Selective Amnesia

New research proves what I always knew

This article proves what I always knew. That most the women I know are actually men.

I am, most people I know and don’t know even say, funny. Verily funny. I can crack the worst PJs possible (for the benefit of my international audience – 5 of you, PJs in India mean not Pajamas, but Pun-ny jokes. Or bad jokes. Or jokes that makes you want to take a huge stick and beam Chandru one on his head)
But PJs aren’t my forte. No, they aren’t even my rampart-e. Instead, topical humour and long rambling mindless pointless blog-posts, such as this one, are where I am my funniest in.

Seriously, I use my extraordinary English skills to good use. I have conjugal relationships with verbs, get personal with nouns and get pretty subjective over my adjectives. But, it seems, according to that article (be honest now, you didn’t read it, did you? You lazy bum!) all my humour is zilch when it comes to men. Men, apparently, don’t like the funnies. And before my previous two statements cast a queer aspersion on my orientation (pun unintended), I am the arrow. Straight and sure about it.

What I mean is, I try to be funny in the company of women. I usually succeed. In the trying area. But to zero effect. All my years of bad jokes and word play comes to a naught. The bait don’t bite. Which means, these women I do know, aren’t. Yes. They are all wolves. In vixen clothing.

Unless of course, my dear, it is you. Yes you. And you. And you. And you. And no, not you dude. Arrow, remember the arrow.

[Link via MadMan]