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I once asked my ex if it would be okay to get his mom a bottle of rum for christmas, considering she liked Jamacia so much.
She was an alcoholic.

He was not amused.

That's what I meant by jokes as coping mechanism.
That's what I meant about having to earn the right to do that.
I tried for months to get that damned doctor to say just ONCE "it's not a tumor" in an arnold schwartzeneger voice. And he was just so .. flummoxed at how I could be so glib. How I could laugh all the time. he thought I was callous and shallow. And he thought I just didn't understand.
If I hadn't laughed, I would have started to cry and had I started to I never would have stopped. And really? thinking I had a brain tumor was probably the EASIEST travail I've ever had.
Really.
Simple stuff. Doctors and pain and maybe death. I felt like a normal person.


I appreciate all the horrible jokes thhat everyone felt the need to post in debate.

That's fine, actually, because I don't know if I had much of an angle anway.

That one from Kmarm was the best...
"How do you make a 6 year old cry twice?"
"Wipe your bloody dick on her teddy bear"

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A Non-Newtonian Fluid

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