attack). Yes, indeed it was a button, and oh, there was one on the other side too. I spent the rest of the night trying in vain to convince them all that I was not an idiot. Emily shook her head at me the next morning unable to understand why I would freak out so much over a bug. I tried to explain that it wasn�t the bug that was scary�it was the fact that it wasn�t coming off!
Moral: Never underestimate your own stupidity. It always comes back to BUG you.
THE DATING GAME:
Last issue (which was what? A year ago?) I asked the question, �Who should make the first move and why?� I would like to continue this poll for the next issue. I�ve always wondered what the majority�s view is, as I�m sure some of you have. This is our chance to find out. Send responses to [email protected]
BRITTANY�S THOUGHTS ON FORWARDED MESSAGES:
I just love getting those encouraging forward people pass on to me. Like the ones that talk about loving your mom or how women are the best or teddy bears make good friends. Oh yeah, and some say fuzzy things like �They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.� But when I get down to the bottom of the email, and find �Send this on to all the people on your mailing list or you don�t love them and you might as well DIE DIE DIE!�, it kinda kills the mood. Know what I mean?
YOURS:
Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh?
-submitted by Emily K.
MY SISTER THE RETARD:
Blake�s new thing is the rainbow Nilla Wafers. Apparently, they make them in all sorts of colors now, which she claims makes them �a lot more fun than the regular kind.� As always, though, she cannot be satisfied with simple weirdness. She must go the extra mile to bizarre. I was talking to my mom on the phone one Saturday morning as she gave me the play-by-play on Blake�s breakfast. She had first decided to have some of these wafers with milk. Not just any milk, but milk with green food coloring in it�to go with the colorful Nilla Wafers. After I finished laughing, I commented that she just did it to gross us out. My mom said, �But the sad part is that you know if she were the only one home, she still would have done it.� There was no more laughter, for we both knew this was true.
