My Throat Hurt. I Couldn’t Breathe. I’ve Rarely Had More Fun.
Please. Stop it. No. Don’t. A Funny man nearly breaks my funny bone. What he speaks on is deadly serious.
“So, I’d applied to be a police officer (it’s always been on my bucket list). I made the final round, and two detectives show up at the house, unannounced, to see what my home life is like, and I’m not home. Wendy (my wife) answers the door. They’re doing a background check on me after I passed the physical. They show her their badges.
Wendy says, ‘Look at this, two detectives at my front door first thing in the morning. Just like old times. Come on in!’
After they’ve walked around the house, they sat down and explained the job. Then the detectives tell Wendy that there’s a one million-dollar insurance policy on my life. Does she have any questions?
‘Yes. One million dollars?’
‘Yes. A million dollars.’
Wendy pauses. Thinks.
‘Does he really have to wear protective vest?’ she deadpans.
That’s my lovely wife.”
I was in pain. My sides hurt so much from laughing that I was hoarse. My throat hurt. My stomach ached.
