God Makes Me Do It

This not making fun of people is a tough business. It usually goes something like this:

• Someone says something to which I would normally make a smart ass
  comment.
• Formulate comment.
• Decide if comment violates pact with Divine.
• When true, suppress urge to speak.
• Burning sensation ensues for 5 to 10 seconds. (Whilst in burning state, say short prayer to St. Aleck in hopes that 3rd person will properly comment on original statement. If 3rd person is lacking, think of Orson Welles naked - wait, that's for something else).
• After burning subsides, it's too late to respond anyway.
• Bitter sobbing ensues.

The urge is suppressed and the original speaker is blissfully unaware what an ass he is. It's killing me. Fortunately, I now have an outlet for all the sweet comments I've been wanting to make - this blog. Here are some choice responses I've had to hold back:

"Why? Does it help your hair grow?"
"It's kind of early for your 'Really Bad Joke of the Day'."
"There's a reason they broke the mold after you."
"I'm all for it as long as your socks match the color of your wife beater."
"The worst part is always the disorienting shame."