Here’s a good old post to make you groan about the depths of Mickian humor.
If you have the bad habit of reading this particular blog more than once, then you are probably aware that I used to be a public school teacher. Even worse, I used to be a middle school English teacher. Aagh! Seventh graders! It explains a lot about how life has warped my intelligence, personality, and world view. It also explains somewhat where I found such a fountain-like source for some of the worst jokes you ever heard.
Now, as to the question of why I have chosen in my retirement early-onset senility to become a humor-blogger… well, that is simply not something I can answer in one post… or even a thousand. But kids are the source of my goofball clown-brain joking around.
Kid-humor, you see, is stunted and warped in weird ways by the time period you are talking about. The eighties, nineties, two thousands, and the tens are…
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I’ve been a substitute teacher in my impending dementia period. The humor hasn’t changed much.
It never does. The words change quite a lot, however. In the 80’s every thing was tubular and gnarly. Bad guys were Mr. Bufu. Everyone talked surfer lingo like Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High.
I have done some subbing too. That is a whole different sack of angry badgers.