2007 - Vol. 4, Issue 1

The good thing about being a humorist is that I tend to see the comical side of whatever I'm going through, even — or especially — when it's humiliating, aggravating, or stressful. I love to entertain my friends with amusing tales of the latest stupid thing I've done or endured: how I had to call my landlord and sheepishly request he put my front door back on its hinges after I accidentally rammed it with my powerchair; how my service dog was farting so horrifically during my psychotherapy session that my counselor had to cover my dog's behind with a towel; how my dental hygienist has told me twice a year for eight years that she's sure I'm going to recover because I "have a positive attitude," and instead of saying, "What the hell do you know about my attitude?" I always reply, "Angk uy."

However, with the exception of my occasional health appointments, I'm pretty much homebound. So, most of the conversations wherein I recite these gems take place on the phone. In fact, I pride myself on my ability to "give good phone."

However, more and more when I find myself on the telephone, I'm not talking to an actual person. Rather, I'm waiting for the cue from an electronic voice. And the voice never laughs at my stories, not even the really good ones, like how I try to treat my migraines by spraying hot chile pepper up my nose — intentionally.

It's bad enough when I call the phone or electric company and have to recite a series of identifying numbers and letters to a computer, but this morning I was actually roused from a deep sleep by a phone call from my Medicare Part D company's computer. In a somnolent stupor, I listened to a disturbingly sincere synthesized femalesque voice assure me that my prescriptions would still be covered for all of 2007. It had never occurred to me that they wouldn't be. Is this something I should be worried about? I wondered. She/it continued — in a voice that I'm sure a focus group identified as being soothing — by telling me nothing in my insurance plan would change, and that I didn't have to do anything to maintain my coverage. Well then, why are you calling me? I thought. And why am I still listening? Why am I even still awake?

But I couldn't shake the feeling that it would be rude to hang up on her/it or that maybe some relevant information would be forthcoming, so I held on. She/it asked if I understood everything. "Yes," I responded, looking around my room to make sure that nobody could see what an idiot I was for staying on the line. She/it solicitously followed up with, "Do you have any questions?"

"No," I mumbled, feeling really asinine now. Eventually she/it thanked me for my time, and we hung up on good terms. I think we might go out for lunch next week.

But later, after the sleep deprivation had worn off, it occurred to me that since all things telephonic seem to be electronified, digitized, and otherwise technologized, I should use these modern methods to gather and disseminate funny stories. Henceforth my essays will employ a handy interactive feature that will allow readers to share their tales, quips, and silly stories. As a special bonus, while some readers might enjoy the experience, I'm sure it will annoy the shit out of others, who will hopefully put some really abusively foul language into email form and send it my way. The emotional scars I receive from getting such scathing responses should give me enough material to keep me writing for months! Here we go!...

You have reached the Humor Hotline TM. Thank you for taking part in this exciting advancement into the funny frontier! Please stand by. Your laughter is important to me. Your laughter will be answered in the order in which it was received.

Press one to continue with this article.

Thank you! Press two to have me ignore whether you pressed one or not.

Thank you! To hear a funny story or to share an amusing anecdote, please stand by. Or you can sit. You might as well make yourself comfortable because between problems with my ISP and not feeling well, I'm spending a lot of time just lying on the couch watching Scrubs reruns; I'm probably not even online.

The time you have to wait to be amused is between five minutes and infinity.

To hold, keep reading. To discontinue and read the Humor HotlineTM at a later date, press your fingers into your eyelids (after you have already shut your eyes; the Humor HotlineTM cannot be held responsible for eye–gauging, headaches, or any other injuries you might receive while reading the Humor HotlineTM). To reverse this process — and continue reading the Humor HotlineTM — open your eyes.

To read this message in Spanish, press three. Para leer este mensaje en español, oprima número tres.

Gracias! Para leer este mensaje en español, oprima número tres.

If you are sick and tired of reading an essay that reminds you of an annoying voicemail system, find a heavy, metal object, such as a hammer, and using a downward, swinging motio—