If you know me then you know I simply live for when people say their faces hurt so I can jump in with “it’s killing me!” In fact, that was the only upside to having my wisdom teeth out—the chance to be repeatedly zinged by my sister when I’d stupidly announce, through my vicodin haze, that my face hurt. (Even though I was the butt of the joke that time, I still appreciated it in the Platonic sense and respected the way my sister took advantage of my weakened state. I would have done the same.) Now my face hurts again for some reason and my dumb sister is on the way to Delaware and there’s no one to appreciate the way I keep accidentally setting myself up for the joke. I am so alone humorwise right now! If my face hurts and no one says it’s killing them, does it even really hurt at all?
Just recently came across your blog – and I must say you amuse the hell out of me.
Speaking for all of us, it is killing me.
Remember Uncle Arthur saying his feet were killing him and cut to a shot of him sitting on Sam’s couch with a gun somehow in each foot firing at his head—–or did I imagine that ep.?—-Chris M.
eets eh toomah..
Toddrod
It’s killing me! One of the best lines ever. Old as hell and one of the classics. And yes, I laugh when I’m on the other side of it too.
I just can’t bring myself to type it! I tried but…just go take a vicodin!
If your sister really cared about you, she would call you (often) and tell you how your face is killing her. Is that too much to ask of a sibling??
After all I went through growing up with 3 older sisters, someone telling me that my face is killing them is kind. My first response would be to ask, “Is THAT all you got?”