247 - Worlds Longest PUNchline

A moth goes into a podiatrist's office.

The podiatrist says, what's the problem? The moth says, where do I begin with my problems? Every day I go to work for Gregory and all day long I toil.

But what is my work? I'm a bureaucrat.

And so every day I joylessly move papers from one place to another and then back again.

I no longer know what it is I actually do.

And I don't even know if Gregory knows.

He only knows that he has power over me.

And this seems to bring him much happiness.

And where is my happiness? It is when I wake in the morning and I do not know who I am.

In that single moment, I am happy.

In that single moment before, the memory of who I am strikes me like a cane and I take to the streets and I walk in malaise here and then there and then here again.

Then it's time to go to work.

Others stop asking me what I do for a living long, long ago.

But they know I will have no answer and I will fix my empty eyes upon them.

And they fear my melancholia might prove so deep as to be contagious.

Sometimes in the dark and the deepest dark of night, I awaken my bed and I turn to my right.

And with horror, I see some old lady lying on my arm.

An old lady that I once loved.

Doc, and once, and whose flesh I once found splendor and now see only decay.

An old lady who insults me by her very existence.

I might skip the middle bit.

Yeah.

It's such a long

joke.

Go for it.