I heard a joke the other day. It went something along the lines of, "Once upon a time, a French poodle was having a lot of trouble and was talking about it to her friend who was a dachsund. Said the dachsund, 'Well, if you're having all that trouble, maybe you should see a psychiatrist.' The poodle cried out, 'No! I can't possibly see the psychiatrist.' 'Why is that?' the dachsund replied. Said the poodle, 'I'm not allowed on the couch.'" Then out of nowhere, that guy showed up. You know him. For some reason, this guy just had to go and explain and graciously point out that there's no such thing as a dog psychiatrist (funny how they never find it odd that dogs or other animals can talk, walk upright, etc.). They usually start by saying, "Well (pronounced, "wull"), THAT would never happen because..." and then they go and explain and pick apart a joke to death.
First of all, what is a joke? It is nonsense. The inane. Humor. Making that which would never happen come to pass with humorous results. It ought to enable dogs, cats, snails, frogs, vegetables or WHATEVER to talk, have families, jobs... whatever, much like the Far Side. (Although I'm sure Gary Larson got these sorts of people reading his work and complaining too.) So in short, OF COURSE it could never happen. That is the nature of a JOKE!
I never want to and thus will never be that guy. Go ahead, invite me to your parties. I promise I won't ruin your best (or worst) jokes.
But the more I think about it, shouldn't that poodle have been speaking French?
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