This may come as a shock to many of you, given my naturally ridiculous outlook on life, but I really don’t like April Fool’s Day much. Mostly because when I make a “joke,” it’s typically something like a bad pun about an obscure movie or TV show or something. No one laughs except me, and we move on with our day — no one gets hurt. But on April Fool’s Day, it’s like the world’s definition of a “joke” goes from being something starting with “a priest and a rabbi walk into a bar,” and transforms into “which of my friends can be the biggest A-hole.” If I open a bottle of ketchup and it explodes all over me, I don’t think “gee, what a great joke,” I think: “what the hell, why did Kevin cause a bottle of ketchup to explode all over my clothes?!” That’s not April Fool’s Day, that’s “Kevin’s a D*** Day.” Also, I don’t really get where the “fool” aspect of it comes into play. When I put a spoonful of sugar on my oatmeal, and it turns out to be salt because someone switched it out for April Fool’s Day, is that supposed to make me the “fool” for trusting that there was sugar in the sugar container? Or is the guy who switched it out supposed to be a fool like a court-jester for having pulled the prank? Because I’m pretty sure if any court jester had pulled that kind of trick on a king back in the day, the king would’ve had him decapitated quicker than you can say “jay slash kay.” Regardless of the origin, I suggest that we — as the civilized group of humans that we are — put an end to the low-brow, low-class, tasteless humor that April Fool’s Day represents and take a stand for dignity and honour (it’s extra classy to spell words the British way).
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go take a dump in a bucket and hide it in my roommate’s room before he finds out that I switched out his milk with a jug of rotten milk I’ve been hiding under the radiator until today.