Say Hello To My Little Friend.......

“I can never tell when you're being serious.” is a statement that is often levelled at me at least a couple of times a week. That, and, “Would you please put some clothes on, your scaring the cat.”

Let me make it clear from the off, I have an incredibly sarcastic nature. At no point during any conversation can I resist letting off at least one riposte, or have one withering, sarcastic comment leave my lips before I have a chance to cram it back into my open, stupid mouth. I honestly can’t help it. It is like my own form of personality Tourettes. But instead of randomly shouting out “Sacrilegious ballbags!” during a conversation, I will find some small nugget of information in the dialog just spoken that amuses me, and then proceed to rip the piss out of it until the other person gets a rolled up magazine and starts beating me round the head with it. But it’s not my fault. It honestly isn’t. I have a disease.

During a deep and meaningful with my girlfriend one time (I don't actually know how she feels about me talking about us on an open forum like this. So if at one point this blog suddenly stops, assume she doesn’t like it one little bit, and has viciously attacked my genitals with a nail file and is now wearing them as decorative earrings) she said that the reason she thinks I am never serious is a defence mechanism, if anyone tries to get to know me by talking about something personal, I dodge it by attempting to say something amusing to put them off the subject. She also said one other time that I was just an irritatingly annoying bastard. (Freud has nothing on my other half)

So now that leave me in a bit of a conundrum. People can never tell when I am actually being serious or not. So in certain social moments, I can be left in some rather awkward situations. If someone cooks a nice meal for me and I compliment it (“That was a really lovely meal. Tasted so nice”), to them I am just taking the piss. If I ever tried to tell a friend that they have been there for me and that I’m glad they are in my life (“You're such a great person. I’m so glad we’re friends”), well, I’d probably end up getting hit because they would think I was just being my normal sarcastic slef.

So now I find myself mentally checking what I am going to say next over and over in my head before I say it. Which normally leaves about a five second delay before I reply to someone. Which normally makes me look like I am a little bit slow.

One time, I forgot to do any checking and nearly blurted something out without thinking about it. I was so panicked I clamped my hand over my mouth just before I spoke, causing the words to hide quivering behind my tonsils in fear. Never again. So now I agonize over word selection. Scrutinize the order in which they will go in. I go over my tone of voice. Too smarmy? Too game show host? Every conversation is a proverbial minefield as I can feel my sarcasm beating away inside my minds, screaming “Let me live"!” But I won’t.

But I know it’s in there.

So now it just abuses me.

In the morning when I wake up and look in the mirror (“Oh my god, you are so handsome, aren’t you?”), when I try and impress by saying something clever (“That was such an intelligent thing to say. People are really impressed with you.”). I can even hear it in my head now as I am writing (“Look at all those words you have written. I am so proud of you!”).

But it doesn’t matter. It honestly doesn’t. Because I will beat you sarcasm. I will beat you and join the rest of natural society. One day.

Thank you for reading this.

Oh, and by the way. Those shoes look so nice on you.