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Hi, I'm Sophurky ~ your editor for this edition of the Comedy Newsletter. This week we'll talk about the wonder that is physical comedy ... in other words yes, I fell down again! 
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FALLING DOWN
One evening last week I was getting ready to go to a book group so of course I was wearing my Anne Klein glasses which make me look cute AND smart. Before I left the house I wanted to carry an empty glass to the kitchen and I was dragging my feet as I usually do, not watching where I was going -- so of course I tripped over the dog who was lying peacefully on the floor minding her own business.
Now for you animal lovers out there more worried about the dog than me let me reassure you that she was fine (very smart dog, she didn't move a muscle once the fall started). I, on the other hand, trying to avoid injuring my dog, flew over her and onto the floor, face first, knocking the empty glass I was carrying into my glasses, which shoved my glasses hard into my face.
So of course the first thing I did was check is to see if anyone saw me fall -- since I live in a home with only one other person (the famous Bob of the previous issue) and he was upstairs, only the dog was my witness. WHEW! Next I checked to see if I'd broken anything -- miraculously neither the glass I was carrying, NOR the glasses on my face, were broken. I was sore, my pride was wounded, but it appeared that no glass objects or bones in my body were broken, so I prepared to get up and go on my way.
Before I got up I took off my glasses and set the empty drinking glass down (which I was still inexplicably clutching it) just as Bob came by and saw me lying on the ground. To his credit his first reaction was NOT to laugh, but to make sure I was alright. I sheepishly admitted that I tripped and fell (and again, still to his credit, he did not laugh) and I say yes, nothing seemed broken -- then he noticed there was blood all over my face (the nose piece on my glasses cut my nose in two places, which I didn't know yet) and calmly told me he was going to help me get up so I could go clean the blood off my face.
Now I don't know about you but when I discover that I am bleeding from any kind of wound, I lose it. If I don't know I'm bleeding I'm fine -- I get up, dust myself off, check for broken bones, and go on with my day. But as soon as I realize that I'm bleeding, whether I see it for myself or someone politely points it out, I totally freak out and start bawling hysterically. Because in my mind I equate blood with, I don't know, something serious? Death maybe? So I limped off to the bathroom, turned the light on and VOILA! There was blood all over the right side of my face.
So I tried to clean off my face while sobbing hysterically. We discovered the two small cuts underneath all of the blood which had already stopped bleeding (the blood was probably terrified by my hysteria and thus clotted immediately) and ascertained that I didn't need a trip to the ER, so I tried to pull myself together so that I could still make it to my book group (which I really wanted to attend since I had actually read the book this time). But I was still gasping and gulping and sobbing about my recent trauma, so Bob offered to drive me to the book group, which was very sweet of him (and more than makes up for his lack of nursing skills when I get sick -- again referring to my last issue of the Comedy Newsletter).
We drove the few miles to my friend's home, with me trying to take deep breaths and calm down so that I don't arrive red-faced and sniffling, a sure sign to my host that I had been crying (which I didn't want them to know, obviously, because then I'd have to explain why and I was too embarrassed to admit tripping and falling over the dog). And I pulled myself together enough that I managed get through the book group just fine with no one there finding out about my fall.
Fortunately, none of them are members of WDC, so my secret is safe with you all, right? 
Sophurky
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Below you'll find some comedy offerings from other WDC members, some that involve tripping and falling, some that are just fun embarassing moments:
Here are a few from a recent "The Writer's Cramp" prompt:
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And a few more from around the site:
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And finally, some other types of embarrasing moments:
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Have an opinion on what you've read here today? Then send the Editor feedback! Find an item that you think would be perfect for showcasing here? Submit it for consideration in the newsletter!
https://www.Writing.Com/go/nl_form
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Now for a few comments about my last newsletter about being sick -- seems I really struck a chord with many of you, in particular regarding my comments about how helpful useless men are when their woman are ill.
From Thomas 
Ummm, is there a non men-hating version of the comedy newsletter this week? 
*cowers in the corner at the wrath that is sure to come*
No wrath -- just a hearty belly laugh! And for the record, I LOVE men!
     
From faithjourney
Oh, the tales we wives could tell. My sympathy margin of error maxes out at 2 days with my hubby. I remember one time I was cleaning the birdcage and he said "you're sick, don't do that." I brightened. "Are you going to do it?" I asked. "No," he replied, "but it can wait until you get better."
Go figure -
Now THAT made me laugh, literally, out loud! Thank you for sharing that, how perfect, lololol!
From Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ 
You are soooo right, Sophie! Men are babies when they are sick. You are also correct in saying it is much easier to get whatever we need by ourselves than to expect the man in our life to get it to us in a timely matter. I have learned my lesson years ago, when my ex offered to make me a grlled cheese wth bacon sandwich.
"Oh, I was suposed to cook the bacon before I grilled it with the cheese?!!!" After taking one bite of the raw bacon with melted cheese, I decided never to get sick--EVER, again!
Great Newsletter! 
Ta,
WW
Well, um, at least, as they say, it's the thought that counts?!? What a funny story, thanks for sharing it with us!
From DRSmith 
Hey... allow me to share a little secret about ALL them things you mentioned above....it's why you've been married for 22 years, and will likely post a ditto or two. So next time, just throw a shoe to get his attention. It won't hurt much, and you'll feel better about losing another bite of your sandwich. Works everytime. Who loves ya baby? He do.... ah, second thought... we ALL do.
Awwww thanks so much for the helpful advice -- tho I need to be careful with shoe-throwing as some countries arrest for that.
From pooja_sr
Well, well! Your newsletter was indeed an eye-opener, I never knew men could coo. LoL.
Keep up the good work, gal!
~PooJA
P.S. Could we switch husbands?
Well maybe not all men coo -- lol. Tell me what your husband is like and we'll see about a trade! Just kidding, mine's a keeper (unless your husband is George Clooney, that is)!
From Ralph
Hiya,
Sophie's bit in this about being sick and her husband's goofiness is pretty funny. We men are sort of babies about being sick perhaps, but... that is because we are trying to learn golf, and fixing... WORD PROBLEMS... and, ... maybe sometimes we don't think. Solution: he sits right by her sniffly bedside and irritates her with channel changes on the remote, hornyness, stupid jokes; inabiity to cook much of anything good to eat. Then she shoo's the poor guy away so he can get back to golf and... SOLVING WORLD PROBLEMS?! Sincere congrats on the 22 years; that is really very cool; sniffly one! You tried golf?! Child birth is nothing, golf is harder!
A good time to slink away,
 R.R.
HAHAHAHAHA! You are one funny fellow, thanks so much for sharing your thoughts -- you make several excellent points, tho I suspect all of the women who have given birth may be out to get you now!
That's all for this month -- see you next time! And on behalf of the other regular Comedy Newsletter Editors, Robert Waltz  and Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ remember to WRITE AND LAUGH ON! Sophurky
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Comedy: April 22, 2009 Issue [#3006]
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