When I was a teenager, I sometimes wrote humorous essays.

I'm sure I still have some of them in box somewhere, but all that stuff is in storage. I also remember one of the speeches I gave in speech class which had the whole class howling with laughter, including me as I was trying to talk. The speech teacher gave me a good grade on the speech, but he recommended that I should try to be a little more formal, and keep myself from laughing while giving the speech, to keep a mostly straight face while telling the story.

I don't remember what the assignment was - I just remember that I ended up telling a horrible story about some kid throwing up on the school bus. I'm scared of vomiting, so if someone else vomits, I don't want to hear it, see it, or smell it.

I remember describing in detail to the whole class about how the vomit was on the floor of the school bus, and the kid who threw up was somewhere behind me. So when the bus went down a hill, the vomit was running forwards on the floor under our feet, so we were lifting our feet off the floor and keeping our knees pressed against the seat in front of us to hold our feet up off the floor.

And I can't remember the details, but I described how the bus driver responded to this. I think he actually TOLD us to just lift our feet up off the floor, as in, that was the advice he gave to us for how to cope with this problem, as we just kept on driving while there was vomit running up and down the floor every time we went down or up a hill or around a curve. Like, this is all perfectly normal, just lift your feet up and everything will be okay.

People were opening the windows so we didn't have to smell it.

The class was laughing constantly while I gave my speech. I wasn't able to keep a straight face at all.

My humorous essays or stories were usually about some kind of disaster. Once, I wrote about having a really bad day, and it was a true story. I wrote every detail of every little thing that had gone wrong that day, and they were silly things, but I don't remember any of it. It would be the kind of thing, like, you notice your shoe is untied, and you bend down to tie your shoe, and when you stand up again, you crack your head on the sharp edge of the open cupboard door. (I originally wrote the 'corner' of the cupboard door, but I decided to change it to 'edge,' because a corner is just too much.) I would write about how it all started when I didn't want to get out of bed that day, and how it all went downhill from there.

As a matter of fact, I'm STILL kind of telling those true stories.