I’m an angry man. I’ve learned to diffuse it somewhat by being the first to laugh at, well, anything. I also rush to make jokes, perhaps too irreverently and “too soon,” people will sometimes say as they slam the door behind them.
When, for whatever reason, the ancient history of my high school years comes up, my first instinct is to break out the pedophile gags. This is likely because I’m not terribly funny and in need of new material, and, I guess, it’s my way of dealing with the fact that I went to a Christian Brothers school in Sydney where several of the brothers were prone to diddling the kids.