A Bigger Me

My sense of humor is seriously warped and unquestionably politically incorrect. And my ability to NOT laugh, out loud, at certain mind blowingly inappropriate times is nearly non-existent. This isn't something I am necessarily proud of - as I can really hurt another human beings feelings. And I honestly don't mean to. But, I'm sorry, if it's funny it's funny. I'll work on it - I promise I will. Someday.

I am able to hold it in for maybe a minute if it is really, really inappropriate but you better believe that as I'm sucking it up I am also scanning the scene for the nearest safe laughing zone. Example: I love that "Help I've fallen and I can't get up!" TV commercial where the stunt person with a white wig throws themselves down a flight of stairs as though they were a fragile old person. So, imagine my horrified delight when I was at the theater in London, high up in the bloody nose balcony, and one of Britain's frail elderly came rolling, head over heels, down the aisle - brushing my arm as she snowballed past. Luckily my brain, more concerned for her potentially life threatening injuries, didn't register what I had actually witnessed until she was up and clearly okay. But for the next fifteen minutes I was convulsing, tears washing my mascara into my shoes, behind my program.

Seeing people fall is one of my favorite reasons for violent giggling. That and men with bad hair pieces. But, the number one thing that causes me to collapse into fits of cannot be controlled, I-am-totally-the-worst-person-ever, laughter?

A Little Story:

I have some friends that, while at a retreat, went to a day spa for massages. My friend M. sat in her robe as friend after friend was greeted and led away for an hour of deep tissue bliss. Finally, it was her turn. Her name was called and she was greeted by her massage therapist who also happened to be a...

MIDGET!!!

Excuse me... "Little Person." She waddled her to her room and directed her to the table, which was on the floor!!! She proceeded to massage M. with her "Little Person" fingers and even straddled her like she was her very own "Little Person" pony! I am so jealous of M! She gets to tell that story for the rest of her life. All I can say is, "I have a friend who was once massaged by a midget!" Total rip off!!! But, honestly, had it been me I would never even have made it into the room to see the table on the floor. I would have spontaneously combusted the moment I realized that I was about to be massaged by a midget! I would never have stopped laughing. Ever.

I'm not a bitch. Really, I'm not. I care very deeply about my fellow human beings. But I read what I just wrote and think, "What a colossal bitch." For some horrifying reason I never learned to consider "Little People" my fellow human beings. I know I'm not alone in this. Most of us "Giant People" think midgets are funny. They are de-humanized for us at our first circus or "Wizard of Oz" viewing. Then, for me, movies like "Lust in the Dust" starring Divine and a highly unfortunate viewing of midget porn (with a friend whom I refused to believe when he said there really was such a thing) made them about as human as a blender. And that really sucks for them because they are human beings. They're just little. And I'm a bitch.

You know who I am? I am the woman that makes retard jokes until she has a Downs Syndrome baby. I am (and, in reality, was) the stupid kid that makes fag jokes until she discovers her dad is gay. I need a "Little Person" friend. And when I get one, I will let her, and all her little friends, mock me as long and hard as they want. They can even kick me in the shin because, let's face it, their little feet can't reach my ass. And because I totally deserve it.

Then I'll give her a massage.