Even… if you are some guy… who was in a terrible train-accident which has left all of your bones shattered and every single member of your family dead as doornails and if you only have a teeny tiny fragment of your funny bone left in your body, I can still make you laugh. Hahahaha!! I am a funny guy, a very funny guy. Heeeheeeheeeee.


      When I’m not killing audiences with my unique blend of comedy, I’m expanding my repertoire of fun. To show you all the unique faces of Jofus, I’ve written almost 100 stories on this blog. Each story was introduced by somebody who is not funny but I, Jofus, can make funny the way…. the way…. little bunny rabbits make poop-pellets. Hohohohoho!! I make it all the time! So I’m working on masks to wear to be previous characters on this blog like Stephen Joyce, Walt Whitman, and these guys. And then I’ll introduce myself and then read the story. Wahwahwahwahwah!!

 

 


  A Story By Jofus

In London, Ontario, there was a man who crayoned a crude drawing of his identical twin onto his belly. The man had no identical twin in real life nor did he have any drawing talent. All he had was a belly which was large enough to be a canvas for his dream of constant company. The man’s name was Floyd. He named his blue-eyed twin brother, Obadiah, and his round little red mouth was always puckered up with shock. After five years and 12 crayola crayons, Floyd had reached the end of his rope. He pulled up his Rush concert t-shirt in the middle of aisle 7 in Safeway. “You’re only capable of shock! Is that right? You’re a one-note friend. Give me something else.” Obadiah replied with shocked silence. Floyd punched himself in the belly and three days later started his search for another hobby, something other than familial friendship.

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