This. Is. Not. Funny.

I often wonder why some stories make the news or some stuff goes viral. And I guess I’m not helping by publicizing it here but anyway…

Take the story of these girls who, according to everyone on the Internet (or at least Yahoo!), pulled the “best yearbook prank ever.”

In case you missed it, here it is:


Okay, so do you see what I see? Give it a minute and let it sink it because all I see is a bunch of girls with the same last name and in alphabetical order according to their first name as is the protocol.

And that’s about it.

Oh, wait! I see it now! They’re all of the same ethnicity! And wait, they’re wearing the same outfit and the same hairstyle! I got it now! WOAH-HO-HO, is this ever a knee-slapper! One for the ages!


No. No it isn’t. THIS IS NOT FUNNY, people! Wearing the same outfit does nothing but make you look like you are in a school organization like, say, Glee Club or Corsairs; the only difference here is that they are not on a page specifically reserved for a school organization. For all anybody knows, they could have been in a club and had a meeting on the day they posed for their senior pictures.

And you know what would have been funny? The same “prank” but with rainbow afro wigs and clown noses as outfits. Or using the same (and unexpected) names like Sarah Lee I, II, III, IV, etc.

Comedy is about timing and the unexpected happening in unexpected places – get your mind out of the gutter, boy-o – and in my opinion, what these ladies did was about as bland as a bowl of melting unflavored ice milk.

Now let me give you a few examples of what I think is how to illicit quality, unexpected laughs from your audience.

See? I bet you laughed at one of those, didn’t you? No wondering or guessing what the payoff was – you got it and it was worth it.

This yearbook thing? Not so much.

At least for me…then again, it’s been 25 years since I was a high school senior…


There’s nothing that I can say that I haven’t already said about the man I love, the man I miss, and the man who left me as a child on this day in 1976.

But I will type them once again through eyes that are swelling with tears.


Dad, I love you and miss you. I still hope with all my heart that I can be at least half the father to Anthony as you were to me. Despite the demons that haunted you and unnecessarily ended your life too soon, there wasn’t a day that I don’t recall seeing a smile on your face and making me happy.

It’s hard to deal with even 36 years later. Sadness, frustration, downright anger. I feel them all and should because no child should have to deal with losing the one person in their life they think is indestructible.

But I have, and chances are you’d be damn proud of how I’ve picked up and carried on. And even if a tear still falls now and then, I know you’d be the first one by my side to cheer me up. You were like that. I can see you doing it.

I’m also quite sure you’d be proud of your grandson who is too much like me. I tell him stories of us and he can’t believe what he hears.

I can’t say much more. The tears are starting to be too much and my heart is heavy.

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Goodnight, Dad.