(no subject)
I am very smart and very funny. So if you find that you are not laughing, all that means is that you are not my mother.
I’ve been moving around the past couple years, and I’ve found a lot of differences. Take drunk people. In NY, you’ve got your average drunks that stagger along at ungodly hours in the morning after the bars close. In Illinois, the bars are only open till 9; and everything except borders books and music shuts down. So around 9:30, every drunk college kid wanders in and starts looking for a fight. Soon you have the gangs arguing over whether Moliere could kick Shakespeare’s ass. Then comes the violent poetry slam. But in Maine, my home, nothing is open, ever. So one finds drunks in the woods at all hours of the day and night, with large cups filled with whatever they can find. Barfights don’t exist, because there aren’t any bars. But we do have crazy woodland adventures. Who here drinks Poland springs water? You’re drinking my friend’s piss. Standing there, singing the Poland springs theme song, he pissed in your water. Then he tripped, fell into a pool of his own urine and passed out. We left him there. I think he got out.
I’ve got a small penis. And women love me for it. Think of it, if you have a big penis, you are impressive as long as you walk around naked. You don’t have to try hard at all. But those of us with tiny peniis have to work that much harder to compensate. If you’re an idiot, you buy a big car shaped like a phallus. Or play some sport where you are holding a phallic object trying to hit a testicle shaped object. But if you’re smart, you learn other ways to impress. And that’s why girls love me: Because I am a good masuese, a good cook, and I will buy tampons for you if you need them. I was smart about dealing with my small penis. I mean, look at Hitler. Small penis. Alexander the Great? Gay, and a small penis. Napoleon? Well, large penis, but generally tiny overall. They all killed, slaughtered, and/or conquered in an effort to make up for their penile issues. They should have just learned how to ballroom dance. They would have been much happier people.
I told my dad that last joke, and he got very defensive.
I heard on NPR that they are starting their begathon, where all they say is how great their music is and wont you please give them money? But they added something. For every 120 thousand they get BEFORE they start, they will shorten the begathon by a day. Apparently they realize that they suck at marketing, and they hope that the promise of less pitiful mewling will get people to pay them to shut up. But that got me thinking. The way all of this is going, pretty soon NPR, PBS, all of those, they will be so desperate for funds that they’ll start pulling crazy shit like taking hostages.
(act out)
Hello, valued viewers. We hope you are enjoying our wonderful programming today. You know, it is with contributions like yours that we continue to provide such excellence in broadcasting, with such shows as “what classical music hasn’t been done to death?” and “this old whore house: Renovating both building and body of Americas most worn out Bordellos.” Now, remember, we can only provide such informational, family oriented shows with funding like yours. And in thanks, we like to give shit back to you. For $50, you can get a canvas bag with our logo, for $100, you can get a pair of cat skin mittens. And for $500, Little Suesy gets to see third grade. Won’t you give and keep this little girl safe until next year?
So apparently Cats will eat you if you die. Fucked up, huh? Cheaper than a funeral, I guess. “Here grampy, happy birthday! This is from me and mommy!” (old man voice) “Ah, thanks susy. I’m so glad we didn’t let PBS shoot you. A kitten?”
-Who does that?
I’d like to just quickly say thank you for all my friends who came out here to support me. Especially my girlfriend. She’s smart, beautiful, and the best lay I’ve ever had. Lets give her a hand! (point to some random chick in the audience) Nah, I’m just kidding. They guy she’s with is very confused right now. (jock) “with him? You whore!” Its ok sir, (reading from a small card taken from pocket, as if by rote) I have never met this girl before, it was just a joke. (wink)
Everyone says they don’t understand women. That’s bullshit. Women are easy to understand as long as they are speaking English.
In Illinois, after a good night of drinking, you wake up in a cornfield.(act out) My mouth tastes like...ass. In NY, you wake up at 3 p.m. in an abandoned cab. (act out) Ugh…my mouth tastes like ass…and candy. In Maine, you wake up dressed in 3 different people’s underwear, strapped to the back of a moose. You don’t know where you are, who you are, who the nice lady giving you a piggy back ride is, but you do have minty fresh breath.
Whenever someone says “fuck you” I take it as a good thing. Think about it. If you sneeze, someone says “bless you” as in, “may god bless you.” So wouldn’t someone saying “fuck you” be like “hey buddy, I hope you get pleasantly fucked by a beautiful woman.” Makes sense.
People who misuse adjectives can suck my dick, and suck it good.
People who misuse adverbs can also suck my dick, and they can suck it goodly.
My grandma is a killjoy. She is a little old Irish lady… well, she’s French, but I cant do a French accent, so tonight she’s Irish. Whatever I say, she tells me I’m wrong. Whatever I do, I fucked it up. Even as a child. (kids voice) “Grammy? When I grow up, can I be a stand up comedian?” (grams) “Now why would you do that? You know, stand up comedians aren’t very happy people. You should do something like be a doctor.” I made the mistake of doing dishes, and I used the sponge in the sink. (grams) “what d’yeu think yer doin’? dinna be usin the show spunge” The show sponge? Turns out that’s the pretty sponge she keeps out if company comes over. What the hell? Do people admire a fresh sponge in the sink holder? Is it a sign of wealth or social standing? Did I miss a memo? I had to very carefully clean off the “spunge” and put it back, and start all over again using the “use sponge”. The next day my grandma’s friend came over. I heard the disdain when she said (pat) “he used the show sponge, didn’t he? Oh, millie, I told you that boy was bad news.”
So despite my impressively small penis, I have girl troubles. It’s been a constant thing. It got to the point that my father would check daily if I were straight or not. “You still like girls? Then do something about it.” This of course was when I was four. When I was sixteen, my godfather gave me the industrial size box of condoms. 128 condoms in varying colors, styles, shapes, and flavors.
I’ve been moving around the past couple years, and I’ve found a lot of differences. Take drunk people. In NY, you’ve got your average drunks that stagger along at ungodly hours in the morning after the bars close. In Illinois, the bars are only open till 9; and everything except borders books and music shuts down. So around 9:30, every drunk college kid wanders in and starts looking for a fight. Soon you have the gangs arguing over whether Moliere could kick Shakespeare’s ass. Then comes the violent poetry slam. But in Maine, my home, nothing is open, ever. So one finds drunks in the woods at all hours of the day and night, with large cups filled with whatever they can find. Barfights don’t exist, because there aren’t any bars. But we do have crazy woodland adventures. Who here drinks Poland springs water? You’re drinking my friend’s piss. Standing there, singing the Poland springs theme song, he pissed in your water. Then he tripped, fell into a pool of his own urine and passed out. We left him there. I think he got out.
I’ve got a small penis. And women love me for it. Think of it, if you have a big penis, you are impressive as long as you walk around naked. You don’t have to try hard at all. But those of us with tiny peniis have to work that much harder to compensate. If you’re an idiot, you buy a big car shaped like a phallus. Or play some sport where you are holding a phallic object trying to hit a testicle shaped object. But if you’re smart, you learn other ways to impress. And that’s why girls love me: Because I am a good masuese, a good cook, and I will buy tampons for you if you need them. I was smart about dealing with my small penis. I mean, look at Hitler. Small penis. Alexander the Great? Gay, and a small penis. Napoleon? Well, large penis, but generally tiny overall. They all killed, slaughtered, and/or conquered in an effort to make up for their penile issues. They should have just learned how to ballroom dance. They would have been much happier people.
I told my dad that last joke, and he got very defensive.
I heard on NPR that they are starting their begathon, where all they say is how great their music is and wont you please give them money? But they added something. For every 120 thousand they get BEFORE they start, they will shorten the begathon by a day. Apparently they realize that they suck at marketing, and they hope that the promise of less pitiful mewling will get people to pay them to shut up. But that got me thinking. The way all of this is going, pretty soon NPR, PBS, all of those, they will be so desperate for funds that they’ll start pulling crazy shit like taking hostages.
(act out)
Hello, valued viewers. We hope you are enjoying our wonderful programming today. You know, it is with contributions like yours that we continue to provide such excellence in broadcasting, with such shows as “what classical music hasn’t been done to death?” and “this old whore house: Renovating both building and body of Americas most worn out Bordellos.” Now, remember, we can only provide such informational, family oriented shows with funding like yours. And in thanks, we like to give shit back to you. For $50, you can get a canvas bag with our logo, for $100, you can get a pair of cat skin mittens. And for $500, Little Suesy gets to see third grade. Won’t you give and keep this little girl safe until next year?
So apparently Cats will eat you if you die. Fucked up, huh? Cheaper than a funeral, I guess. “Here grampy, happy birthday! This is from me and mommy!” (old man voice) “Ah, thanks susy. I’m so glad we didn’t let PBS shoot you. A kitten?”
-Who does that?
I’d like to just quickly say thank you for all my friends who came out here to support me. Especially my girlfriend. She’s smart, beautiful, and the best lay I’ve ever had. Lets give her a hand! (point to some random chick in the audience) Nah, I’m just kidding. They guy she’s with is very confused right now. (jock) “with him? You whore!” Its ok sir, (reading from a small card taken from pocket, as if by rote) I have never met this girl before, it was just a joke. (wink)
Everyone says they don’t understand women. That’s bullshit. Women are easy to understand as long as they are speaking English.
In Illinois, after a good night of drinking, you wake up in a cornfield.(act out) My mouth tastes like...ass. In NY, you wake up at 3 p.m. in an abandoned cab. (act out) Ugh…my mouth tastes like ass…and candy. In Maine, you wake up dressed in 3 different people’s underwear, strapped to the back of a moose. You don’t know where you are, who you are, who the nice lady giving you a piggy back ride is, but you do have minty fresh breath.
Whenever someone says “fuck you” I take it as a good thing. Think about it. If you sneeze, someone says “bless you” as in, “may god bless you.” So wouldn’t someone saying “fuck you” be like “hey buddy, I hope you get pleasantly fucked by a beautiful woman.” Makes sense.
People who misuse adjectives can suck my dick, and suck it good.
People who misuse adverbs can also suck my dick, and they can suck it goodly.
My grandma is a killjoy. She is a little old Irish lady… well, she’s French, but I cant do a French accent, so tonight she’s Irish. Whatever I say, she tells me I’m wrong. Whatever I do, I fucked it up. Even as a child. (kids voice) “Grammy? When I grow up, can I be a stand up comedian?” (grams) “Now why would you do that? You know, stand up comedians aren’t very happy people. You should do something like be a doctor.” I made the mistake of doing dishes, and I used the sponge in the sink. (grams) “what d’yeu think yer doin’? dinna be usin the show spunge” The show sponge? Turns out that’s the pretty sponge she keeps out if company comes over. What the hell? Do people admire a fresh sponge in the sink holder? Is it a sign of wealth or social standing? Did I miss a memo? I had to very carefully clean off the “spunge” and put it back, and start all over again using the “use sponge”. The next day my grandma’s friend came over. I heard the disdain when she said (pat) “he used the show sponge, didn’t he? Oh, millie, I told you that boy was bad news.”
So despite my impressively small penis, I have girl troubles. It’s been a constant thing. It got to the point that my father would check daily if I were straight or not. “You still like girls? Then do something about it.” This of course was when I was four. When I was sixteen, my godfather gave me the industrial size box of condoms. 128 condoms in varying colors, styles, shapes, and flavors.