-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.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
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.
------------------
"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-.'"
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.
------------------
"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.
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."
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.
----------------
"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."
----------------
"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.
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.
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