Arafat is dead. Comedy is hard.

So, last night I made a little joke about Arafat not being dead yet. I posted that at 7:37 PM, and Arafat died at 9:30! YIKES! I hope I didn't cause his death! I mean, I realize that things I do or say have no bearing on the life and death of sickly Middle Eastern leaders, but I also "realize" that wearing my lucky sweatshirt during even numbered innings doesn't have anything to do with how the Atlanta Braves perform. And yet, I do it anyway. So, on the off chance that what I said ended up killing Arafat, no more jokes about those guys.

Although it's worth a try:

Q: How is Bin Laden like Fred Flintstone?
A: Both may look out their windows and see Rubble.

Yuk yuk yuk. (I didn't make that up, BTW, it was forwarded to me in an e-mail.) So, anyway, if Osama ends up dead or captured tomorrow, you can thank me later.

So, yeah, doubtless I had anything to do with Arafat's death, and it just proves how hard it is to try to be humorous and timely. Family Circus has it right -- stick to 1950's humor, and you can't go wrong. You can't be funny, but you also don't cause people to die!

In case you were wondering, the caption to the second comic in yesterday's post was, "Enough! This is a lecture, not a debate!" If you mistakenly thought it was "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again," you are confusing Billy with Buffalo Bill. Don't fret. It happens to me all the time, too. Especially since they have a dog that looks like Precious! Pree-cious! Pree-cious! Now I am just creeping myself out.

Good night.