All the Proof You Need That I’m Your Funniest Friend
Plus new pieces I've had published elsewhere and a busy life update!
All the Proof You Need That I’m Your Funniest Friend
Of course, I’m always telling jokes; I’m your funniest friend. I also do impressions of you, your mom, and your three-legged hairless cat. At the grocery store, I hold up vegetables to pretend they’re body parts, while loudly asking if you’re more of a zucchini or butternut squash kinda guy. You said it was embarrassing, but I saw you laugh!
Remember, after the holidays, when I invited you over for a cappuccino made with the machine I got for Christmas, but instead of cinnamon, I sprinkled it with cayenne pepper? That video of your first sip – don’t tell me that’s not funny. 100K views and counting. I made you famous!
Only your funniest friend could do that.
Or that time at the movies we were watching that boring foreign film about the daily life of a shepherd in Algeria? I scream-whispered a joke about which character wanted to “get their goat” in your ear loud enough for the couple behind us to hear. They clearly laughed, but you insisted they hissed “Shush!”
You got up to leave because you were embarrassed, but I didn’t argue, I just laughed! Your funniest friend is easygoing like that.
When we went for pizza, our waiter’s name was James, but I called him Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo and Geraldo, but never James. You tried not to show it, but I know you thought it was funny. Then, when you went to the restroom, I grabbed your unlocked phone and texted your ex that you missed her and wanted her to come over later that night with whipped cream and chocolate syrup.
I remembered you told me she always made the best desserts, because I’m thoughtful and funny.
At a bar, when we ran into your high school crush, Melissa, who you hadn’t seen in a decade, I stood behind her and silently mimed that you had spinach in your teeth until you went to check the restroom mirror.
When you came back you told me you didn’t have anything stuck in your teeth and I had to remind you, “I was joking! Don’t you know me at all?”
That hurt, if I’m honest.
Then you started looking around for Melissa, but she was gone. I’d remembered how she made you cry in 10th grade, so I told her you have dessert plans later with your ex.
And who will ever forget your birthday party? I brought you the most enormous present you’d ever seen and insisted you open it right away. I got everyone to start chanting, “Open it! Open it! Open it!” until you gave in.
When you opened it, you discovered a smaller box inside. Then when you opened that one, you discovered another smaller box. And another even smaller one in that one. Eventually, you opened a teeny tiny box that was empty. Your gift was that you gave everyone at the party a laugh on your birthday, even though you aren’t funny.
Making your life funnier is what I do! Even when things are sad. Like that time you were giving a eulogy and started to cry. I made funny faces from the second row, by holding my nose with one hand and wafting away a horrible smell with the other. I pointed to your dad sitting in front of me to let you know that it was coming from him, because I know that being widowed stinks! Badly.
That’s understanding and funny, if you’re keeping track.
Finally, how could you forget that time we were in a car accident and I was fine, but you got hurt, and I told the paramedics you were allergic to painkillers even though you’re not, so in the future, at cocktail parties, we’ll have a funny story to tell. Because if there’s one thing your funny friend knows, it’s that tragedy plus time equals humor.
You don’t think that was funny yet, but you will one day!
Now you’re saying you don’t want to be friends with your funniest friend?? I think that means you’ve lost your sense of humor, and you should go out and look for it.
I think it’s in the garbage truck that just took the bin I threw your car keys into.
So funny, right?
Hiya Substack friends!
Well, this spring has been a blur, and it’s been too long since I posted! I moved one daughter out of college, watched the other one graduate high school, went to a major college reunion (Go Gate!) and had an amazing time at the St. Nell’s Humor Writing Residency Reunion (which I will write more about next time, I promise). Now life is settling down, and I plan to get back to posting regularly.
This humor piece is basically a character monologue. Not satire. Not necessarily relatable to real life — and yet, something about a person who tries so hard to be funny, but doesn’t know how unfunny they are, was really fun to play with.
I got the idea for this character while I was having lunch with a woman in my writing group. (Hi Terry!) I was talking about going to the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop and the idea of being with somebody who tried extremely hard to be funny came to me. Who was this person, and what did they want? They wanted to be valued as the funniest. Even if they clearly are not!
Incidentally, last night I was at a bar with my husband, and a friend of his found out I write humor, and I could just tell he didn’t think I seemed like the funny type. I don’t think humor writers are necessarily easy to spot in the wild, but here are a few clues:
They like to observe people, institutions, and society from the perspective of an outsider.
They will sometimes agree to leave the house or attend a social event with the secret hope that if it’s not enjoyable, at least it may elicit some material to write about.
If something frustrates, annoys, or hurts them, they may secretly be glad because it gives them writing material.
When they smile, it may be less to do with what’s going on and more to do with the fact that you just gave them something to write about.
The hardest I laughed last night was while dancing to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” Mainly because I realized this song is over 40 years old. 40!! However, an underrated perk of middle age is starting your night on the town during happy hour and ending it as the crowd who wasn’t even born in the 20th century arrives to start their night out at 10 pm. Which just so happens to be my bedtime.
Thanks for reading!
Jen
My recommendation this time is to read more humor that I have written. Bold, I know! But here are friend links to a couple of humor pieces I’ve had published recently.
This one, published in Slackjaw, came out of my current feelings of annoyance with the proliferation of pointless content, content about making content, and content just for the sake of content. It’s an example of taking a frustration and turning it into humor, while pointing out how stupid and wrong it is. That last part is so satisfying.
An Urgent Message About Reducing Your Consumption Of Consumable Contentless Content
And for the parents of girls out there, this one was in Frazzled (Thank you, Andrew Knott!) and may end up being included in my book of parenting humor for, who else, parents of teenage girls. Write what you know — you know? For the record, my daughters have said that when they say I’m cute, they mean it. So it looks like I got a compliment and writing material. That’s what I call a win-win.
FAQs When Your Teen Daughter Calls You “Cute”
✉️Were you forwarded this email? This is an issue of Humor in the Middle, a bi-monthly consistently inconsistent newsletter featuring original humor writing by Jennifer Haubrich, as well as links and recommendations to help you smile, laugh, and enjoy more moments of full-out hilarity 😆 in the middle of life in this crazy, crazy world. 🤡 🌎
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Share this with a friend who could use more humor in their life!
Do you even know anyone who doesn’t??!
The escalation in this piece is perfectly calibrated — each anecdote is just slightly worse than the last, which is exactly how you sustain a character monologue without losing the reader. The eulogy bit is the peak, and the ending with the car keys in the garbage truck is a great button. The meta-note about humor writers observing the world as outsiders rings very true too — there's something honest about admitting that a bad experience is secretly exciting because it's material.
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