"My grandma's birthday
falls on Alien Day. Do
you think she's from space?"
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In case you missed the update on the home page (or Facebook or Twitter), yesterday, 4/26, was not only Alien Day, but also my grandmother's birthday. It inspired a haiku in my head, but today is the first time I've gotten a chance to write it down. Like I said in an earlier blog, a day late, a dollar short. So here's my 4/26/2018 haiku:
"My grandma's birthday falls on Alien Day. Do you think she's from space?"
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I remember the standup portion of Open Mic Night on April 13, 2018, most of all. The lanky comedian asked the crowd if anyone in attendance would soon be married. One man answered, "In three years."
The comedian took advantage of the man's Southern accent by saying, "Are you hoping that by then you two won't be related anymore?" It seemed off the cuff, and it drew several laughs, but it left me with a pressing question: Was the Southern man a plant? I didn't see him in the dark club, and even judging by his voice I couldn't tell where he was seated, so I couldn't ask him, so I decided to ask the comic himself. After he had left the stage to considerable applause, I made my move. I was a little embarrassed, because I thought he might make fun of me for not knowing better... but I started to ask, "Excuse me? I thought you were very funny, but the wedding joke... Was that scripted, or--" Suddenly another man appeared behind the comedian. I found out later that it was the Southern man who had been laughed at during the performance. He had a gun. I tried to warn the comic, but the shots were louder than I was... and faster. I got my answer, though the comedian did not live to tell me. |
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