Illustration by Simone Massoni

At some point, you may have thought, I wish I was funnier. But not in a lame, mainstream Hollywood way. Not funny like the guys in sitcoms who make sarcastic quips. I wish I was weird-funny. I wish people told stories about me. Did you hear about the hilarious thing that Mike did yesterday? He rode a cow through Central Park. He went to a Trump rally as a joke. He got “NSync” tattooed on his back.

I wish my life was a series of memorable, alternative-comedy moments.

It’s not as hard as it seems. Here are some tips:

As a warmup, spend a few hours a week in a senior citizens’ home. Never let on that you’re there as a goof. In order to make people think that you’re a real volunteer, actually help the patients. Get to know their children and their grandchildren. Earn their trust. Then, after eight or nine years, give a long speech about the intelligence and precision of the Japanese Army during the Second World War. The old people will hate it, but they’ll all be in wheelchairs or whatever, so you’ll be fine.

After you stop volunteering at the senior citizens’ home, get the most normal job ever. The more normal, the more hilarious. On most days, stroll in a little late, with your hair parted down the middle, and say, “Sorry I’m late. I was just livin’ on the edge. Are y’all Aerosmith fans?”

Your colleagues may think that you’re joking, but you should actually be a huge Aerosmith fan. It’s funny only if you find a way to do it in earnest.

Mess with everyone by putting a whole roasted pig with an apple in its mouth in the break-room fridge. (Before you do this, become a great cook so you can prepare the pig yourself and carve it for everyone.)

Memorize your co-workers’ favorite conversation topics. Discuss these with them, and let their knowledge genuinely impress you. This may sound difficult, but once you’re in the alternative-comedy groove your questions will flow naturally. If you become invested in your co-workers themselves, and therefore in their answers, they will never figure out that your presence at the office is a gag.

Identify the least cool secretary in your joke workplace and ask her to have lunch with you every day. Make a genuine attempt to get her into hip-hop. Pick a terrible local rapper and take her to every one of his shows. If you can trick a loser secretary into loving hip-hop while convincing a crappy rapper that he’s actually got fans, that’s a two-for-one alt-comedy joke. Andy Kaufman would be jealous!

Marry the secretary—the ultimate goof. But, to make sure that she doesn’t suspect anything, really fall in love and give her your whole heart. Make up nicknames for each other. Have silly traditions. The whole deal. Trust me, if you can manage the little mental trick whereby you actually love her so much that you’ll do anything for her, she’ll be none the wiser.

To heighten the joke, have kids. Raise them as if they aren’t a gag. Love them and tell them that they can accomplish anything, all the while kind of winking to yourself, thinking, I can’t believe they’re buying this crap.

If you really commit to being a full-on weirdo, your years of pranking will pay off in a hilarious indie-film-style ending on your deathbed. You’ll be surrounded by co-workers from your fake job and your wife and children from your hilarious joke marriage.

One final prank: tell the people gathered at your bedside that you meant every word you’ve ever said to them, and that you love them. And, again, if you want it to be really hilarious, mean it. Then chuckle to yourself and die. ♦