Comedy Just Being Funny

You’ve been struck by a sleepy criminal — Just Being Funny

I’m in bed when I hear my roommate walk from her bedroom to the kitchen. Now I can’t sleep because I’m wondering what she’s up to at three in the morning. She’s the type of person to “mop” the entire kitchen floor with half a roll of triple-ply napkins instead of using well… a mop.

Next thing you know, I hear what can only be described as a full-grown grizzly bear mixed with Chewbacca snoring.

Dang, was she sleeping with her door open?

As if the snoring wasn’t enough, I then hear her stomping around as if Kirk Franklin literally asked her for the stomp, the whole stomp, and nothing but the stomp.

How many minutes until 6 am?

Thud! Bam! Boom! Silence. Welp, knocking yourself out is one way to stop snoring. I snuggle under the covers and attempt to fall back to sleep.

Ah, criminy. The grizzly Chewbacca snores resumed. I peep out my door to see that her door is closed. A glow was coming from the kitchen. If she was in her bedroom, who was snoring in the kitchen?!

Listen, Antoine Dodson said, “hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wife, and hide yo’ husband ’cause they rapein’ everybody up here!” So, I hide in my closet and dial my roommate’s phone.

Was this intruder some formerly incarcerated man she was pen pals with (I done told you she was special) or were we being robbed by a sleepy criminal?

I heard her phone buzzing, but she didn’t answer. Was she screening my calls? I dialed again. No answer. Dang it Linda, you’re gonna sleep through the rapture?!

In case she was screening my calls, I decided to text her. “Do you have guests?” Send. Wait. Copy. Paste. Send. Wait. No response.

She might have been okay getting murdered in her sleep, but I wanted to L I V E!

So, I do the Christian thing and leave my hiding spot to warn her of the intruder. Yo, if this were a horror film, I was definitely dying first. And she was dying second.

I make it to her room without awakening our Bob the sleeping burglar, and together we dialed the police.

Three officers show up to remove the half human, half Chewbacca grizzly from our apartment. Turns out he wasn’t a burglar. He was just some drunk who mistakenly entered the wrong home.

While cleaning his mud tracks (WITH A MOP, AND NOT PAPER NAPKINS) I found and kept the intruder’s earbuds. That’s what he get for keeping me up at night. 

Shout out to all the light sleepers. Please Do the right thing and try to wake some of us up for the rapture and intruders.

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.

Comedy Just Being Funny

Authentic cultural experience, my butt — Just Being Funny

Enjoying a three-course restaurant meal is nice. Not just appetizer, entree, dessert. I’m talking about a curated meal and full cultural experience; entree, side dishes, chopping of the hand for skipping the bill. You know, a full cultural experience.

We’re at this authentic Pakistani restaurant where people eat with their hands. The food was so good I dug in with all ten fingers and toes.

We ordered so much food that, if we ate it all, we’d need an Uber XXXL to drive both of us home. We resisted being glutinous and decided to take home our leftovers.

I had a friend who didn’t eat leftovers. What exactly is a leftover? Would you say no to eating an apple that was plucked from a tree the day before you got it?

Anyways, I’m home when I feel a gurgling in my belly that turned out to be a ghost poop. BTW, ever do a poop so hard your butthole pulsates?

If I was a poop, I’m not going back to the small cramped ghettos of my youths. I’d haunt fun places like Beyoncé’s mouth.

I’d have her diva fan blow my stenches back into her face and mess up her entire concentration. You think a ghost poop sabotaged Beyoncé’s 2013 Super Bowl performance?

For that same reason, I’d go roll around in the Queen of England’s mouth. People coming up, desperate to talk to the Queen, but I got she mouth smelling like doody. I’d enjoy watching her blow taxpayer money trying to eradicate my stenches from her mouth.

Anywhores, I crawl back to bed after my ghost poop. Moments later I hear my roommate in the bathroom dropping farts so earth-shattering they were off the Richter.

I snap back to reality when my roommate starts to laugh like the ghost poop had possessed their entire body. “We have diarrhoea”

WeEeEeE? DiArRhoEa? My brain couldn’t compute but with the magical D-word announced, my bowels let loose and I needed the rest room urgently.

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

We had the runnings for two days. We didn’t want to believe that our beloved authentic Pakistani restaurant was the reason we got sick. The thought of throwing out our leftovers was heart breaking.

Throwing out good food because it gives you diarrhoea is like breaking up with a bad boyfriend with bomb dick. Sure he gave you the clap but no one makes you feel as good as he do.

It was tough giving up our bad food. We actually contemplated how many more days of diarrhoea was worth enjoying another serving. Thankfully common sense reigned and we threw the food out.

Shout out to all the Yelpers who posted their diarrhoea stories. Without y’all we wouldn’t know which restaurants offer authentic cultural experiences.

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.

Comedy Just Being Funny

Two locos, a pay bus, and a gospel music battle – Just Being Funny

Tourists who squeeze they entire posse in we tiny pay bus does burn me. Hello, vacation is to spend money. “WhEn Is ThE BuS cOmInG?” When your rental coming?! Yuh cheap vacation booking, no budget having, bad tipping modda–  

On a serious, people playing music through speakers does annoy me too. Even when they have a half-good tune, their cheap speakers mess the whole vibe up.

A day there I was so wex with these Pay Bus DJs™, I decided the next person to play music through their speakers gonna get embarrassed.

Boom. Bam. This man come blasting music at the bus stop. And, like usual, the bus driver ain’t reprimand him.

Mans could be plotting to roll up on a John who shorted he bottom ho (#TrueStory) and drivers ain’t doing squat ‘cause they pay bus fare.

Which reminds me. Dear regional tourists: Congrats on your wholesale hustle or whatever, but you’re on a business trip — spend the five dollars and get a gipsy taxi. Your woven square bags filled with rainbow coloured, discounted polyester taking up ten seats! All squeezed up in a corner sweating.

But back to this man blasting terrible music from he rickety speaker. I really wanted to curse him and his church songs out. 

My friends said to play satanic music. Obviously, I was getting new friends because I rather be alone in heaven than hotting up hell with the homies.

Cursing out religious people for sharing their faith — even if they are doing it in the most annoying way — is not a good look.

Me ain’t disrespecting no one’s faith ‘cause there’s always a chance my beliefs are wrong. I ain’t risking The One True God™’s wrath over music.

Some “friends” suggested taking a taxi since I hated the bus so much.

Ever take a taxi 15-minute ride and the bill, excluding tip, is 15 years wage? That does just mess up the whole vibe. How am I supposed to enjoy Becky’s party when I done spent more on taxi than I was willing to spend on dinner and a gift?! See how my presence is a present?

I gave the Pay Bus DJ a taste of their own medicine by interrupting his Jamie Grace with Kirk Franklin and his bomb brass section. He responded with some whispering Christian Pop. I upped my volume and blasted TobyMac. (Yeah, I got that good Christian hip-hop.)

Here’s the thing: Our speakers were equally weak. But since I was sitting at the front of the bus, people entering had no context and gave me all the dirty looks.

They didn’t know he started it first and that I was trying to teach him a lesson. No, all they saw was two locos having a gospel music battle on the bus.

Shout out to the people wearing earbuds but their music still bleads out, at least you’re trying. And if you’re not trying, may the Ghost of Hearing Loss Future visit you soon.