Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Daily Joke 2 - Staying Healthy

Could transition from "Fat Kid" routine: 

Since I've grown up I get a lot of advice from people, but I'm so confused with all the advice I get as to what advice to take and what advice to ignore.  

Everyone has something to say about nutrition; "don't eat so many carbs," "don't eat so much fat."  Well what the hell do I eat, then?!  Everything, other than fuckin' air has either a carb or a fat in it,. 

There was a lady in my last work office that would always tell me that I need to drink less diet soda, because it puts weight on people.  This lady was probably 300 pounds.

Now don't get me wrong: I don't have anything against her because she's fat.  I'd be a real hypocrite if I did that, because I used to be a porky little shit when I was younger because of [Skittle Soup Bit].  

The thing I have a problem with is how cake-zilla figures she can give me dieting advice even though whenever she goes jogging she gets chased by bawdy Australians with dart guns?  Thankfully she jogs only when the planets align...oh God...2012...

People like that, who give advice even though they have absolutely no right or reason to, befuddle me to the ends of the earth.  This lady giving me unsolicited dieting advice is like a criminal who is wanted for murder telling a kid not to jay walk or he might get in trouble. 

Monday, March 28, 2011

Daily Joke 1 - Back in the Day

Starting today I'm going to bang out at least one joke a day.  This may be a one-liner, or it may be a full bit.  Some days I may figure out a one-liner and then try to develop it, later, into a bit.  I know a guy who used to, in an effort to become a better photographer, take one "Photo of the Day" (PoTD).  He eventually found a stupid fiance and stopped trying to take decent photos.  He would still put up a PoTD, but it would usually be of whatever knife he bought, or a gun, or ammo.  It was lazy.

A lot of my daily jokes will be bad.  I'm not doing it to amass a repertoire of jokes I can throw around, but more so to try to actually figure out my writing style, refine it, and just generally always try to come up with something better.

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"Back in the Day":

On the tops of most people's "what I couldn't live without" lists, is probably the internet.  Google, wikipedia, facebook, twitter, to name a few, are things that have become as commonplace as cars.  The internet is something that kids will grow up having, something that companies and people use to make their lives infinitely more convenient, and something we are starting to take for granted.  The internet has revolutionized how we learn and share information.  It has opened doors for endless opportunities.  For example:

*building expectation*

Has anyone ever seen An Officer and a Gentleman?  Richard Gere is in it, and it is about Officer's Candidate School.  I LOVED that movie.  I got my hands on it when I was 10 years old.  It was one of those movies that I discovered before I could really understand it, but I thought it was amazing anyway.

*pause*

If I had had the internet when I was 10, I wouldn't have had to wear out the tape by rewinding that one awesome minute-long sex scene over and over and over again, and then explain to my parents, later, why it is the only part of the movie that no longer plays correctly.

If I had had google, I could have loaded up my computer after watching that scene over and over and over again, typed "inexplicably stiff penis" into the search bar, and known what the hell a "boner" was.

If I had had wikipedia, I could have learned about the multiple uses for a boner, so I'd of been able to figure out jacking off before I was 18.

If I had had facebook I could go friend the actress in that movie so I could stare intently at her pictures at 3am until the delirium and lack of sleep makes me think I can see her nipples.

And if I had twitter: I could take all my newfound knowledge and tweet about my boners, becoming one of the many people with things so urgent that they can't wait to be shared with the world.  My 10 year old tweets would be every bit as crucial as most of the tweets done TO THIS DAY.

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I might develop this joke in other ways in the future.  Like, rather than being that adult that says "back in my day kids had respect" I can say something like "back in my day kids had to deftly steal their dad's nude-y magazines when he wasn't home."

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Losing My Job

I spent my previous Friday getting fired.  It was on the agenda eventually.  Invariably I leave all of my jobs because I'm not happy with them, but as I grow older I find that I don't have as much time to waste, and my performance got ahead of my nature.  In truth I didn't do my job poorly, as funny as it would be to joke about it.  I became the victim of office politics and a fragile ego.  These things happen.

Friday was rough.

I spent a lot of time thinking about why I got fired, and about the firing itself.  I didn't have any trouble figuring out who I should contact as soon as I got fucked though, and that was very comforting.  My weekend-of-suck continued on by me finding out, on Sunday, that I have to pay the government 3,700 dollars in federal taxes, and 366 dollars in state taxes.  It's cool, finding out immediately after you get fired that you owe lots of money.  That is Charlie-Sheen-Drug-Money.

Sunday was worrisome.

I have my best friend Birk to thank for cheering me up on Sunday.  We ate chips and drank beer.  Played some Rock Band.  I really miss that game.  Birk had work to do but made the time, anyway.  I really appreciated that.

Yesterday, and today, I don't feel so bad about it.  It's odd, even to me, but I feel more or less fine.  I owe money, but I can pay it back over time, and I can find another position.  I'm even giving myself a week to get completely settled and make sure that this isn't just me being out of touch with reality.  I'm often out of touch with reality, and its taken 25 years but I've learned to preempt myself.

Today is aiiight.

My comedy promoter (well, lots of people's) Dave has been taking great steps to cheer me up.  All of these cheer-ups revolve around mentioning that there are loose women that I can fuck.  He also mentions "with your no doubt huge cock."  I cracked-wise that "you know me all too well; nothing brings a smile to my face like becoming the first in a long line of mistakes of a young impressionable girl."  He has helped, though.  His ill-thought-out jokes about the situation make me see that this can be something that I can joke about, and that if it were truly dire, I wouldn't be able to.

I don't want to talk about the job-loss when people try to cheer me up.  Really, at this point I don't want to be cheered up.  I've told the story to so many people, and gone over it so many times, that it is just best to not even think about it outside of jokes that I might make about it.  Its not that I can't handle talking about it, or that it makes me feel bad when I do, but I hate explaining the same thing over and over again.  It's a pet peeve, and a big reason that I wouldn't be a very good teacher.

Tomorrow will be good.


Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Day

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Sunday, January 9, 2011

Order for Sunday, 1/09/2011

-End of Holidays/Christmas Time

*MAYBE do the cold-out-here bit, but limit it to a quick one-liner: "That's a pretty lazy way to have a conversation, and it would be great if it worked for stuff that wasn't the weather.  Say you're on a date to a movie theater, and a daycare for the mentally handicapped has gone on a field trip there, and they sit right next to you.  You're blanking on what to say to your girl, so you say: 'man, it sure is retarded in here!'"*

-"Speaking of retards: I was reading about Justin Bieber, recently..."

-"I've often fallen into the 'friend zone' and had to listen to my female friends talk about how frustrated they are with whatever guy they are after at any given time.  Because I love dealing with drama without any of that troublesome sex getting in the way.  Much like how I love vomiting when I'm sober.

They meet some guy in the gym, or at a bar, and I always hear the same thing: 'why are men so difficult to understand?!'  Like we are masterminds that speak in riddles.  They build these guys up like they're so terrifically complicated.  I'd like to take this opportunity to dispel this rumor that men are intricate like grand pianos. 

We are not like grand pianos; exquisite, refined, and difficult to learn.  Ladies: men are like harmonicas; simple, cheap, and if you blow in one end, sound comes out the other."

-"I shouldn't be too critical, since I'm not very good with women, myself..." *Do the "didn't kiss a girl" bit and the "baseball bat" bit.*

If I have any more time after that, I can dip into older stuff.  Facebook is always a good go-to.

Next couple o' Shows

So I signed up for a show on Sunday of this week, and then the 11th, next week.  I thought: "for sure, if I sign up for the show this Sunday, I'll rally and do a lot of work on my set, and have some new jokes."  Ha-ha, well I'm a retard and only have two.  I definitely want to use the Christmas bit, since it's brand new.  I like new, conversational stuff.
My biggest problem with the last show that I did was that I wasn't really speaking with the audience, I was speaking at the audience.  Reading from a script is no fun, especially if you're there to be a part of a conversation.

The Justin Bieber bit is going in there.  I like it a lot.  It's quick, non-committal, and topical.  I'm a big fan of all these things, since I have very little time on stage, and I have to make sure that either a. a bit lands, or b. a bit is easy to shrug off if it doesn't land.

Ideally I'd like to lay off of my "old" material for the majority of this performance tomorrow, and the one on Tuesday.  I think keeping stand-up fresh for me is even more important than keeping it fresh for my venue (both matter, though!).  If I don't get a kick out of doing it, then I'll lose my motivation.

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"So recently I was in the market for some porn on the internet, because I'm classy, and I came across an oriental porn titled: 'Korean Schoolgirl Fuck.'  I liked it: simple, to-the-point, not much room for interpretation.  The comments section was three pages long, and it was nerds arguing about whether she was Korean or Japanese.  It contained such riveting arguments as 'I watch a lot of anime, and therefore I recognize the Japanese language present in this video.' 

Someone followed that up with 'I'm asian and I take offense to this. We do not all look alike, whoever posted this video is a racist.'
At first I thought that disputing something as silly as this on a video that was made in someone's basement in Asia is a bit silly, but then I thought more about it, and I realized: 'what am I thinking?  Do I have no standards?'

I for one am elated that someone drew attention to the girl's nationality. As a gentleman of porn, there is no way I could jerk it to an improperly labeled video. The entire time I'd feel filthy, like I was debasing myself and doing something people would think is gross.

What sort of pervert would I look like if someone was on computer and found mislabeled porn in my meticulously organized porn database?  What if some anime enthusiast loaded this up, hoping to see some sweet Korean porn, and a Japanese girl was the one they were laying pipe on?  They'd think to themselves 'I thought this guy had an English degree, this is sloppy work.  As a professor of anime I give this labelling a C-.'"

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Getting Caught

Getting caught masturbating is a lot like waking up from a good dream. 

You've got completely unrealistic things floating around in your head, and right before the good part, you're cut off. 

It's impossible to jump back into that dream after you wake up.  Just like it's impossible to finish jacking off after your dad sees you with your pants around your ankles. 

And if someone sees you afterward and you're in a foul mood, you really can't tell them why.  It's really difficult to give a shit about: "oh I was just about to start flying in my dream and I woke up," if you weren't the one there.  Much like how "well I was about to splooge to some big booty bitches, and my dad saw me," carries little-to-no weight with anyone. 

Christmas Time

So we just made it through another holiday, did everyone have a good Christmas and New Year? 

I had a great Christmas; I got everything I wanted, and I really nailed it with the Christmas gifts that I gave to people this year.  It always feels really good to know that you got someone something they'll really like even if they didn't tell you what to do.  It's like solving a puzzle, or giving a deaf girl an orgasm.

(Hopefully there are no deaf people in the audience.  Hopefully also that if there are, that they are legitimately deaf and not pretending to be deaf because they know women love that.)

Sometimes this goes over fine.  Like when someone gives me something *I* really wanted but didn't ask for, I say: "oh wow, yay, I really wanted this."  However, sometimes your relatives make you feel kind of bad for buying them the gift that you did.  We've all heard: "oh, you shouldn't have."  Usually you can brush this off and say: "oh, you're worth it," or "yeah, I know, you're a terrible family member."

My grandmother doesn't let that sort of thing go, though.  I gave her three swanky gifts this year, and she said: "you are too generous!" 

Which is true; I am very generous.  You ask me for a dollar, I give you three.  You ask me for a cigarette, I will give you a birthday cake.

I said to her: "no, you're worth it."  Right?  That should be it.  My grandmother, with the coup de grace: "Oh, Matthew, you can't spend so much on me; you're a young man just getting started, and I'm an old woman on her way out."  Let me say that again, in different words: "Matthew, don't buy me gifts; I'm going to die."  Merry Christmas, and also: headshot.

Now I see the nobility in being selfless, but to pull out a bomb like that on Christmas puts me in a really awkward position.  I just have to kind of chuckle and say "ha-ha, I hope you like them."  Because I can't say: "oh, you're right, here, let me take those back." 

What would I tell the salesperson if I brought them back?  "Hi, yeah, sorry I'm bringing these back.  My grandmother really likes them, but she'll probably be dead soon, and I can use this money on gas and cheeseburgers." 

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Fuck it's cold!

Help me trim this down.

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"Woo!  It sure is cold, isn't it?"

I hear that a lot when people have nothing else to talk about, this time of year.  Picture this: you're at a bus station: it's just you and an old lady who is waiting for a bus, because it is a bus stop.  What else would she be doing at a bus stop?  Hooking?  Selling meth?  Don't over-think it, you guys, I'm making all this up.

You have nothing to discuss, but it's awkward to stand next to old people and listen to nothing except for the chilling silence of them slowly dying, so you say: "whew, it's cold out here!"  She agrees.  BOOM: you have communicated.

Not really, though.  It's like the illusion of communicating.  Like telling someone he is a person and having him say: "shucks, you're right."

(Say "it sure is seated" or some crap to the audience)

If only this conversational method of identify-something-obvious-and-then-describe-the-immediate-area-with-it worked for anything.  Like saying "woo, it sure is athletic out here" at your kids' boring soccer game, or "golly it is delicious in here" during an awkward date at a Chuck-e-Cheese between two 25 year olds.

Unfortunately, this method can turn on its owner faster than that horse turned on Christopher Reeves.  Too soon?  I'm being edgy up here, and I'm pretending "up here" is 1995.  Relax, he isn't here.

Example:  you're at your job at a school for mentally retarded kids, school's out, and you're waiting for one of the teachers to give me a ride home because I can't afford a decent car and my degree is useless.  Anyway!  You have to wait in the classroom, you're bored, so you look at the guy next to you and say "whewf!  It sure is retarded in here!"

One example is never enough.

Say you're lying in bed next to some troll that you just slept with while under the influence of alcoholic b-e-v-e-r-a-g-e-s.  You have very little to talk about, because she won't be interested in hearing about the mistake you made five minutes ago, and you have no interest in pie or Edward Cullen.  So you stretch out and say, "wow isn't it unfortunate looking in here."

 

Sunday, January 2, 2011

2011 is my year

I didn't make a New Year's resolution to start being a better comedian, or to update this blog more often.  My New Years resolution was to stop jerking off to pictures of car wrecks.  Ha-ha, kidding: resolutions are for faggots.  If you didn't have the motivation to enable yourself to change before January 1st, you sure as shit aren't going to be able to affect any meaningful change post January 1st.

Bring on the mangled bodies, because I'm horny and want to crust a sock.

I'm fresh faced after leaving my position with a certain wireless carrier, and I think that the life change will help me write more.  As evidenced by the fact that I've cleaned my room, and am no longer wallowing in the filthy shambles of my neglected hobbies.  I've been going to the gym a lot more since my job ended.  I know what you're thinking: "why am I reading this?"  And hopefully as an accessory to that: "you're probably going to the gym because you have nothing else to do since you're jobless."  Well, you're half right; I don't have much else to do, but I've always had enough free time to do what I wanted in the evenings and on my days off.

The problem was that regardless of what I was doing, I felt like I was wasting my time.  I dreaded going back to work so much that I figured all that I should do when I wasn't there was maximize how much I unwind, so that the next time I walk through those doors, I wouldn't want to murder someone.  My hobbies became burdens, my fitness became an obligation, and I didn't really take much joy in anything.

Granted, all I did was work retail, and some people don't mind it.  Some people enjoy getting to work with new people every day, even if each and every one of those people are intolerable.  Some people would be completely cool with a two hour round-trip to be at a place they can't stand.  Some people have the patience to deal with crap they don't care about.  Some people don't have the luxury of being particular about what job they work and whining about it on the internet.

I am not one of those people, and regardless of how much of a bitch I sound like, the bottom line was that I was genuinely unhappy.  It's difficult to make any positive changes, much less write comedy, when you get home livid every night.  I can attest to the truth of that statement firsthand.  It doesn't mean much coming from me since I'm the source, though.  Like if Jeffrey Dahmer said: "I sure didn't rape and murder people, you can believe me because I was there when I wasn't killing them."

When you hate where you are, the best strategy is to change where you are.  Derp derp.  I didn't change where I was in the smartest way.  I quit my job before I had another one lined up.  It's foolish, and it's unjustifiably the wrong way to handle things.  It has done wonders in making me happier, however.  For the first time in a long time, I've wanted to write, a lot.  I couldn't think of a better thing to do tonight after I exercised and showered than writing in this blog (except maybe save Virmire from Saren but sorry dawg I got home too late!).

I may get a job at my alma mater, shortly.  I find out this upcoming week whether or not I got it. I really hope that I do, because it will be a cunt punch if I don't.  But even if I don't, it won't be the end of the world.  2011 is going to be a good year for work, and a good year for comedy, because it has already started off great.  I sure am glad I wrote this for two, at most three people.  I include myself in this number.

Happy new year, you homos.  Hopefully it stays that way.