Hello. This is the first thing I have ever written. I am hoping it is funny to others. I'm not sure what it is... Stand up, random joke, sort of sketch thing. But I've just written it today and thought what the hell... I'm going to ask some strangers that I know ARE funny to critique. I am prepared for negativity and constructive criticism. It is a first draft. I know it needs rewriting and must be technically poor as I don't know anything technical! I really do want to learn about all things funny. And how to get it out from my brain so it retains its humour on paper.
I am very yellow... and green. Please be gentle with me. Here goes... it's about animals.
Thank you.
EWok
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I love wildlife documentaries. Not in a nerdy way. In a proper cool geek chic kind of way. Obviously. I know loads about all creatures weird and wonderful and like to impress people with my superior knowledge of the animal kingdom. Did you know a female donkey's milk is the closest in nature to human milk? It's a little known fact. S.M.A know all about it - Synthetic Milk from Ass. If you look very closely the little kid on the front of the tin has buck teeth and tiny hooves.
I watched an animal programme recently called 'Deadly 60' which follows the most dangerous creatures on the planet. It's a kids one, like the Really Wild Show but funked up for the 21st century. Goodbye bleach blonde locks of Chris Packham, hello rugged musclebound Dr Dolittle, Steve Backshall. Think an Indiana Jones-esque Terry Nutkins with his shiny bald spot, mega mullet and light blue stone-washed jeans combined with a whip, a grin and a moody, aloof attitude yet all the girls want to be his mother kind of aura. One minute, he's running from a mammoth boulder looking sexy, the next he's filming an Orca casually releasing a seal from its giant jaws and throwing it up into the sky whilst looking smouldering. That's just the kind of guy he is. And this Dr Doolittle Indiana Jones is far superior to any Spielberg created character franchise for no longer does he fear the asp. Oh no, Steve Backshall loves asp. He whoops and flails effeminately at the mere glimpse of an elusive serpent. Just listen to this. This is the actual line he used to describe rattlesnakes whilst tracking them in some atypical desert.... Gobi, Sahara, you choose.... take your pick, the joke will still work. He called the rattlesnake 'a sophisticated asp.' Oh how I coyly had to smother my laughter into my handkerchief. 'A sophisticated asp.' Just imagine it. A pair of upper class housewife rattlesnakes, living in some poncy Stepford wives suburb of the desert, slithering across the sand, with their hessian shopping baskets and abnormally high inflections at the end of every sentence, looking down their noses at the inferior chav rats and spotty adolescent lizards, half of them pregnant by their 15th birthday. Smugly they slither... 'Come Felicity, let's slide into Waitrose and grab some crudites and antipasto. Do you care to partake in some snuff Felicity?' They cautiously dodge the verbally abusive mongoose with their imitation gold bling on their claws, falling out of the local drinking establishment. Finding it hard to visualise? Think Wetherspoons. 'Oh do hurry Felicity, it's not safe. The crack head geckos may stab us for our 2008 oak aged vintage chardonnay. Quick, to the penthouse. Hurry. Come.'