Humor Test

Schmoopie is german, and strictly speaking, as I have a little bit it my scotch-irish mutt-mix, so are my children. Here's the problem- the germans are not renowned for their sense of humor. At all. Ever. Whereas, I laugh early and laugh often. On purpose. At things. Funny things.

I LOVE- no really- LOVE B. Kliban cartoons (except for all that "Cat" bullshit). The man was a genius, and you Far Side heretics would have nothing without him. It's a damned shame that he died in 1990, but his work hasn't lost a step with time. I was looking at some of his work laughing myself beet red, when Schmoopie decided to investigate. She saw this:



And did not laugh at all. Didn't even smile. Nuttin. I was dumbfounded. How the hell could you NOT laugh at that? Who can't identify with this kind of predicament? I've had several jobs that I didn't like or even understand, and I stuck with them for longer than I can explain. Further testing seemed warranted. I tried something more slapstick:



Nope. I think the smile was patronising. Okay- time to bring out the big guns:



Not a sausage. I was crying with laughter over this one, just having been exposed to it from the testing process, and I was looked upon as an utter mystery by my loving bride. It's like a language barrier sometimes. It reminds me of the story behid this Chas Addams gem:



That was published in a New Yorker many years ago, and the staff of the New Yorker at the time were amazed when they started receiving mail from german subscribers who were attempting to explain how events may have unfolded that begat that scene depicted. Unbelievable. Germans trying to solve a joke.

Welcome to my world...