FUNNY AF WOMAN #5

Allison Epstein

I think history would have been more enjoyable if teachers could get away with calling Henri II a loser with a wonky dick who got shish kebabbed in the brain. Middle schoolers would pay attention.

1.     What were your life events that lead you to realize, “Hey, I’m pretty funny.”

Honestly, I’m still shocked every time someone tells me they think I’m funny! I’ve never self-identified as the “funny one”—growing up, I was always the quiet kid at the back of the room who desperately hoped no one made eye contact with them. (Honestly, I still prefer not speaking to people unless I have to.) If I’m funny, it’s truly to make myself laugh first!

My humor is very niche and very nerdy, and it’s not everyone’s cup of tea for sure, but my own dumb jokes bring a little happiness to my own day, which is why I started writing my humor newsletter. I literally didn’t think anyone but my dad would read it, but it’s been three years of biweekly newsletters and I’m still surprised and delighted whenever anyone leaves a comment that says I made them smile or that they read my newsletters out loud to their partners over breakfast.

If your reaction to this image is “why is that man’s neck three times the length of the average human neck,” Dirtbags Through the Ages may be the newsletter for you.

2.  If you’re in a partnership, is he or she funny? Was/Is humor a requirement?

I am currently extremely single, but I think my cat is hilarious. She’s nine pounds of fluff who thinks she could fight God and she likes to hide inside the oven. Jerry Seinfeld could never.

This is Mina, who doesn’t know I can see her when she hides under the glass-topped coffee table. She is a brilliant genius.

3.     Did being a jokester ever get in the way of school or work? How?

In fact, I turned it into a career for a while! I used to be a marketing copywriter, and I purposefully got myself put on every project that could conceivably involve a terrible pun or play on words. (If you want to sum up my sense of humor in one sentence, it’s “greater than your daily recommended allowance of puns.”)

I’m no longer in the marketing business, but I do still interrupt coworkers’ conversations once in a while with a pun no one asked for. It’s also proven to be a pretty good way of marketing my books, which is a surprisingly substantial part of being an author. Not everyone wants to read about the trials and tribulations of sitting at home alone revising a novel, but a surprising number of people are willing to read jokes about the Avignon Papacy that occasionally include links to Bookshop.org.

(Plus it’s helped me convince my publisher I don’t need to be on TikTok. I am the millennial version of Baba Yaga. TikTok is not where I belong.)

4.    Was anyone ever threatened by your humor?

I can honestly say I don’t think anyone has ever been threatened by me in any context whatsoever. I am a five-foot-four introvert who yells about Socrates semi-professionally and collects ceramic owls. Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair.

I love this picture because it looks like I’m getting ready for my 60-minute Netflix special but really I’m leaning against the wall of a Mexican restaurant and I don’t know what to do with my face ever.

5.     Can you tell me about a time when you couldn’t muster anything funny and how it affected you?

Candidly, 2023 was a real rough year for humor for me. I won’t get into the specifics because they aren’t funny and who has the time, but there were definitely weeks where I’d sit down at my Substack and think, “I’m supposed to make pope jokes? In this economy?” Usually I’m able to push through and get started, and once I’m writing, I generally feel better. It’s annoying medicine and I resent it, but trying to make myself laugh usually works.

There have been a few times I just haven’t been able to push through, and I’ve tried to be gentle with myself for those weeks. I might send out a half-newsletter that’s just like a bulleted list or that’s much shorter than usual. Once the whole newsletter was a note that basically just said “Sorry, no funny today, please come back tomorrow.” My readers have been super understanding and generous. And, like, I’m making Spongebob jokes about ancient Rome, not doing brain surgery. If I miss a week, we’ll live.

6.     Can you describe the type of humor you possess? Clever Wit, quick-with-a-joke, physical, goofball, aggressive, self-enhancing, self-deprecating, dark, observational, or one I didn’t think of?

Self-deprecating’s probably a safe descriptor, although at my therapist’s encouragement I’m trying to be less that! I definitely categorize my humor as “nerd humor”: I love words, and nothing makes me laugh more than doing something silly with language. Like, in my newsletter, the stories I’m telling aren’t always intrinsically funny, but words can make them funny! [*very Marge Simpson voice*] I just think that’s neat!

Plus, I think history would have been more enjoyable if teachers could get away with calling Henri II a loser with a wonky dick who got shish kebabbed in the brain. Middle schoolers would pay attention.

This picture is my sense of humor. I laugh every time I see it.

7.     Did your sense of humor change in the last 5 years? If so, how?

I don’t know that it’s changed, but I think I’ve gotten more comfortable with it! As a younger person I was pretty self-conscious about my humor. When you’re a kid, fitting in and being cool is everything, and I’m not the kind of funny that’s going to make the hot cheerleader want to date you. (I’m the kind of funny that makes the AP English teacher friend you on Facebook.) But the day I entered my 30s, I lost the physical ability to care if people think I’m a weird nerd. This is what you’re getting, buds. Buckle up or get off the bus.

I’m Allison (she/they), a historical fiction novelist, professional copy editor, and the nerd behind Dirtbags Through the Ages, a Substack profiling history’s worst and weirdest figures.

I’m the author of three novels: A Tip for the Hangman, my Elizabethan spy thriller; Let the Dead Bury the Dead, my 19^th-century Russian historical fantasy; and Our Rotten Hearts, my Dickensian retelling (coming 2025).

I’m @rapscallison on basically all forms of social media, which include Instagram (semi-actively), Twitter (barely and under duress), Threads (is Threads still a thing?), and probably anything else you try. Or just go to my website, allisonepstein.com, which has all the stuff there.

I live in Chicago with my 11-year-old homicidal maniac of a cat and entirely too many copies of the collected works of Shakespeare.

1. What’s Baba Yaga? Us old people want to know.

2. Ever try to pawn off your lessons onto a school district?

3. I love supporting Funny AF Women. If you know one or you are a self proclaimed funny gal, email me.