I have a chuckle bank.
It’s a collection of memories I call upon when I’m feeling in need of cheering up.
Thankfully, there’s always something in there when I’m feeling blue - I’ve done various silly things over the course of more than half decade on the planet, many of which you hear about in these emails, but last week I received an unexpected deposit from a friend we met for an Indian one evening.
I laughed so hard I almost barfed my biriani back up.
We were discussing pets, specifically cats and dogs, and who wins the Best Pet title.
Although I lean more towards dogs, I am also fond of cats.
Specifically, nice cats - not the ones who look at you like a restaurant critic looks at an Asda Smart Price pizza.
Kev, on the other hand, doesn’t have a cat-loving bone in his body, and our friend’s story validated his firmly-held belief that cats are wankers.
Our friend was telling us about how his cat wakes him up at some ungodly hour of the morning to be fed.
That alone would be enough to have Kev sleeping with a 12 bore by his bed, but our friend obviously has far more patience.
Apparently, his cat starts by nuzzling his hand (Kev visibly shuddered at the thought of that), then he’ll lick his hand, and if that gets no response, he’ll jump up on the bed and get up in our friend’s face until he has no choice but to get up and crack open the Whiskers.
We thought that was bad enough - being bullied by your cat and frogmarched to the kitchen to be it’s bloody butler - but on one fateful morning when our friend was particularly hard to rouse, the cat failed to get a response through hand licking and jumped up on the bed, only to find he’d landed on something soft and got his claw caught, like he was hitched on a woollen jumper.
The soft article in question wasn’t a jumper, though.
It was our friend's ball sack!
I howled with laughter as he described his worst wake-up call ever, fighting to get his terrified, flailing, hissing, snarling cat’s razor sharp claw out of his punctured scrotum.
I don’t think he realises his misfortune actually made it into my treasured Library of Laughs, but I’ll definitely be calling upon it in the future.
Everyone needs a Chuckle Bank!
In the journal we’ve created for our 90 Day Breakthrough programme, we encourage you to focus on good stuff.
When you’re tired, stressed and busy, you tend to forget your achievements and what makes life fun, and you spend all your time thinking about what you still have to do, and all the people who are giving you a hard time.
Yuk.
Maybe I’ll add a Chuckle Bank to our next edition which will be printed ready for our new 90 Day group intake in April.
“The 90 Day Breakthrough. More Fun Than a Cat Dangling from your ‘Nads.”
Catchy.