comedy, Selfish

Text Massage

I got married to my comedy partner and divorced in the same show. Then I went out drinking. Then went home at 2am to pack up and leave again on a train to get on a plane to go to Minnesota for two actual weddings. I am in Minnesota now.

This last week has been hectic, which has led to me forgetting to find a place to stay or a ride from the airport that I landed at 8am in this morning. I quickly texted all my friends still in the twin cities including a girl who has changed her number since I last had it.

Here’s how the text message conversation went:

Me: Just got into town, call when ur up if you wanna chilldown

Her: Who is this

Me: H2$

Her: No really. Who’s this

Me: This is H2$. Is this Syreeta?

Her: No. I have no idea who nissie is

Me: ok, sorry, person must have switched numbers

Then I realized that this was an excellent opportunity to fuck with this dickwad who couldn’t spell my name despite it being spelled for him

Me: do you wanna hang out anyway? Im in minnesota.

Her: What! How did u get my number. How can I. I live in Indiana

Me: Let’s meet up halfway. Chicago in 3 hrs. Lets meet at the pizza place across from the field museum

Her: Why would I do that when I have NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE!!!

Me: it seems like we would get along. I know a bunch of us are playing outdoor bocce on wednesday, if u want to come

Me (Con’t): Ill bring the weed. ūüėČ

Her: U r different

Her (Con’t): Where do u go to school *Presumptive*

Me: Dude, you know me, i always said school was for sissies, and I stick by my guns

Her: No. I don’t know u. Are u a boy or a girl

Me: also, before I forget, check out the article on shark week in the huffington post. Its your two favorite things – nature videos and liberal propoganda

Her: I hate those things!!!!

Me: I guess i was confusing you with someone fun. Ill see you at coffee news! Lol

The impersonability that technology has left us with is fun and hilarious.

One of the kitchen staff at work asked me to write a nice text message to this girl he met on the subway because he didn’t speak English well enough. This is what I said:

When I cry it smells like I imagine it would smell like to make love to you.

comedy, Indignant, Socialism


Competition doesn’t just frustrate and frighten me. Competition shuts me down. When I am in a situation where someone else wants me to compete, I actively try to be the worst.

Part of this is because I love defying norms so much that I will actively pursue the opposite action of what is expected me. Part of this is because competition is a terrible driving force. When one gets competitive, one desires the failure of others. Thats stupid. You’re stupid. This blog entry is stupid. I’m gonna take it down a different path.

There is a standup comedian performing in the back of the restaurant I’m sitting in who still thinks that all Black people say: “Say What?!”

He’s really bad and stupid and racist.

I’m not sure which pisses me off most. Obviously the racism is worst, but how influential is that racism? None. None influential. Nobody is looking to him for an understanding of how to live their life because nobody wants to be a 45 year old bald man screaming “Say What?!” in the back of smelly cafe. How influential is his stupid? A little. The fact that he’s stupid might make people frustrated because they want to teach him. His badness is really influential. His badness is awful. I have to listen to him. I have to hear how bad he is. He is affecting my environment.

I am so much better of a comedian than him.

I win.

comedy, Death, Depressed

Depression and Death’s Hilarity

I love¬†Garfield¬†minus¬†Garfield. It’s one of my favorite websites. I recognize that it is a simple concept with sometimes very overdone jokes, but c’mon:

Watching a medium of comedy used for simply depressing ends is hilarious. It’s because expectations are thwarted and comedy is about surprise. I love surprises for the most part. I love surprise nights of misadventures, I love surprise parties.

I love all surprises except surprise death. That shit frightens me. My biggest fear is drive by shootings despite the fact that I have spent most of my life in rural Maine and St. Paul, Minnesota. Drive by shootings are frightening because despite their rarity, the awfulness of them is so awful that their expected value of awfuality is awful. It’s a multiplication thing, don’t worry about it. I am obviously very frightened of death because it means the end of life, but the idea that it ends with no reason is really the scary part. And in a drive by there might as well have been no reason because I will never know the identity of my killer and I will just die alone with no idea of why. And that makes me sad.

I want to cry in the third panel of my life.

comedy, Death, Gender, My favorites

The Rule of Three, Transitions, and Death

Candy and medicine are flavored the same. This is why two people can taste the same thing and one can say “eww this tastes like medicine” and the other can say “yum this tastes like candy.” The distinction is only based on preconceptions.

Example: A dude tastes a drink – it is pink: “Ewww. This tastes like medicine.”

Example: A guy who loves claiming his¬†open-mindedness¬†tastes a fruit beer that has an emphasis on the fruit part – “Yum, this tastes like candy.”

Example: My dad tastes a piece of vegan bark/bread that he thinks all of my friends should try – “Wow, this tastes like candy and steak. You would love this.”

My dad is an¬†lovable¬†dope mixed with an angry indignant mixed with a lot of homemade tofu. He’s who I both look forward to becoming and who I desperately fear becoming. All of this comes out best when he calls me with questions on “his facebook.” Questions like:

“Who’s this person on my facebook? How’d they write all this stuff on my facebook?”

“How come your friends are always playing with my facebook?”

“This woman wants to be friends with me, but I don’t like her. What do I do?”

The last one is a reasonable facebook concern. I recently was thinking about friendship requests from people who need not request friendship and wrote this:

“Adding you to the audience of my blog so that I can know when you release a new hot track for free is not us being worth uncomfortably connected after you go through a shitty breakup with my friend who I am not quite close enough with to indignantly defriend you through claims of loyalty.”

Loyalty is silly. I like support. I like to support others who I am friends with and I like when my friends support me, but forced support is obnoxious. I don’t want someone supporting me who doesn’t want to support me. I recently supported a friend who would definitely qualify as someone whose boyfriends I will not friend for fear of the last sentence becoming true. Between songs this happened:

Person A (singer): “I’m gonna play this little diddy.”

Person B (audience member): “You’re a little diddy.”


Person A: (Tunes guitar)

Person B: “In a good way.”

Me: Fuck you. First off you are horribly unclever. Had you been insulting I wouldn’t have said that because at least insults demand a certain level of cleverness, but you weren’t at all. This brings me to point #2. What is the good way of being a little diddy, and more importantly, what is the bad way that you feel came through so clearly that you had to apologize for your horrible indiscretion.

There are no quotation marks around my line because I am the gender neutral definition of a pussy.

Of course there isn’t really a gender neutral definition of a pussy. Which is too bad. I would like to see there exist one before I die, but there won’t. We can’t forget the past and we can’t stop using pussy as a term to describe vagina. All of these short pieces were things I wrote on a folder I was carrying around one day. They all relate to death.

a) Candy and medicine are the things you have as a child and a dying person respectively. It seems as though the longer we strive to look at things as candy the longer we will not be a dying person.

b) I don’t want to become my dad because that means I’m closer to being a dying person.

c) That audience member wasted so much of my time as I had to complain in my head about her. I am so much closer to being a dying person because of her.

Okay, so maybe they don’t all relate to death that well, but I am definitely scared of being a dying person.

comedy, Gender, Indignant, Media, My favorites, race, Socialism

Conservative Bureaucracy

America’s Got Talent might be the worst show to ever exist. When I say that, I don’t mean that it is the least entertaining (According to Jim got 8 years of television time), and I don’t mean to say that it is badly produced (It is, but that’s not my point). I mean to say that is the most actively harmful show to ever be in America.

As Lady Gaga is finally proposing weirdness as a goal worth aspiring to in the pop culture world and Taylor Swift offering the opposite – a boring cliched approximation of what other’s have already said, but this time as a different overly small white chick – we have to start taking sides. This is more than (but definitely somewhat influenced by) sexism, and racism – but this is at it’s heart a battle for or against change. By letting ourselves fall into society’s booby trap of xenophobia we are accepting our world the way it is despite the fact that all good things have come from changing to something new. (Great article about how shitty Taylor Swift is)

I find it interesting that anti change is at the center of all of the talking points of the right:

1. Keep marriage the same as it has been.

2. Keep poor people poor, and rich people rich (aka- capitalism).

3. Keep women in the kitchen and the bedroom.

4. Keep people of color in different neighborhoods so that we don’t have to look/be scared of them.

5. Evolution doesn’t exist.

I guess this isn’t interesting, but rather obvious. Liberalism is defined as desiring change, and Conservatism is wanting things to stay the same, but it frustrates me that people can buy into Conservatism. How can anyone feel like the best thing to have happen is to have nothing new happen?!? Fuck our world.

Fuck America’s Got Talent.

This guy gets on and is doing something weird. Something new. Something possibly shitty, but possibly really interesting. They don’t even let him do his thing because they don’t like new talents, they like cute white boys pretending to be urban and aspiring to shitty shallow morals because it’s less dangerous when the kid’s dad is a CPA. The show demands that we only like things we’ve already seen before. And it tricks it’s fans into thinking that. It’s fans are mindless citizens of a¬†dystopian¬†future where no one is allowed to voice creativity unless they fill out the appropriate paperwork to make sure it fits some structure of creativity that has been previously determined acceptable. It’s interesting that liberals are the ones who get accused of being too into¬†bureaucracy, when it’s conservatives who are demanding a form of social and cultural bureaucracy that is all encompassing, and that’s not as obvious.

Attention Whoring, comedy, Selfish


I performed twice the other day.

In one performance I was telling a story in a hospital waiting room about my love of Mr. Rogers. In the other I was arguing vehemently while waving my penis around. Both performances went well which brings me to my point: Anything can be enjoyable.

There are so many ways to say what you need to say that are still good. There is no formula to greatness. This annoys me because I like formulas. So I refuse to admit this and instead will find a formula. Have fun.

This makes me sound really annoying. I’m not sure I don’t like that.

I’m annoying.

I’ve been annoying most of my life, and it’s treated me well. I wasn’t annoying when I was a kid because I was too shy to talk much, but I always liked the kids that were “annoying.” I started thinking of it as a compliment because being annoying meant that that person was interesting and willing to say things that wouldn’t be meant with blanket approval.

I, surprisingly, did not have ADD or ADHD or any other acronym that said something was wrong with me. I say “surprisingly” because everyone assumes I did or do have it. I sort of have adult ADD, but I think it’s a choice. I think I chose to have ADD. It’s more fun. It’s more annoying. Being annoying means that you are pushing people into new realms of emotion. You are frustrating people, and if there’s one thing I like more than being annoying, it’s being frustrated. So, I consider being annoying a form of charity – I am getting people to experience emotions that they wouldn’t experience otherwise. And experiencing as many emotions as possible in as short a time span as possible is the purpose of life.

comedy, Socialism

I Get Paid for What?

I’m gonna get on a subway, go to some woman’s house, and spend an hour with her explaining that adding negative numbers is the same as subtracting. I’m gonna walk away with $45.

I’ve spent weeks rehearsing, discussing, advertising and writing/re-writing what I think is a brilliant sketch show that analyzes sex, bodies, grossness, and me sucking tits. It’s really fucking clever and smart and every other good adjective I can come up with. I will make far less than $45.

People don’t respect comedy. No comedy movie wins at the Oscars, yet it is the hardest art to create. It is the only art where you are forced to get a reaction at the time of presenting it, otherwise you’ve failed. Nobody watches a comedy, sits¬†stoically¬†throughout and then goes home and says “I think I can see where they were coming from, that was really great.” If you weren’t laughing, it wasn’t succeeding. And yet, laughter can’t be the point. Good comedy means you were presenting something interesting, something relatable, something that will cause people to think, but as a side note you are forcing a¬†guttural¬†reaction from your audience. No other art has as hard a task, yet comedy still refuses to be acknowledged as difficult.

We’re charging $10/ticket ($7 online) and that is the most we have ever or will ever charge. Theatery plays get to charge $20-40 a ticket. An hour of me telling you that standard deviation and standard error are different costs $45. This world doesn’t understand what’s difficult. I think we still pay people to do the things that we don’t want to do. We all want to do comedy, we all want to make people laugh, so we refuse to admit that what people are doing is too hard for us. No one has any desire to discuss the normal curve or research Brechtian methods of dealing with a monologue about homosexuality in the 1950s, so we pretend that the reason we don’t do it is because it’s too hard.

It’s always been my problem with teaching math. I never feel like I’m doing anything because most of my job is just therapist – convincing the person that they can do math and that they should try. Well, I’m taking the opposite approach with comedy. You can’t do comedy, it’s really fucking hard. All those people that have been laughing at your jokes are just being polite, and weird voices are not actually funny.

I feel like I can blame this on capitalism somehow.


Betty White is Overrated

I’m a liberal. I’m also surrounded by liberals. The thing I think we are accused of that is most valid is that we love the victim. I don’t see anything wrong with that though. Rooting for the underdog is fun.

What does piss me off is when people decide they are rooting for the underdog, but don’t actually do any research as to who the good underdog is.

I like Betty White fine. She’s a funny lady. She has had this huge spike in popularity lately though because people have decided it’s cool to like old women who can be funny – as though its soooooo rare and she’s the only one. Sure, Joan Rivers has gotten some of the praise she’s deserved as part of this oldwoman fever, but where’s the love for Phyllis Diller? Bitch was fucking hilarious and she was old when she was on the Ed Sullivan show. She’s now 93 and is a constant on Comedy Central roasts being much dirtier and funnier than Betty White’s “hilariously offensive” stuff on SNL.

I don’t want to say negative things about Betty White, I just feel like this hype is undeserved and she’s become the poster girl for old women doing comedy despite the fact that she’s.. eh. Her SNL was not the best SNL of the season, Baldwin’s was. She is not the reason women were allowed into comedy, Joan Rivers is. She’s not the only old lady willing to make a joke about her twat, a lot of people are.

People think that olden times were such different times, and in a lot of ways they were. Fewer offensive things were allowed on television, and Lenny Bruce, and to a much lesser extent George Carlin helped that, but that doesn’t mean the people were that different. People still fucked. People still felt awkward about fucking. People still masturbated and felt self loathing. People were people and we forget that.

So my advice is next time you see an old person tell them a dirty joke and discuss with them the shame you felt last time you tickled your twat or played with your penis. They’ll love it. And they probably have better stories about it than you.

comedy, Depressed

Burn Victim: A Joke.!?;

The other day I burned my finger pulling a muffin out of the toaster. I only touched the muffin, but the muffin was so hot that it created a large blister of burning on my thumb. I’m not going to talk anymore about how I fingered a hot muffin because I have important other things to talk about. I thought this was the worst pain I could deal with because I am a large festering bag of unable to deal with pain.

Yesterday I went to Coney Island for the Mermaid Parade. That’s right – Mermaid Parade. I usually hate parades. This was awesome. I am now literally in the worst pain someone can be in though because I am also a festering bag of stupid unpreparedness. My face is bright red, my arms are bright red, and my dick is bright red too because I comfort myself and distract myself from pain with pleasure.

Why am I writing this? Because I wanted to give you the context under which I could make a bunch of inappropriate or stupid jokes about my situation.

1. I can’t imagine anyone who has a worse life than me. At least those people in Darfur can’t get sunburned.

2. This is the most apeeling my arms have ever been. Because I have very little muscle mass and the skin on my arms is peeling.

3. I’m in so much pain that I leave a trail of tears wherever I go – like a redskin.

4. I hated rednecks so much in high school, but now I stand in redfaced¬†embarrassment¬†because I am one of them. Because I’m poor.

5. Here’s a love poem. Roses are red, I’m more red, why do roses get all the credit for being red? Have you seen me lately? I’m really red! I’m way redder than roses. This is bullshit, stop talking about roses, use me in your love poems!!

comedy, Indignant, Media, My favorites

Fartin’ Fetus

I find myself often struck with having to make the decision as to whether something is horrifying or hilarious. I can thank horrifyingly hilarious comedian/blogger who has a show tonight for vaguely leading me to this image:

It’s horrifying that they prey on our emotional attachment to cute things to convince us of a political stance that has nothing to do with that thing that is so cute. This is a fetus. It is not a cute little baby. Beyond that, it is trivializing the importance of the person birthing that fetus – it says nothing of the life she has and how she would like to vote. There’s another side to this. What if the ad said “Six year olds vote for more cookies.” I’m sure this is something that most six year olds would agree to, but this is why we don’t let six year olds vote – because our taxpayer money should not be¬†funneled¬†into amusement parks and juiceboxes. This is why my idea for a child rights poster is stupid. Similarly, an unborn baby voting is silly. They can’t hold a pen, and they definitely can’t walk into a voter’s booth. Is that baby writing on the inner lining of its mother’s womb, and how did it get a highlighter, and its eyes are closed how does it know what its voting, and how is anyone else gonna know, is someone gonna go up there with some camera and check what it voted for, and is that invasive, and how much does that cost, and is that gonna be funded by taxpayer money, and what if the procedure hurts the baby, what if it causes the unborn baby to die? Well that would be the most ironic death ever.

Also: “Unborn Baby.” When you look up baby on Wikipedia it redirects you to infant. That’s because babies are born, you can’t have an unborn baby. It makes it sound like they are zombies in backwards land on opposite day. I’ve taken the liberty of correcting some of their errors in my new version of their advertisement:

Or, we could just try to combine all of their hypocritical views into one: