Funniest joke in the world" "Last night I dreamed I was eating flannel cakes. When I woke up the blanket was gone!"

I'm not funny.

I just picked up a copy of Vonnegut's A Man Without a Country, and I'll be. If it isn't one of the most sincere and earnest books I've read in a while, it's certainly the funniest. Not in a "knee-slapping, dabbing the tears away" funny. More like a "smart chuckle on every page" funny.

At times I find myself saying something that I'll think deserves a laugh. Then I'll compare my delivery to that of a popular comedian or a television character and nine times out of ten that person is always much, much funnier. I thought I found the exception with one of the dogs from Beverly Hills Chihuahua, but considering the fact that it's a bizarre, slightly cute talking animal, I realized that it's probably funnier than I am.

Tonight while I was in the shower I thought it might be funny if I started wearing a boot on my head. You see, I would go around wearing a worn out shoe like a baseball cap waiting for people to ask, "Why do you have that ragged thing on your head?" And I would respond with, "It's aboot time you asked." Or something quippy like that. Except not that exact response because it's not really funny. Well, maybe. But then I started thinking if that were to be my main goal in life. How simple everything would be! I could wander all over the world waiting to tell the punchline. In essence, I would be achieving my life goal with every telling. I would have a purpose. A sense of euphoria would wash over me. But then I started thinking how pathetic I would look. Having to wait for someone to initiate a conversation about an old boot. Trying not to laugh before giving away the punchline. Wearing an old boot every day. It all seemed too taxing.

And it just wasn't funny.

Maybe I'll just memorize a few jokes to tell at parties. Maybe I'll get a few laughs that way.