Monday, March 8, 2010

Of Stand-Up Routines You Will Never See Me Perform

Surprisingly, the popularity of Knock-Knock jokes has not been adversely affected by the advent of the doorbell.
"Who's there?"
"Doorbell repair man!"
"Doorbell repair man who??"

If I were Jesus I'd run the Rapture like a big game of Simon Says. "Come on, everybody get into heaven, now. Let's go.…HOLD UP! Haha, alright, all'a you fuckers gotta go to Hell now. Okay, Pete! Got enough room for the Jews, now. Let 'em on in!"

I just drove in from New York and boy are my arms tired! … Seriously, I think we stopped at every glory hole along the way.…Gas is expensive.

I actually came out here in part to visit a friend of mine. She's here tonight, so if everyone could just turn around and embarrass her right now we call all assure that I'll have absolutely zero chance of scoring with her tonight.

No, actually I have a girlfriend back home who I'm faithful to. She's really pretty … kind of an airhead but she's a real doll.…and by that I mean she's made out of polyvinyl acetate.

I love the look that comes over her face right before I do.

It's always so … surprised…. :O

Do you think cows go people tipping? I don't, but look at bullfights. So maybe.

Sometimes I think that I'm not depressed enough to be emo, and that makes me sad.

So I bought myself some horn-rimmed glasses and a woman's plaid shirt. They say, "I want to write you bad poetry," and "I think Streetlight Manifesto is totally not gay."

Now I'm so cool my pillow flips over to get to the other side of me.… I'm not even sure how that works.

Speaking of being asleep I used to hope that one day I could walk through my own apartment at night and not have to worry about zombies or ninja assassins. Nowadays I just figure if I'm about to be killed Austrian robots from the future will appear and save me. No, I'm not getting too much of an ego.

The zombies I don't worry about much anymore, but it's getting to the point where in my dreams I'm bored with the idea and just start taunting my subconscious. "Oh, a zombie dream? Alright. You never let your guard down? Well how about I zombify your friends and loved ones. Also, you have no guns. Oh, you need a knife? How about tiny Russian throwing knives? And you don't know how to throw those. Well just stab around blindly until you wake up. Then I'll make you dream you're naked in high school again. Fuck you, Dave."

One of my old roommates used to have a life-sized cardboard cutout of Xena he'd place randomly about the house to scare us. I knew her thin, pliable body said, "No," but her screen-printed eyes said, "I know you furiously masturbated to me in the nineties … and that makes me hot."

So yes, I like to fashion myself something of a sex-pert. I'm not accredited or anything; I'm self-taught.

They say most guys look for girls who remind them of their mothers. I'm looking for a short, twisted, argumentative and emotionally distant egotist. I'm looking for a girl like my father.

The last girl I dated was actually a semi-delusional insomniac, which makes me either imaginary or a rapist. I'm not sure which'd actually be worse.

My father once told me, after his third glass of whiskey, "Son, sexual attraction, in any relationship–even a brief one–is directly proportionate to emotional commitment…

… except in this case."

I said, "Wow, Dad! This is the best bar-mitzvah ever!"

"But could you please stop trying to set me up with my cousins? That's just gross."

"I mean they're from New Jersey…."

I like to be the smart one in a relationship, but I'd prefer not to be the pretty one.

I like tiny girls. I'm not that tall a guy, so I like to feel big around women. Having a huge dick just doesn't come up in conversation as often as you'd think.

Beyond that I'm really just looking for a girl who's not afraid to say, "I love you," or "Let's try it up the ass tonight.…Now bend over."

I've dated a big girl, who was very good with her mouth, probably because she was hungry. I've also dated a bulimic girl. She didn't have a gag reflex. I've dated a blond, a brunette and a redhead, a straight girl, a girl who said she was bi in order to attract men's attentions and a girl who really was bi because she was a complete whore with daddy issues. What I'm really saying is I just want to try all 31 Flavors.

Except tuna fish.

I'm actually a little worried about going to the doctor now. He's going to ask me if I'm sexually active and all I can say is, "Well, that depends on how long you take with my prostate exam."

And then I'll cough.

They say "an apple a day keeps the doctor away," but I find letter bombs are just as effective.

For the less extreme of you, the next time he asks you to drop your pants, just start talking dirty to him. If he doesn't immediately ask for a follow-up you're golden.

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