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A while back (1 year, 6 months, and 7 days ago) I wrote an entry entitled “Advice From Chocolate.” It was a scientific study of the sayings on the insides of the wrappers to Dove Dark Chocolate Promises. I went through a bag of the chocolates and kept careful track of what each saying was, what order I pulled each saying out, and how many of each saying there were. The short version for those with no desire to wade through the rather lengthy previous entry is that there were 41 chocolates in the bag and 19 different sayings represented.

Earlier this week I was in a mood for chocolate (hey, guys have comfort foods, too!), so I bought a bag. While I love dark chocolate, I’ve been on a milk chocolate kick lately, so I bought a bag of Dove Milk Chocolate Promises this time around. The first saying was very familiar, and my low-level OCD kicked in again. I didn’t keep track of the order this time, just the frequency of the sayings. I’ve listed them below with my thoughts, and have starred the ones that appeared in the previously tested bag of chocolates. The number in parenthesis is how many times the saying showed up in this bag.

1. Be fearless (2) – Forget bungie jumping – eat a bag of chocolate and don’t worry about your arteries!
2. Sing along with the elevator music (3) – Okay, but only if it’s “My Heart Will Go On,” because I don’t know the words to “The Girl from Ipanema.” Wait – did I just reveal I know the words to “My Heart Will Go On”? Carp. Disregard that.
3. *Remember your first everything (2) – I will never forget the first time I nearly bit my tongue off nor the first time I put a rusty nail through the side of my foot. This is my promise to you, Dove Chocolate!
4. Get your feet massaged (5) – Ewww. No. Nor will I have them bitten. Nor encased in ice. Just – no. Stay away from my feet.
5. *Go to your special place (3) – I suppose I could go to another Cowboys game this year…
6. Listen to your heartbeat and dance (3) – But… dancing would increase my heart rate, which would then increase my dancing rate, which… Dude! I just ate a bag of chocolate! Are you trying to kill me??
7. Buy yourself flowers (1) – Alternatively, poke yourself in the eye with a sharp stick. Or provoke a skunk. Or get a cat that bites you constantly. These are all about equal.
8. *Make your eyes twinkle (5) – If the Borg can do it, so can you.
9. *Send a love letter this week (1) – “Dear Winona, You’ve stolen my heart…”
10. *Smile. People will wonder what you’ve been up to. (2) – OH MY WORD CAN WE RETIRE THIS PHRASE FROM THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE ALREADY? ARGH!
11. Smile before bed. You’ll sleep better. (1) – It will also make the bedbugs wonder what you’ve been up to.
12. Sometimes one smile means more than a dozen roses (1) – And sometimes one restraining order means more than a dozen cans of pepper spray.
13. When two hearts race, both win (2) – Unless they’re racing to the finish. Then both lose.

Those keeping track will notice there were fewer sayings this time around (13 vs. 19), and fewer chocolates in this bag: 34 now vs. 41 a year and a half ago. Further, those same people will notice the above list only totals 31. This is because I gave three chocolates away and did not want to explain why I wished to have the wrappers back. Regardless, this trend of 7 fewer chocolates per bag every year and a half is not one I endorse.

Also, observant readers will notice that “earlier this week” wasn’t that long ago and will surmise that I ate 31 chocolates in the space of at most 4 days. In reality, it was more like 2 days.

What can I say? I needed a lot of comfort this week, I guess.

Either funny things don’t happen to me anymore or I’m just not enjoying life like I used to. Whichever it is (and I suspect it’s the latter), I’ve done a lot of serious and pseudo-serious posts lately, so I thought I’d take a little break and share this with y’all.

At the end of our improv shows when the score’s been tallied and the winning team announced, the players get called off one by one. There are a few different ways that happens. One is “Chariots of Fire,” where the theme song is played and we attack each other in slow motion until our name is called. Another one is “Rapid-Fire Joke Cavalcade” (or some variant on that name), where as our name is called, we step up and tell a quick joke before leaving the stage.

It’s funny to see everyone scrambling for a joke to tell once we’ve been told we’re ending with that. Really, how many “one-liners” does a person know? Not that many, as it turns out. And it’s gotta be quick – no sloth jokes here, thank you. Groaners are allowed, too, and some of us specifically aim for that. Aside from the Norman Bates joke I told a while back, I tend to stick to one theme for my ending jokes:

Cannibals.

Sure, cannibalism in real life is no laughing matter. Frankly, I think it’s because it’s so not funny that jokes about it are funny. I’m sure you’ll disagree and be disgusted by these, but this is the pool of cannibal jokes I draw from, depending on how I feel that particular day. “1C” means “First cannibal,” and so forth.

1C (arriving at the feast): Am I late?
2C: Yes, everyone’s eaten.

—–

1C: Your wife makes a good roast.
2C: Yes. I’ll miss her.

—–

1C: I hate my mother-in-law.
2C: Well, try the potatoes.

—–

Q: Why don’t cannibals eat clowns?
A: They taste funny

There you go – my favorite cannibal jokes. Remember, kids: cannibalism is bad. Don’t do it!

It was one of those “so stupid it’s funny someone would even do it” things. We were in the computer lab and Jack B. started typing on two different keyboards, one per hand.

Jack: Eh? Eh?
Me: Uh…
Jack: Stereotyping!
Me: *groan … into laughter*

That was in college, years and years ago. Still, though, whenever someone says the word “stereotyping,” that’s the image I get.

People like to deal in stereotypes – it helps them have some sort of handle on whoever they’re dealing with: “I know this person and everything about him because he’s very obviously a biker.” We compartmentalize and assume, based largely on appearance or actions. It works in reverse, too. If I say “socialite” or “skateboarder,” you immediately form a picture in your mind and have an idea of what that kind of person fits in that group.

Some of us even try to fit into a particular sterotypical box. You see this a lot in teenager groups (goths, jocks, nerds, etc.). I myself have gone to great lengths to put forth the image that I’m a “geek,” the game playing, the pasty white skin from avoiding the outdoors, the love of computers, the pile of worthless trivia, and all the rest.

Thing is, just like typing on two different keyboards at the same time, stereotyping people is ultimately pointless. Rarely does anyone fit the complete stereotype, so the stereotype doesn’t paint a complete picture – it’s more like a caricature, emphasizing some parts and diminishing others. The label doesn’t allow for change or growth. Since I don’t like to go outside, any idea that I might do so at some point in the future is laughable. Since I don’t like to drive, the idea that I might take a weekend trip should be looked at skeptically.

It’s my own fault. I’ve worked hard at fitting the stereotype, so it shouldn’t surprise me that people look at me through that lens. But what about others who’ve been assigned a label, maybe even one they don’t want? There’s not a whole lot a person can do except live outside the stereotype.

Do it long enough and people might eventually figure it out.