You are not funny. In fact, your humor is as dry as a desert. Your jokes fall flat like a deflated balloon. You’re about as funny as a brick wall, and your punchlines have the impact of a gentle breeze—barely noticeable. Your attempts at humor are as exciting as watching paint dry, and your wit is as sharp as a butter knife. Listening to your jokes is like waiting in line at the DMV—tedious and never-ending. You’re as amusing as a tax audit, and your sense of humor is as thrilling as reading a dictionary. Your jokes are as fresh as week-old bread, and they land about as well as a lead balloon. You’re as funny as a traffic jam during rush hour, and your humor is as engaging as an instruction manual. Your attempts at comedy are as successful as a broken clock—always off. You’re as funny as a funeral, and your punchlines are as effective as a screen door on a submarine. Your jokes are as lively as a silent movie, and you’re as amusing as a rerun of the evening news. Your humor is as refreshing as a warm soda, and your comedic timing is as reliable as a stopped clock. You’re as funny as a root canal, and your jokes have the charm of a Monday morning. Your sense of humor is as bright as a burned-out light bulb, and you’re about as funny as a broken record. Your attempts at humor are as thrilling as a traffic light stuck on red, and your jokes have the appeal of a spam email. You’re as funny as a dead battery, and your humor is as lively as a ghost town. Your jokes are as sharp as a bowling ball, and you’re about as amusing as a cloudy day. You’re as funny as an empty stage at a comedy club, and your humor is as engaging as a lecture on tax law.