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"No More Mister Nice Guy"

"OK, that's it! No more mister nice guy." (Hitler's alleged response to the Allied 
invasion of Normandy.)

* * *

I just don't feel funny today, so hate me. I have my serious moments too, you know. 
I'm tired of cheering everybody up all the time. What thanks do I get? I'm sick of 
being laughed at and being called good old devil-may-care Jack. I think I'm going 
to go away.

A great artist has to suffer. Van Gogh, for instance, cut off his ear for the woman 
he loved. She said, "You did this for me?" and he said, "What?"

There you go, folks. That's your joke for today. Now, why don't you go read Dave Barry 
or Dalton Roberts and leave me alone?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that lately things have been going wrong.

I had a few drinks at a party and woke up with both of them in one eye.

Somebody stole my brand new burglar alarm.

I ate a bowl of wax fruit by mistake, and now my hair is growing up into a wick!

The only thing left for me to do now is put on a trench coat, while standing under a 
lamp post, and walk slowly off into the darkness, towards Murfreesboro.

Don't try to cheer me up. It's too late for that. Just bring up the music... "Set 'em 
up, Joe...", and I'll turn and wave to you as I fade into the mist with a smile and a 
tear, and disappear.

And then everyone will shout, "Ha-ha! Good old Jack. what a card!"

And that's what BURNS ME UP!

Copyright  January 20, 2001 by Jack Blanchard. All rights reserved.

 

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