My name is Sari.
Its like "Scary" but without the "kuh".

I spend most days in utter amazement that I've made it this far with two evil, plotting parts to my brain. These two halves are constantly at war, whether it be with themselves, each other, or me. I do not own the space in my skull, it seems.
They do.


...loft for rent anyone?

Friday

Oh, there is!?

Repetition is funny when its coming from someone else.

If you watch Laurel and Hardy, and you see that piano falling down the steps- its still as funny the 17th time as it was the first. But that's outside your body. That's not attached. Its humor for humor's sake.

Now, my brain, while being humorous on accident, has a problem with repeating a joke if it thinks its particularly funny.
Of course, I'm allowing quite a bit here by assuming the constant repeats are from humor, not short term memory loss.

I used to see a particular billboard everyday when I was driving...

It said, very plainly, "Yes, There IS A Minimally Invasive Surgery For That."
Instantly, I felt myself sigh with relief and say "Oh, good. I was wondering..."

Then, of course, I giggled to myself. Billboards that answer questions I haven't asked never fail to prompt me into some form of gratitude.

That was the first time I saw it...

The second time I saw it, I once again couldn't deny myself the instant sigh of relief and "Oh, man, I was worried..." response. The third, forth and subsequent trips all ended the same way... "Oh! Good! Hey, babe, did you hear that? There IS a minimally invasive surgery for this!" ... every...single....time....

It wasn't until one of the last times I drove past it that the response, as usual, made its appearance, but it was followed by the other part of my brain replying with an "Okay! I GET IT! VERY FUNNY! STOP NOW!" ....

The halves of my brain had become aware of themselves again. One making the same joke over and over, the other getting increasingly irritated by it, and somehow unable to stop.

I was quite pleased when I realized I didn't have to drive that way anymore. The arguing in my cranium was louder than the stereo, no matter how much I turned it up...