Of course, if someone hurts me or my body, it’s not funny. I get mad, no kidding. But that’s if it’s me. If it’s someone else, it’s funny. Why? Because me—that’s me; and him—that’s not me, it’s him. But the Oldeners say: Oh, horrors! How could you! And they don’t understand that if everything went their way, no one would ever laugh or have any fun, we’d all just sit at home all gloom and doom and there wouldn’t be any adventures, or dancing, or squealing women.
