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Just Being Funny

Stupid Thoughts—Just Being Funny

I love a good nap. In fact, I consider myself a nap expert of sorts. My obsession with naps goes way back. I wrote a four- or six-page essay in high school, by hand, titled “The Art of Napping.” The section I remember the most detailed how to nap undetected in class. Did I get a passing mark? *hair flick* My English teacher gave me an 8/10.

I say all of that to say I’ve been a prolific nonsense talker for a long time. Here are some other stupid (but hopefully helpful) thoughts.

Social media profiles: Please remove expired domains from your bio. I’m tryna stalk, and you’re leading me to dead ends.

Crepes: Crepes are what happens when a well-meaning parent wants to make pancakes, but they have fifty eleven children to feed.

Relationship status: I’m not single. I’m in an open relationship with myself.

Plus ones: Ever have that friend who is intentionally vague so you have to ask them a million questions just so they don’t try nothing funny?

Who all coming?

Oh, you know, just us.

Who is us?

Jim and them

Who is them?

John and the rest

Who is the rest?

Kim and the crew

Who is the crew?

Not Racist: When people say, “I’m not racist. I have a [race] friend.” That’s like me saying, “I’m not poor. I have a money!”

Babies on social media: What is the most popular social media platform for babies? Yelp. #BadPuns

Marriage statistics: Did you know that being married statistically increases your odds of waking up next to a dead person? You’re welcome.

Self-checkout: Old people use cashiers to avoid computers. Young people use self-checkout to avoid humans…and to steal.

Hair helmets: #DearWhitePeople: Treat Black women’s hair how you treat white men’s toupees. If Bob from Accounting showed up with a new rug, you’re not gonna ask dumb questions like ‘how did you grow it so quickly?’ You not asking for a feel!

Restroom: Real talk, why do they call it a “restroom” when that’s the one place your butthole be working overtime?

Quarantine birthdays: Rumor has it if you celebrate your birthday during quarantine, you don’t actually age a year. You age 84 years.

Career compatibility: Things that make me a good journalist: I be suspicious. Things that make me a bad journalist: I be minding my bidness.

Mafia policies: You think the mafia doing shakedowns via Zoom calls?

Hard truths: I don’t want y’all to be mad, but under her clothes, your mother naked 🙂

Forks: A fork is just a comb for your spaghetti. You’re welcome.

Therapy is expensive so shout out to my Twitter followers (@OniciaMuller) who allow me to share and engage with my silly thoughts and more without canceling me. Thank you for your service.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy. OniciaMuller.com

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Just Being Funny

Airplanes, bagel heads, and breast implants—Just Being Funny

I was watching Airplane! (1980) and spotted a pair of fake breasteses. At first, it meant nothing to me, but then my brain said: Wait a minute, isn’t this film old as dust? How long have breast implants been a thing?

So, in the middle of the night, my roommate and I fired up the old internet search engine to learn everything we could about breast implants, breast augmentations, and everything fake-boobie related. You’re welcome.

If you don’t know, a breast implant is a prosthesis used to change the size, shape, and contour of a person’s breast. Sadly, they only come in circular or teardrop shapes; no one is getting square, cone, or triangular chest ornaments. Hey, before you say that’s ‘silly,’ let me remind you that bagel headwas a beauty trend in the early 2010s. In fact, as recent as August 2020, a woman got forehead implants to look more like a cyborg.

Man, if this is how we’re spending our money when we’re drowning in student loan debt, imagine how decadent our lifestyles would be if we had universal free college? Actually, if I think about it, getting a bagel-shaped silicone implant in my forehead might be a more sound investment than blowing 80 racks on a screenwriting degree. I won’t go into how, but just take a few moments to daydream and you’ll catch the vision.

The first generation of modern implants came out in 1963. Before then, breast augmentation surgery could be traced back to the 1800s. That’s right, we were blowing up boobies before we figured out vacuum cleaners, radio broadcasting, and electric washing machines!

(Y’all, don’t hold me to these raggedy internet facts. I’m just a dutty head with a keyboard looking for jokes.)

Back then, ‘doctors’ were putting any ole’ thing into people’s chest to give them enlarged breasts. For example, implants were made from ivory, glass balls, ground rubber, ox cartilage—and so many other gnarly things. Bruh, somebody’s great-grandma is decomposed in a grave with two rock-hard (or should I say glass-hard?) glass balls in her chest area.

You have to ask yourself if any of these man dem ever touched a boob. Like, why would you think ivory or glass would make the perfect filler substance for what should be the most supple part of our anatomy?

Another amazing fact: The first living creature to receive silicone implants was a dog. I wanna know if they gave the dog one silicone boob or a full 10-pack of D-cups? I lowkey would be wex if they didn’t fill her out all the way.

We might never know if chesticular enhancement made male doggies go “bow wow wow,” but I’m sure furries around the world are salivating. (Please maintain your innocence and don’t search ‘furries.’)

Shout out to the FDA for always dragging they feet on regulating industries. Without your non-diligence, many would have to die of old age or wouldn’t experience the joy that is a class action lawsuit payout.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy. OniciaMuller.com

image credit:

Bra by mette galaxy from NounProject.com
Bra by Med Marki from NounProject.com
Bra by Xinh Studio from NounProject.com
Bra by Llisole from NounProject.com
Elizabeth McQuern Photography

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Comedy Just Being Funny

Why I won’t ever look like Naomi Campbell—Just Being Funny

The “smokey makeup” was masterful except the “smoke” was above my lip and the “makeup” was hairs. Removal could transform me into Naomi Campbell, but cheapness had me looking like “Stache” Harvey. Yup, bad puns for bad moustaches.

Since I enjoy pulling my lone chin hair from le root, tweezing promised to be that euphoric sensation times three million. Listen, viciously plucking face hairs is a certified torture tactic — bun fiya pon alla it.

Applying homemade wax (i.e. molten hot sugar lava) directly to my face wasn’t exactly genius moves.

Dem say shaving nah mek yuh hair thicker, but irony is shaving my hairy lip for casting a shadow only to have micro razor cuts darken the area.

Doing laser hair removal on a barely-there moustache is like giving community police military weapons for regular patrols.

According to laser hair removal companies, you need eight to twelve sessions to get the full result. Between those sessions you can’t bleach, pluck or wax the hairs – you’ll be looking like Super Mario but they promise you’ll see results.

If you ask me, that sounds like a sketchy plastic surgeon’s delay and dodge tactic: “Your breast implants aren’t malformed. You should wait one year to see the full results then we’ll discuss refunds.” But while da tebbe at home waiting, the doc done pack up shop and moved to Thailand.

And did you know that laser treatment can cause some hairs to grow longer and thicker? DAS DA OPPOSITE OF WHY I’M HERE, LINDA!

So you tell me, are any of those options worth it when I could simply go to the beauty supply store and buy concealer and cover my smokey lip makeup? Future me thinks not. Past me on the other hand…

I should have gone to bed but sometimes impatience gets in the way of common sense.

I sniffed the half-empty bottle of Nair. How important are expiration dates anyways? What if I keep the product on longer, you know, in case “expired” just means “less effective”?

Aaand, that’s why it’s called Nair; that fossilised tube of liquid razors had me singing Nearer, My God, to Thee! Depilatory? More like debilitating!

I sent my sisters a video message: “Dear Fada, me jus bun off me face! Before ya force me ta live like a likkle hatched-faced gyal, me beg ya a forgive me vanity. Please avenge yuh faithful servant n rain hail, brimstone n fiya pon di beauty industry.”

Caught up in a spirit they typed: “Pahahahaha skjskjskj whahaha. Gyal you a fool.” I went to bed clutching an ice pack to my face. Thankfully the Nair cream didn’t incinerate my flesh — leaving my gums and teeth exposed.

To beauty gurus who swear waxing makes hair thinner so we eventually won’t need it; Who among you has reached hairless Nirvana? I’ll wait.

Shout out to all the moustaches that don’t regrow as freakishly thick mink stoles.

Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy. OniciaMuller.com