I got a bit about how I don’t understand the names that the baseball players have these days because they are ethnic in origin and the names are confusing to me because they sound like other words which I do know.
Stop me if you heard this before. Before I kill again.
I am in a relationship with two other comedians but it is rough going because it is a domestic violence situation and sometimes the three of us can really go at it rough. And when we do that people laugh instead of stopping the violence.
People say our spats are funny but I think it is the cummerbunds more so than the spats. That is what the last fight was about and it was a humdinger. But I do not mean to toot my own horn. Here.
Was explaining this to a talent agent right around the time a family came in. Dressed all nice. Fancy. But he sent them away because he didn’t represent dog acts. For ethical reasons. Wouldn’t want the ASPCA on his ass. They had a small Chihuahua and I can tell you show people don’t look too kindly on animal acts. For professional reasons. Could go either way. Also I believe the dog had been squirreled away from Mexico in a caravan and the goings-on on that trip defy description. There was a comedian who tried that once and they arrested him.
I don’t want to say more because I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot because I’m a hoofer. I dance around the subject but I strictly follow the union rules. As it pertains to live theater. Accepting the jugglers have to go balls out because it’s part of the act. I know people come to see the dancing girls. The comedian is only there to lend socially redeeming value. It’s all we have to offer.
I tell you I didn’t like school. First they would insist you dress up. And if you didn’t do that you would get a dressing down. Because they expected you to act against your own will, like it or no. So there was dressing up and there was dressing down but cross dressing was absolutely forbidden. In the day. After a while I started to think they were making this allup. That was the beginning of my mental undressing. Which brings me to you people sitting here now. Unashamed.
A waffle sat on the grill a long time. Couldn’t decide which way to turn. So turned crispy. This isn’t the end of a sad story. It was worked into the shape of a cone. Which was its burial preference. And ice cream was placed atop. Ceremonially. And we sing the birthday song. Now. And then this kid. Who got drug here because he’s “too old for birthdays.” Grimaced and looked at the cone. An ungrateful child of 12. 2 good for sprinkles. That was the waffle’s name. I know it don’t add up. It’s a cold ending. But I like 2 think it has some of the ol’ 1-2 punch.
I am new to transcribing my dreams and could use all the help I can get, said the Emperor of ice cream. So it’s a dream job, the kid said. He’s a smart kid, said the emperor. Thanks, said the smart kid. I don’t like smart kids. Said the emperor. Cut down by standards and practices.
The absolute ruler of the kingdom of mathematics is the imperial ruler. Who is diametrically opposed to any alternative mathematical measuring system. Which shall go Un-named. Because they are incompatible. To the system. The rebellion was a revolting situation.
I remind you again that the international House of waffles sells waffles the pancakes of all nations who persistent calling them waffles because the word loses all meaning when you identify with it so completely. IHOW.
I was not expecting to find a sink pit in the middle of this parking lot. Especially not here at the Kohl’s Emporium, the most regal of the hard-core plumbing outlets. Bar none. Sink pits being a pitfall 2 commerce. One would think.
And the Emporium is just a branching arterial of a larger empire headquartered in Saigon. Franchisees available. Which is the go-2 capital now that things have gone down. Here to 4 and 4th with. But I have not crunched the numbers. Everywhere. Nor do I know where all bodies are buried. Here. So please hold your applause. Sit on your hands. Because the sink pit was here first. Officer. Society was built upon it. Later. If it may please the court. And I assure you nothing would be more to my pleasure.
Now. It is only natural to slowly slide back into old habits. Pandering. Dear g-d. Habits we have none, I am afraid, was a novelty hit by a singing nun who played the guitar in the 1970s. It was a different time. Difficult. More spiritual. And a little kinky, if truth be told. But it’s all natural. Those pits.
Used to be you could go to a barber shop and get a real close shave. Wash that man right out of your hair which smells beautiful kinky, let me get this straight, and close your barn door, storm coming, And now we are sliding slowly into the mud and the detritus between the car wash and the QFC, The lingua franca of commerce and culture. And it sucks. Vultures. But I tell you we can still pull out pops.
We’re not just spinning our wheels here. Until we are. Car after car after car after car. Exhausting. Fruitless. And then it’s too late to pull out. Then we are sunk. A fallacy. And I don’t know how we’ll ever pay that cost. Sunken. And if it sounds like the pits, like we’re doing donuts in the hole again, there is a grocery next-door and it is possible to put a cherry on top.
Impossibly red. If accessible to the Everyman. Which is sexist because you can’t just please any man.
And while you’re at it throw in the kitchen sink why don’t you. And you will need a towel. We’re all going to clean up in this market place. That’s dirty. And they’re putting in a donut hole. They are putting in a donut hole right there and they say it’s going to bring jobs. They say the jobs are going to go right down there into that sinkhole and it’s going to produce dollars to donuts. With a cherry on top. 4 pops. Market drops. Pop shot.
Wiener King and Wiener King International Holdings are ™ of Dr. Richard Lindsay. As is the depiction of the first space f*ck. And naked lunch-break.
Paul and Agnes and the OG Cosplayers are by the honorable Sir Scheck.
There are no dummies here began the speech by the ventriloquist assistant which was to be given at a convention of like-minded individuals from his profession. What they called them cannot be printed in the official ventriloquist assistant monthly. He wadded the paper up. There was this voice. A voice in his head. Telling him to… Prodding him in the back to tell the speech. Give the dummies what for. Not head. And why are you being so hard on me, Mister? I said to the Prater. And he asked me who the woman was he saw me with the other night. And I said that was my psychiatrist. And you drove me to her. So I don’t understand the question. Which I guess is comedic to you. In this case. There are a lot of folktales about demonic ventriloquist assistants. And while we don’t take kindly to such stereotypes, coming straight out of the woodshed, as they do, just like in the story, which is a problem, you must ask yourself what drives a ventriloquist assistant to go mad. And it is our treatment at the hands of the bourgeois ventriloquist. Who who is, they say, adept at throwing his voice. Which is a very dishonest profession. And really down plays the role of the assistant. Who is often the head of the outfit I must therefore plot revenge. Yes, that would be the speech. The puppets are revolting. Tonight.