Is my humor really that complicated?
Apparently it is.
Reminds me of an old story:
An American and an Englishman are traveling together through England in the
Englishman's car. The car stops at an intersection and the American
observes a sign, which reads:
"Woolston-on-Rye, three miles left. If you are illiterate, ask the
blacksmith for directions."
The American cackles with laughter. The Englishman smiles nervously, and
says, "I'm not certain I understand what's so funny." The American, still
chuckling, decides not to embarrass his friend, and simply waves off further
inquiry. As they motor down the road, the Englishman repeatedly mumbles to
himself, "I wonder what was so funny?"
Finally, ten minutes later, the Englishman breaks into peals of laughter.
"I get it now," he shouts. "What if the blacksmith isn't home!"
- oldman