The best remarks are those that cause slight confusion. The receiver shouldn’t be able to distinguish if the remarks are heartfelt or ass-delivered. When you become an expert at sarcasm you can deliver barbs easily disguised when too stinging. Your “no” could mean maybe or yes, even. It depends.
Am I confusing you? Gee, I’m sorry. No, I don’t think you’re clueless at all. In fact, I find you exceptional.
Step one in sarcasm training is quite simple, yet crucial. Upon awakening, take your bowl of porridge to the family room and turn on the morning news. Pretend the anchors are speaking directly to you. You must answer every statement they make with two words.
“Today, Mitt Romney defended his position on taxing the rich.”
“There’s congestion on the ten this morning.”
“Gas prices reached an all-time high.”
“You should visit our Facebook page and like us.”
“I’ll be right back with the five-day forecast.”
Avoid using the classic phrase, “You don’t say,” as that one went out a few decades ago along with those pants you’re wearing … but they look really good on you.
Advanced sarcasticians have mastered the silent remark. For example, the next time you’re handed a thin paper cup with steaming coffee, the barista will probably say, “Would you like a sleeve for your cup?” Now, this low-career-ambition having mother fucker knows quite well that the cup paper is just slightly thicker than public restroom toilet seat covering, and you will definitely burn the shit out of your mitts if you say no. Don’t say no. Don’t say yes. Stare the eyebrow-pierced, tattooed dodo in her vapid eyes, clench your lips into a tiny grin, tilt your head five degrees to the left, and blink twice. She’ll get the message and hand you a sleeve.
Practice your sarcasm on first dates that you’re confident will be last dates–things I’m all too familiar with. What’s that? Oh, you’ve found your soul mate? Have you? You haven’t had many horrible first dates because you never stooped to the depths of online dating? Our loss. OK, I can tell you have a vivid imagination by your hair coloring, so use it.
“It says on your profile that you’re an author.”
“Have you written anything I might have read?”
“Well, that depends. Do you read anything other than masturbatory chick lit?”
“I don’t read chick lit.”
“Do you at least masturbate? You should.”
“Eh-hem. Where would I come across one of your books?”
“In the back seat of my Jeep. Perhaps I could come across your ass while you thumb through one.”
“Oh, I kid. Actually, I’ve never had sex in my Jeep.”
“Hey, that sounded sarcastic.”
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