Wild Sound

While walking to the subway this sunny morn the memory of a joke I made
the other day flashed through my head and I had to stifle a laugh. But
then I couldn’t stifle it and I actually sort of snorted with laughter
while walking down the street by myself. So I’m walking down the
street, by myself, laughing at my own memories of my own jokes. I
wonder what it means that I can crack myself up this way. This may be a
better explanation of my declining interest in funny guys: too much
competition for airtime.

Filed by cynthia rockwell at 2:32 pm under Uncategorized
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