Something humorous

      "You've not written anything Funny in months," Lisa complained.
      "How did you capitalize Funny like that when you were speaking?" I asked. "And it's true that I've not been feeling funny lately, but there have been moments of hilarity in the blog."
      "Right," she said. "Name three."
      "The cold weather, weight loss and … uh … NaNo," I said.
      "I'll give you the cold weather and weight loss, but National Novel Writing Month wasn't. Peculiar, yes, but funny, no."
      "Oh, I was laughing the whole time I participated," I said.
      "Mad laughter doesn't count," she said. "Otherwise the Bush Administration would be a Font of Funny. And I’m using Font in the sense of a Fountain, not in the sense of a Typeface."
      "You're doing that capital thing again," I said. "LeT ME trY."
      "Amateur," she said, scorn dripping from her voice. "Leave Capitals to the Professionals. But let's get back to the subject."
      I stepped out of the puddle of scorn she was creating and said, "I promise to write more funny stuff over the next few months."
      "Now," she demanded in that cute adorable way she has that makes her sound like Hitler's sister.
      "But I don't have anything funny to talk about," I said. "The ice has kept me penned in my house except for my daily treks to work and back. And no one wants me to walk on the ice because of my back."
      "Yeah, you should stay off the ice," she said. "After all, you can trip on lint so I shudder to think what you'd do to yourself on ice."
      "You make it sound like I try to hurt myself," I said.
      'That's one theory being bandied around," she said.
      "About," I said.
      "What?"
      "Bandied about, not bandied around," I said. "And that's ridiculous. Why would I do that?"
      "To get attention," she said.
      "I get plenty of attention without being hurt!" I said.
      "Black police vans watching your house don't count," she said.
      "Oh. Well, I still get plenty of attention."
      "And you can't count protective orders," she said.
      "There hasn't been a protective order filed against me for a long time," I said. "Maybe even a week!"
      "That long?" she muttered. "Will wonders ever cease?"
      "You know, you've developed a sarcastic streak that is simply not becoming," I said.
      "Coming from the Sultan of Sarcasm, that can only be a compliment," she said.
      "If I'm the Sultan, you're the B-"
      "Watch it!"
      "—elle of Biting Remarks," I said smugly.
      "This isn't about me," she said. "It's about you posting something humorous on your blog."
      "I will," I said. "In fact, I think I know exactly what to post tonight."
      "Why are you smiling like that?" she asked suspiciously.
      "No reason. No reason at all."

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