To me self-depreciating humour is honest. It shows that the person who made it (or on the receiving end) accepted that some things are they are and aren't going to let it become a hindrance. When you are making a joke about yourself you are telling others that 'yes I am as human as you are', perhaps helping to put the others at ease as he or she is just as imperfect as they are.
People react to things they cannot change their own ways, either by complaining, ranting or crying about it. Others chose to shrug and let bygones be bygones, whilst some chose to laugh about it. In most cases it's a good source of amusing story to impress or entertain people with.
I can recall a time when a family friend was warning us to be careful about what they eat as part of his recollection of a recent trip to the Middle Kingdom - he had a bad stomach upset from the journey, having to squeeze cheese in the cold weather. The biggest laughter came when his wife put a hand on the shoulder asking if he's all right, in which he responded with "Don't touch me" - he reenacted the scene by putting both palms up and face deadpan. Everybody who listened were in tears.
Yes, we were laughing at his misfortune but a large part of humour comes from the fact that we have all been in that situation before some time in our lives. The fact that he could joke about it makes it all the funnier. The idea that you aren't the only one suffering from problems of such is 'comforting' or creates a level field that helps one from becoming overly defensive from such embarassment.
 |
| "I'm sorry ma'am but it's not a stomach ache that you're having". |
I picked up this brand of humour mostly from British football forum of RAWK. The people in Britain seemed to revel in laughing at their own misfortunes, living proof of people who made lemonade when life handed them lemons. Some stories that they put in there were not only hillariously funny, told good-naturedly either as a rant or just story-telling.
The Kop End recently had a match versus archnemesis Manchester United following a defeat to a freak goal that had the goalkeeper diving to catch a beach ball that strayed onto the pitch instead of the actual match ball. Obviously it became the biggest news in English football for a while. The Manchester United supporters were already looking to do the same thing when they visit Anfield to taunt the opposition but had the beach balls confiscated. And guess what, The Kop inflated plenty of their own beach balls and threw it onto the pitch. This to me is a classic example of 'so what?', in the context of a setback - they aren't deflated by it and are undefeated as fans. All feedback (I've read) regarding the Kop raining beach balls onto the hallowed turf has been accepted positively.
There are caveats in telling such jokes though. It is always important to know the audience. People who don't appreciate it won't, regardless of how well you tell it. Some aren't very receptive of the idea of depreciating one self, considering it as a weakness by being so happy about it. I know it sounds narrow minded but there are merits to that kind of stance though it's a little extreme IMO.
And there's the important bit of flair to consider. Not everybody is a good storyteller and not everybody can tell something which would normally be unacceptable in a presentable way. Imagine if the family friend above happen to be lousy at story telling and ended up making the story sound like he has got no control over his bodily functions - the end result wouldn't be funny and probably stamp him with a weirdo mark on the forehead.
I've written a few pieces on a forum that I frequent that is close enough to what can be called a self-depreciating story just to entertain myself and those who bother to read. Those who did get the joke appreciated it whilst others wondered what was it all about.
Suffice to say there is a need for practice before I'm capable of telling so like those chaps at the British Isle but as they say, practice makes perfect.
--
The Plumber In Me
18 April 2006
Two days ago I discovered that the kitchen sink faucet knob was broken (Whatever you call it). Upon inspection, found out that the inside plastic mould was broken. It's still usable though, but the thing is wobbly every time you turn it and will eventually break anyway. So, the mission:
Went to Giant Hypermarket immediately on my way back today, saw faucets, electrical goods etc all in one hypermarket.
It's a convenient life this.
Bought all the usual stuff - fluroscent tube lamp, a kitchen sink faucet and a towel.
Well, needed new towels anyway.
Got home and started about the first job and the 'hardest' one - the faucet. Needed to finish it all before I go to bath as I'd definitely end up sweaty.
Now, recalling my studies back in school in the subject of Living Skills, the first thing to do before doing any sort of plumbing is to turn of the main water valve.
"I know it's here somewhere, saw it a few times, turned it off before too", I muttered as I searched around the cabinets.
Found one. Funny, it doesn't twist fully as it used to but I was sure this was the one. Turned the thing to 'off'.
All right, the fun part - dismantling the faucet. The pointy-part-thing came out easily. The twisting of the whole pipe was hard, but with some force it began to turn. Got easier and easier until I noticed - water was leaking.
"Heck. I turned the valve off already".
The more I turned the more it leaked, so I went back to the valve and turned the thing clockwise until it can no longer move.
Still leaking.
Hmmm...
"Even if it leaks the pressure is likely to be quite low now, it'll flow down the sink", I thought as I made the final twist.
A few seconds later I found out the truth:
"WRONG VALVE!!!" I shouted. A strong jet of water sprayed fiercely into my face feeling like I was face to face with a garden hose. Tried to force the thing back in to get some thinking time but it was just too strong.
The only redeeming part was that I have yet to have my bath and I was naked except for towel covering my lower body.
Soaked.
The kitchen was getting wet and I must think fast and it was what I did - took a water hose, plugged the thing in and let it flow into the sink.
It worked.
Called my brother who onced did all the DIY in the house to ask about where the REAL valve is. He's in East Malaysia.
"Where's the main water valve?"
"Which one? You're breaking up".
"Valve, the water valve".
"Water what?"
"VALVE, WATER VALVE, MAIN VALVE!".
"Oh valve. Which one?".
"THE KITCHEN SINK!".
"Check the cabinet... should be under the sink. What's up?".
"Faucet broken. Needed to fix it".
"Broken? Isn't that metal?"
"No, plastic".
"I thought it was metal".
"No".
"So how's it there".
"About the same".
"Any mails for me?".
"Your SBL". He had a freelance contractor thing back then.
"How goes the place?".
"Tell you what, talk to you later. I'm wet here".
To be frank, I wasn't in the mood to talk then.
Found the valve, turned it off and there... the water finally stopped.
The rest was normal as I fixed the faucet in with slight problems. The metal connector from the wall was somewhat old, so some bit of the inside sorta cracked.
Great.
Took me four tries to get it to seal properly.
My housemate came back, "What happened back there?".
"The faucet was broken".
Knowing me well, she didn't ask anymore questions.
Five minutes later, all was good again.
Fixed the faucet and we have running water again.
Water all over the floor. Towel wet. Drenched kitchen mat. Some cuts to the hand from the window.
Water all over the floor.
I can now rest assure that brushing my teeth in the morning is now guaranteed for the rest of my days living in this house.
- to replace the faulty faucet
- to replace the fluoroscent lamp
Went to Giant Hypermarket immediately on my way back today, saw faucets, electrical goods etc all in one hypermarket.
It's a convenient life this.
Bought all the usual stuff - fluroscent tube lamp, a kitchen sink faucet and a towel.
Well, needed new towels anyway.
Got home and started about the first job and the 'hardest' one - the faucet. Needed to finish it all before I go to bath as I'd definitely end up sweaty.
Now, recalling my studies back in school in the subject of Living Skills, the first thing to do before doing any sort of plumbing is to turn of the main water valve.
"I know it's here somewhere, saw it a few times, turned it off before too", I muttered as I searched around the cabinets.
Found one. Funny, it doesn't twist fully as it used to but I was sure this was the one. Turned the thing to 'off'.
All right, the fun part - dismantling the faucet. The pointy-part-thing came out easily. The twisting of the whole pipe was hard, but with some force it began to turn. Got easier and easier until I noticed - water was leaking.
"Heck. I turned the valve off already".
The more I turned the more it leaked, so I went back to the valve and turned the thing clockwise until it can no longer move.
Still leaking.
Hmmm...
"Even if it leaks the pressure is likely to be quite low now, it'll flow down the sink", I thought as I made the final twist.
A few seconds later I found out the truth:
"WRONG VALVE!!!" I shouted. A strong jet of water sprayed fiercely into my face feeling like I was face to face with a garden hose. Tried to force the thing back in to get some thinking time but it was just too strong.
The only redeeming part was that I have yet to have my bath and I was naked except for towel covering my lower body.
Soaked.
The kitchen was getting wet and I must think fast and it was what I did - took a water hose, plugged the thing in and let it flow into the sink.
It worked.
Called my brother who onced did all the DIY in the house to ask about where the REAL valve is. He's in East Malaysia.
"Where's the main water valve?"
"Which one? You're breaking up".
"Valve, the water valve".
"Water what?"
"VALVE, WATER VALVE, MAIN VALVE!".
"Oh valve. Which one?".
"THE KITCHEN SINK!".
"Check the cabinet... should be under the sink. What's up?".
"Faucet broken. Needed to fix it".
"Broken? Isn't that metal?"
"No, plastic".
"I thought it was metal".
"No".
"So how's it there".
"About the same".
"Any mails for me?".
"Your SBL". He had a freelance contractor thing back then.
"How goes the place?".
"Tell you what, talk to you later. I'm wet here".
To be frank, I wasn't in the mood to talk then.
Found the valve, turned it off and there... the water finally stopped.
The rest was normal as I fixed the faucet in with slight problems. The metal connector from the wall was somewhat old, so some bit of the inside sorta cracked.
Great.
Took me four tries to get it to seal properly.
My housemate came back, "What happened back there?".
"The faucet was broken".
Knowing me well, she didn't ask anymore questions.
Five minutes later, all was good again.
Fixed the faucet and we have running water again.
Water all over the floor. Towel wet. Drenched kitchen mat. Some cuts to the hand from the window.
Water all over the floor.
I can now rest assure that brushing my teeth in the morning is now guaranteed for the rest of my days living in this house.
What Is Pain?
6 December 2005
The grammatical mistakes aside, perhaps it's good to look at things in perspective.
Ask ten people and you may get ten different answers to the question above. Each and everyone of us had felt pain throughout our lives, knowing full well the sensation that borders on both being uncomfortable and downright torture.
It doesn't happen too often though - sometimes it's physical, sometimes is mental, sometimes it's emotional. Everybody feels it once in a while, each of different magnitudes and causes.
For instance, imagine a drive home from work one evening. You've just had a good dinner at the nearby eatery to celebrate an occassion, maybe just to pamper oneself once in a while. Whatever the reason, you just know you wanna go home and sink into that soft and welcoming bed of yours.
The cruise was as normal as it can be as you enjoy the nice music from your favourite channel on the radio. One after another, you sang to your heart's desire, sometimes bordering on the scream just to let it all off. The quiet hum of the cool air-conditioner adds to the ambience.
You enter another highway from the busy intersection, paid the toll and continued on for the next 2 km of journey before you could call it a day at home. But for a short pause at the automated toll collection gate, it went well for a bit before you were stopped abruptly due to some congestion ahead.
"Well, this must be one of those stalled cars again". Your experience told you that it will be slow but you will at least be moving so you patiently sit through the jam, listening on to the lovely voice of the DJ you so hope to meet one day.
Half an hour passed and you have barely passed 1km. For some unknown reason, the jam was unusually bad along that stretch of highway. That stalled car you expected to see 15 minutes ago had yet to appear. It was stop for 30 seconds, move another 2 metres, then another 30 seconds of stop, then for another 2 more metres. Rinse, repeat.
Your left leg, placed firmly on the clutch began to hurt at the sole but that was something you live with, no problems. It's not everyday that the stretch of highway get unsually jammed like this.
It was that sensation in the bladder that worries you. For the past 15 minutes it had been slowly crawling towards [Empty Me] level and you know, unless a dramatic improvement in traffic flow happens, you may need to dramatically flow the urine, somewhere. Rather, forced to.
You kept your mind away from the heavy feeling the bladder as you inched towards the road ahead, wondering if this isn't about a stalled car - more of a congestion the part of the intersection ahead.
Two lanes of cars are trying to squeeze into one to go northwards, plus another two more from the direction of the south, both squeezing further into two lanes as it passes in front of the mall you pass by everyday to and fro the office. Constructions of ramps and elevated intersections are being done, so a reduction in traffic flow is expected but this one was TOO MUCH!
Your
expression of listening to Destiny's Child became 
, graduating into 
before slowly going into 
and ending up as 
, and as the very uncomfortable feeling in your bladder, squeezed by the zipper and belt became, painful.
I repeat, painful.
Painful.
An hour had passed and you've just reached the last 800 metres before the turning into your housing estate and traffic was at last, beginning to flow, albeit ultra slowly. The only difference is that it moves, instead of stop, hop, stop, stop, crawl, stop stop stop, crawl, stop - it became, stop, hop, stop, crawl, crawl, stop, stop, stop, crawl, stop.
Talk about progress.
And as you turn into the four lane-shrunk-into-two-because-of-construction-work km, you saw what was, the true reason for the problem.
2 km worth of traffic jam from the City (traffic City and Satellite Township merge at the toll plaza) + 2 km of traffic from the new township westwards + all the traffic going out the Mines (mall) was caused, by, a stalled bus, at one of the two ONLY lanes heading that direction. Oh, add the unusual amount of queue-cutting people from four directions.
That highway, called SILK is the only one going directly to Cheras, a densely populated suburb of KL.
Imagine a bus, reducing that two lanes of road into one.
You breathed heavily and prayed hard as sweat streamed down your temple, trying hard to relax as the bladder cries out for release, the pain becoming more and more pronounced by the second, the closer you get to home.
The second you made it through, you drove like a maniac down the highway and made a quick left turn into the housing estate, still managing to practice much patience as you negotiate the turns to avoid possible problems of knocking down dogs, and worst, people.
You reached home and shouted "Hosanna to the highest!!" as you parked the car and made your way out to get into the house. You stood up and felt the whole lower abdomen protesting in pain from an hour worth of stretching and contracting to keep the urine in.
Walking like a cowboy who'd just rode for 6 hours non-stop, you made your way, still, to the room to change and prepare for shower, before limping towards the bathroom.
The first sensation of letting the water flow out from the bladder was... heavenly. Never before have you felt so grateful that God gave you strong muscles in that area. Some credits to the DJ for playing songs with lots of drums and rolling ocean sounds.
As it empties, you looked up and grinned to yourself, knowing how it could have been worst : carrying a great bag of urine AND a major stomachache.
You knew you were the winner that day.
So what is pain?
Ask ten people and you may get ten different answers to the question above. Each and everyone of us had felt pain throughout our lives, knowing full well the sensation that borders on both being uncomfortable and downright torture.
It doesn't happen too often though - sometimes it's physical, sometimes is mental, sometimes it's emotional. Everybody feels it once in a while, each of different magnitudes and causes.
For instance, imagine a drive home from work one evening. You've just had a good dinner at the nearby eatery to celebrate an occassion, maybe just to pamper oneself once in a while. Whatever the reason, you just know you wanna go home and sink into that soft and welcoming bed of yours.
The cruise was as normal as it can be as you enjoy the nice music from your favourite channel on the radio. One after another, you sang to your heart's desire, sometimes bordering on the scream just to let it all off. The quiet hum of the cool air-conditioner adds to the ambience.
You enter another highway from the busy intersection, paid the toll and continued on for the next 2 km of journey before you could call it a day at home. But for a short pause at the automated toll collection gate, it went well for a bit before you were stopped abruptly due to some congestion ahead.
"Well, this must be one of those stalled cars again". Your experience told you that it will be slow but you will at least be moving so you patiently sit through the jam, listening on to the lovely voice of the DJ you so hope to meet one day.
Half an hour passed and you have barely passed 1km. For some unknown reason, the jam was unusually bad along that stretch of highway. That stalled car you expected to see 15 minutes ago had yet to appear. It was stop for 30 seconds, move another 2 metres, then another 30 seconds of stop, then for another 2 more metres. Rinse, repeat.
Your left leg, placed firmly on the clutch began to hurt at the sole but that was something you live with, no problems. It's not everyday that the stretch of highway get unsually jammed like this.
It was that sensation in the bladder that worries you. For the past 15 minutes it had been slowly crawling towards [Empty Me] level and you know, unless a dramatic improvement in traffic flow happens, you may need to dramatically flow the urine, somewhere. Rather, forced to.
You kept your mind away from the heavy feeling the bladder as you inched towards the road ahead, wondering if this isn't about a stalled car - more of a congestion the part of the intersection ahead.
Two lanes of cars are trying to squeeze into one to go northwards, plus another two more from the direction of the south, both squeezing further into two lanes as it passes in front of the mall you pass by everyday to and fro the office. Constructions of ramps and elevated intersections are being done, so a reduction in traffic flow is expected but this one was TOO MUCH!
Your
expression of listening to Destiny's Child became , graduating into before slowly going into and ending up as , and as the very uncomfortable feeling in your bladder, squeezed by the zipper and belt became, painful.I repeat, painful.
Painful.
An hour had passed and you've just reached the last 800 metres before the turning into your housing estate and traffic was at last, beginning to flow, albeit ultra slowly. The only difference is that it moves, instead of stop, hop, stop, stop, crawl, stop stop stop, crawl, stop - it became, stop, hop, stop, crawl, crawl, stop, stop, stop, crawl, stop.
Talk about progress.
And as you turn into the four lane-shrunk-into-two-because-of-construction-work km, you saw what was, the true reason for the problem.
2 km worth of traffic jam from the City (traffic City and Satellite Township merge at the toll plaza) + 2 km of traffic from the new township westwards + all the traffic going out the Mines (mall) was caused, by, a stalled bus, at one of the two ONLY lanes heading that direction. Oh, add the unusual amount of queue-cutting people from four directions.
That highway, called SILK is the only one going directly to Cheras, a densely populated suburb of KL.
Imagine a bus, reducing that two lanes of road into one.
You breathed heavily and prayed hard as sweat streamed down your temple, trying hard to relax as the bladder cries out for release, the pain becoming more and more pronounced by the second, the closer you get to home.
The second you made it through, you drove like a maniac down the highway and made a quick left turn into the housing estate, still managing to practice much patience as you negotiate the turns to avoid possible problems of knocking down dogs, and worst, people.
You reached home and shouted "Hosanna to the highest!!" as you parked the car and made your way out to get into the house. You stood up and felt the whole lower abdomen protesting in pain from an hour worth of stretching and contracting to keep the urine in.
Walking like a cowboy who'd just rode for 6 hours non-stop, you made your way, still, to the room to change and prepare for shower, before limping towards the bathroom.
The first sensation of letting the water flow out from the bladder was... heavenly. Never before have you felt so grateful that God gave you strong muscles in that area. Some credits to the DJ for playing songs with lots of drums and rolling ocean sounds.
As it empties, you looked up and grinned to yourself, knowing how it could have been worst : carrying a great bag of urine AND a major stomachache.
You knew you were the winner that day.
So what is pain?
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