I’m reading a book that has a lengthy piece by Bertrand Russell. I wanted to find out if the piece I was reading contained the idea of the celestial teapot. I had a split-second where my brain was trying to figure out where Ctrl+F was on the book. Is that bad?
With today’s technology enabling instant communications world-wide, shouldn’t the National Hurricane Center be anywhere BUT Miami? They can report from a bunker in an Iowa corn field and we’d never know the difference.
I signed up for a Twitter account back when I thought I was getting a BBy for work. Soon discovered you don’t need a portable to use Twitter. Still haven’t used it much, starting to post messages but I have no followers. I am broadcasting into a void. How pathetic am I? You should all sign up to Twitter just to make me feel like less of a loser.
Had two interesting thoughts as I quietly slipped back into Miami this weekend. One made me sad, the other made me frustrated and sad. I’m not sure if I’m sad at how people don’t get funny jokes or if I’m sad at just how much of a nerd I really am. I stopped at an inconvenience store on the way down and the clerk was busy doing a Sudoku puzzle. She was very sweet and we chatted for a couple of minutes. She asked if I am any good at Sudoku because she was stuck on one of them. I told her that I am only good at Binary Sudoku.
…Crickets…
I thought that shit was funny and all I got from her was a deer-in-traffic stare and fucking crickets. Sad. Maybe it was just over her head? Could that explain why she’s working as a desk clerk?
Speaking of over her head, the comedian Dennis Miller came up in conversation a few weeks ago and as three of us sat in the bar we defined his formula as a three-reference-simile bit. Name a philosopher or obscure French poet, name an 80′s pop culture icon, insert a swear word or say the word “babe”.
“It was like Kierkegaard wearing Madonna’s pointy bra, babe.”
We also defined Family Guy’s formula. It was much the same. Liquor makes us all smart and smug.
In my hour or two of freedom this weekend we got to talking about comedy (and Dennis Miller came up again…) and some of my friends recommended Ron White. I am aware of who he is but have never heard him. They say he is very funny and is very much my style. I’ve missed out on so much in the past because I avoid the things that look like I won’t like them. So I’m trying to overcome that and my friend said he was funny. So I iTune his “Can’t Fix Stupid” CD and I listen to it on the road. Here is the play by play commentary I recorded as I drove:
Ok, he’s obviously an established comedian, or he’s conceited.
Not very funny though is he…
I’ll bet I know this punchline.
Oh man, is he able to get a single line out without laughing at his own jokes?
Established AND conceited…
FUCK! He just paused for audience reaction. He actually waited for them to catch up!!!!
Man, this guy’s delivery is terrible. No sense of comedic timing.
Let me guess what THIS punchline will be…
Oh wow, PMS humor. How original. Did I enter a time warp? What year is this?
How much longer is this show? Can I turn it off now and still form an opinion?
Ok, that line was humorous. I liked that.
Where’s the punchline?
Saw that one coming. Word for fucking word, I was right again…
Viagra? Really, that’s your joke? PMS and now Viagra?
Wow, that’s an untapped comedy bonanza. What’s next, airline humor?
Ok… ok… ok… I’m following, you’re doing a LOT of set up dude. Oh, the joke’s over.
Where’s the fucking punchline!?
How do I get that hour of my life back?
Either I have seen too much comedy or they just stopped being funny. Have I ruined stand-up comedy for myself? Do I expect too much? I like intelligent humor but I like lowbrow humor too. Dennis Miller to Sam Kinison, George Carlin to Bobcat Goldthwaite, Bill Hicks to South Park, Lewis Black to Chris Rock. I have a wide variety of tastes in stand-up routines but I just didn’t think this guy was funny. I’ve heard (actually own) a Jeff Foxworthy CD and thought it was rather bland. The “You might be a redneck…” stuff is obviously stupid but even the rest of his routine seemed watery and weak. So when the Redneck comedy team got real popular I stayed away because I had heard Foxworthy, didn’t like it, didn’t want any more. I tried Ron White out because they said he was different from the rest and funny. I did not care for him. But I am glad I tried him out, now I can say for certain that I don’t like him at all. Not funny.
The part that scares me is the fact that I was told this guy reminds my friend a lot of me. Am I that lame? I know I’m not the funniest guy in the world but I don’t sit on stage and try to collect money for my stupid jokes. If my friends see Ron White and think of me, I need to change a few things. I love my friends and I don’t want to bore them to death.
Click, next…
iPods are dangerous while you drive but not for the reason everyone is saying. I have been building a giant playlist recently. Billboard’s top 100 from each year. I’ve got five years from the 80′s so far. It’s an expensive list to build when I realized that I stopped listening to pop music long, long ago so I’m having to buy a lot of these songs. Some of the songs I never heard of, some I outright hate. But I’m a bit compulsive so the list has to be complete.
Driving down, listening to the playlist and enjoying a few songs that I haven’t heard since they were hits. Some of them I barely remember but I’m singing along anyway. On my right a truck is coming up fast on a slow moving car just in front of me. I could tell this guy was going to change lanes right into my passenger side. Impact was imminent; the guy was going to swerve into my lane. Instead of me changing lanes or hitting the brakes, I reached for my iPod to click next.
I’ll be damned if the paramedics will pull my mangled corpse from the wreckage and see that I was listening to KC and the Sunshine Band. There is no god but if there were, he’d have the sense of humor to create an eternity for me to constantly live out the final moments of terror in my life. The running soundtrack would be “Baby, Give It Up” over and over and over like I was stuck in a roller-skating rink in 1983. Nanananananananow, baby give it up, give it up, baby give it up… Oh yeah, this is Hell!
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