Some people excel at making cracks and some are eternal scapegoats. There appears to be a general consensus that I fall into the latter category.

It is a common sight, me grinning sheepishly as some devilishly clever fellow makes all the witty remarks and steals the thunder. I bring out the worst in people, or the best depending on whose side you’re on. As you can well imagine it makes me very popular with wiseacres who are always on the lookout for punching bags. I once thought that a wiseacre was an excellent investment in real estate. Silly me! I guess that was never my area of expertise.

Parties are places where wits abound. Perhaps it has something to do with the spirit of the occasion. Particularly the type which comes in bottles. Once under the influence of a single malt I dared to try my hand at sarcasm. Or so I was told when I was sufficiently sober. I couldn’t believe my ears. The victim of my razor sharp tongue apparently couldn’t believe his either. Suffice it to say that whatever I did say to him, this bloke has been avoiding eye contact with me ever since.

psychology class...
the sedating effect
of a lecture