Why I Hate April Fools Day
It's April Fools Day! Joy of Joys! What could be better than the whole world banning together to show their best jokes to the world en-masse?
Anything. Literally anything.
In case the title of this post was too subtle, today is like lemon juice in a paper cut to me which I'm sure people who know me may find weird because I love a good prank, I really do, but April Fools Day is the worst and here's why:
I forget. I forget April Fools Day is a thing so every year I wake up and start seeing random crazy posts on Facebook from people I don't know that well or haven't been keeping up with and believe this is what's going on in their life. Because why would you lie about being pregnant? Or getting married? Or getting a Doctorate? I can't even think of three less funny things, except North Korea saying they're going to take us all out followed by a "psyc!"
I hate forced fun. Ever been to a work Christmas party? Or a baby shower where they assign you a name tag of one half of a famous couple and you are then obliged to find your other half and "mingle"? April Fools Day is like that. The best humor is spontaneous and watching people try real hard makes me uncomfortable. Having a day where we're all officially "allowed" to make jokes is counterproductive. It's like watching porn your parents approve of. What's the point?
It's obnoxious. I really don't know what April Fools Day is supposed to celebrate. And I don't think anyone else does either, which means it never ends. It makes me think of every time I've walked down the street and tried to avoid a person with a clipboard because what starts as a pleasant conversation turns into a violent abuse of trust as they try to cajole me into signing whatever petition or buying encyclopedias or whatever. I'd rather talk to someone holding a severed head-- you are all people with a clipboard today. And that's sad. Because I do like people in spite of all evidence to the contrary.
So yeah. I'm totally sour grapes about April Fools Day. It's tiresome and I hate it, but you do you. If you enjoy, make it a good one, just keep it away from me.
Anything. Literally anything.
In case the title of this post was too subtle, today is like lemon juice in a paper cut to me which I'm sure people who know me may find weird because I love a good prank, I really do, but April Fools Day is the worst and here's why:
I forget. I forget April Fools Day is a thing so every year I wake up and start seeing random crazy posts on Facebook from people I don't know that well or haven't been keeping up with and believe this is what's going on in their life. Because why would you lie about being pregnant? Or getting married? Or getting a Doctorate? I can't even think of three less funny things, except North Korea saying they're going to take us all out followed by a "psyc!"
I hate forced fun. Ever been to a work Christmas party? Or a baby shower where they assign you a name tag of one half of a famous couple and you are then obliged to find your other half and "mingle"? April Fools Day is like that. The best humor is spontaneous and watching people try real hard makes me uncomfortable. Having a day where we're all officially "allowed" to make jokes is counterproductive. It's like watching porn your parents approve of. What's the point?
It's obnoxious. I really don't know what April Fools Day is supposed to celebrate. And I don't think anyone else does either, which means it never ends. It makes me think of every time I've walked down the street and tried to avoid a person with a clipboard because what starts as a pleasant conversation turns into a violent abuse of trust as they try to cajole me into signing whatever petition or buying encyclopedias or whatever. I'd rather talk to someone holding a severed head-- you are all people with a clipboard today. And that's sad. Because I do like people in spite of all evidence to the contrary.
So yeah. I'm totally sour grapes about April Fools Day. It's tiresome and I hate it, but you do you. If you enjoy, make it a good one, just keep it away from me.
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