Monkey Bacon

“Monkeys are like bacon. They improve just about anything.” - Andy Ihnatko.

I am a regular subscriber to 'Kids say the funniest things...!' columns in ladies magazines that are printed on bronco paper, and smell of smoked meats.

"My 3 year old grandaughter told me I had an incredibly fat arse the other day - I was sitting on her at the time. Don't kids say the funniest thing?! Madge, Wickham."

Nobody seems to laugh at kids gags except me and their punch drunk parents. I can appreciate their illogic nature, and the twist that often blows my mind results in a mutually satisfying giggle.

This months winning kid gag is brought to us by Brodie, 3, The Fylde Coast. This joke was performed at a children's party last month.

"Why did the giraffe cross the road?"

"Because it had no legs"

Those crazy illogic 'no legs' gags get me every time.

Appreciating children's jokes took me a while. To enjoy a child's joke, you need to expect the unexpected and accept that it may contain a reference to willies, or bogeys with a nonsensical twist.

Another example:

Knock Knock,

Who's there?

Willy

Willy who?

Willy no bacon

Saying the word and momentarily ignoring it's logic has a pleasing sound to the mouth. As kids learn to identify objects, they gain a sense of superiority by simply identifying the 'jokes' within. When they see the ridiculousness of their gag has been received well by confused parents, they start to learn that being funny is fun...

In adulthood, many of us don't find bacon funny. Unless it's strapped to a monkey...?

To make a joke:

Why was the bacon strapped to the monkey?

Because it was buy one, get one free.

Please excuse the 'flexibility' of that gag, I'm currently being influenced by spontaneity.

I'm studying Dada at the moment, and as much as I don't appreciate the self-indulgency, I do appreciate it's contribution to broadening the possibilities.

And so an automatic gag for all Dadaist out there. Peace brothers and sisters of the world.

When does Tuesday stop raining?

When you've gone to the bins.

Proof that my subconcious isn't funny. Damn you, grey matter.

Now I don't know about you, but occasionally I play the no legs/arms/eyes/ear/finger/toes game. The game of course is a devil's advocate of disability. Would you prefer to have no legs or no arms?

Being a stubborn proud sort, I'd opt for my leggy leggy legs; feeding myself on shrink wrapped beetroot, and tearing rotisserie chickens apart with my face - with hilarious outcomes, but still, I could, run...whenever the shit hits the fan. Run in the other direction. Even if it's in my mind. Long live illogocialytyness.