Blues of a Busy Mind

All my brother had to do was pop out his eyes, stretch out his tongue and make that screeching sound like that mouse that drank a shot of ogogoro in that old cartoon and any anger I had towards him would melt. Infact, almost anything he did then was hilarious. My mom said all she had to do to make my sister laugh as a baby was tell my brother to stand in front of her and she would burst in hysterics. Me, I never felt that funny, maybe I never was sha. I just noticed that no one actually laughed ~a lot~ when I made what I thought to be a joke. I thought that would change when I left home,but people, I still haven’t grown that particular specie of funny bone.
When I laugh at some things now,a couple of people still look at me like some spices have been mixed in terribly erroneous proportions in my head. There are just a few friends who think me a hilarious company,most just soothe me with ‘creative, intelligent, good company’. The best have said I have a good sense of humor but it’s not really the same as being funny jor. So, in a bid to feel good about myself and this is the truth anyway, I’ve surmised that on the normal scale,my funny and crazy must be on a level beyond what a regular human mind can dare to fathom!
This blog will be a rack for all the words and sentences and paragraphs that my ‘creative’ head has and will come up with and my fingers won’t hesitate to type. If at any point you laugh,do let me know. I’ll cherish that tingle of accomplishment. It has taken taken months of blogging in my mind to get here,but now that I am,well. . . . . .one word at a time. Ekabo.

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