People, people, people. Oh, people.
Look, I simply can’t be sitting here writing every damned day. I’d love to, but really — it’s just not possible. Not if I want to spend my Saturdays watching Law and Order and playing video games. And sometimes these things need to be done.
Well, maybe not ‘need‘, exactly. But it’s still a lot of fun, and a good way to wind down after one helluva week. I mean, it’s not an evening at the Playboy Mansion or anything, but still, it’s a change of pace. And I’ve got Manny hitting .400 in my baseball game, so things are obviously going well.
Anyway, I wouldn’t want to neglect you completely this weekend — or any weekend, for that matter. So, I managed to post a couple of clips from last month, including — really, listen up now! — a full thirty-minute set that I did in western Massachusetts on the 30th.
(Okay, okay — so it’s really only twenty-eight and a half minutes. That’s close enough, dammit.
Besides, if I’d gone the whole thirty, I would’ve had to include the two-minute bit talking about my penis and Abraham Lincoln. And really, does anyone need to hear that? Probably not.)
So, I’m pretty much taking the night off. But if you’ve got the itch — and the patience, and the bandwidth — check out a clip. Can’t hurt nothin’, right?
Or, aw hell — here are a couple of bits I’ve been thinking about; maybe you’ll see one of these in a clip one of these days. You know, once they’re all cleaned up and I find somebody to make them funny. Anyway, enjoy — if that’s really the appropriate thing to say.
Embryonic Bit #1: A girl at work found out that I’m doing standup. She said:
‘Oh, I don’t know if I could laugh at your jokes — I respect you too much.‘
So, I slept with her.
And she laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
Embryonic Bit #2: My parents were really strict when I was growing up. When I was twelve, my dad caught me sneaking a cookie before dinner. He made me eat a hundred cookies, to teach me a lesson.
When I was fifteen, he caught me with a cigarette, and made me smoke a hundred cigarettes, to teach me a lesson.
When I was seventeen, I snuck a girl into my room. And I sort of freaked her out; when she started performing oral sex, I yelled, ‘Daaaaad! I think you need to see this!‘
But he never came. And come to think of it, neither did I.
(I guess that was the wrong thing to say, really, but how the hell did I know? It’s not like I had any precedent to draw from. And that’s not exactly a ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ moment, you know? I mean, I’d turn it into wine if I could, but I’m not sure that would’ve helped, really.)
All right, that’ll do for now. Those blank, open-mouthed stares are all the thanks I need. Happy weekend, folks.Permalink | No Comments