Humor

Oh good. Having carried out my Facebook threat, holding all 47 of my "friends" hostage over the Internet (definitely a feeling of power -- denying 47 people your presence without their explicit consent aforethought by cancelling Facebook altogether) yesterday I was in the kitchen making a rosé sauce, Brigitte being on rat patrol, and I suddenly and bizarrely laughed a truly devilish laugh out of nowhere.

You know how sometimes when you're completely alone, and you know it? You accidentally mutter something to yourself, then, having realised that no one else was listening, amplified the muttering, just for your own pleasure? Perhaps it was a German word, like "Achtung." Perhaps you were mentioning it under your breath to the slice of cheese you were gingerly cutting, acutely aware that the next few seconds determined whether you were going to spend the next few hours in Emergency, or not. "Achtung!" you would whisper, then, gaining confidence, "ACHTUNG!" at the top of your lungs. No one except you heard it, you can rest easy now.

Well, that. Anyway, my own laugh so startled me in its evilness, its unbrokered Vincent-Priceishness, that, if it is indeed possible, I backed away from myself in pure fear.

That was when I decided I have a future in voiceover, if not radio. If my own laugh can scare ME, what can it do to a legion of souls listening to me imitate Vlad the Terrible in a commercial for Furnitureworld in a 5 a.m. spot the day before Halloween?

These things can only be imagined, dear readers, thank all the fates.

HOWEVER

In spite of the fact that there are terrors that are real -- that I have to board several pressurized aluminum/composite emission-spewing tubes from here through Detroit and Tokyo to Osaka next Tuesday -- I know my laugh will get me through.

The horror outdoors as I type, though, is not so easy to dismiss.