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 all up. 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.
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.
Miss Muffet grew up to market and sell successfully a line of tuffets which were supposed to be spider repellent. They didn’t work but she became a very wealthy woman. You can look her up on the web.
Now that I have your attention, I would like to remind you of the old addage that 10 whistles are made of 10. And that adds up. If they’re Roman whistles they are X-rated. And that adds up. And 789. And that adds up. And so does an abacus. Summation.
Everyone should have an evil twin. Or an evil triplet or two evil triplets, that’s one to spare. If you think an evil triplet would spare one.
I need a magicians assistant because the last one disappeared.
I am writing a movie about a man and a woman who try to make it in a revitalized vaudeville as a ventriloquist and ventriloquists assistant. Hope I’m not just up my own ass here.
Hello 911? The magicians assistant just swallowed a sword. He is asking if anyone is a doctor in the house. Oh never mind he’s telling a joke. I don’t think the timing is appropriate necessarily.
I mean the crowd is full of lawyers. Here to observe.
The ventriloquists assistant won’t cross the picket line of the magicians assistants. And that’s how the ventriloquists assistants were made to disappear by the magicians, bypassing the magicians assistant, who was nowhere to be seen. Had been informally replaced. A grievance was filed.
And now the ventriloquist has a lovely assistant.
I had a ventriloquist dummy but it was a mute. I try not to judge but it was dressed as a prisoner. It used to pass me notes through the bar. That is how I cheated on my legal certification. I’m certain. The things that dummy’s note said couldn’t be repeated. Certainly not by him.
Most ventriloquist dummies are not good listeners.
I was lucky in this regard, and was able to drink a glass of water in peace.
The day you could no longer buy leaded gasoline was the saddest day for every waiter in America who was dependent upon the “leaded” or “unleaded” joke whenever approaching a table to offer caffeinated or decaf coffee.
Now the coffee service was a hollow gesture. A mechanistic gruel.
But Broadway beckoned. And
“Leaded or unleaded the musical”
opened to pour box office. Which, trivially, was a joke in the first act.
During the intermission, the songwriter,
he used to be a waiter,
but that was back in the days when a man could get a cup of Joe,
without a lot of song and dance,
and brother that was a long time ago, he was jittery. Caffeinated. Like.
His name was Joe. Joe the waiter. Now Joe the songbird. And the play was full of double entendres and tongue twisters and, to tell you the truth, it was a little risqué. Which is French for right dirty, sister. So it did boffo box office.
“Insert two bits for a cup of Joe” was the third song in the first act.
The bits in question were old vaudeville sets, Marked up.
It hasn’t aged well.
For one thing young people today don’t understand they used to put lead in gasoline. To knock out the knocks, if one can believe.