As I spend another delightful night sitting around doing such fun activities as: eating baby carrots, watching episodes of 30 Rock, reading every word on espn.com, researching Peru while on the phone with Melissa (don't ask), trying to make my back forget I have been sleeping on couches for the last month, drinking water, pondering life in the Arctic circle, and researching how hair grafts work, I constantly have to remind myself of my mantra. "You chose this life. You chose this life. You chose this life. You chose this life." And even I must admit after the sixth time of saying it or so, it makes me laugh, because hey, when you repeat any word or phrase it just starts to sound like made up. E.T. style alient talk.
I have been doing some writing, and reading about writing, and watching youtube videos about writing, and learning Braille so that I can feel about writing, and listening to written works as read by former Cheers castmembers (if you get a chance, pick up The Stand as read by George Wendt((you know him as Norm!)) so that I can try and find my muse so that I might too write something other than a blog read by somewhere in the ballpark of 12.7 people (Actually I have no science to apply to knowing how many) and wonder why no one has offered me some cash up front to write a pilot or something. Then I figured it out: while I am in fact, pretty goddamned funny, I need a lot of people based humor...witty, sarcastic verbal barbs tossed into conversation, jabs about other people that are around, commentary on commentaries...that kind of stuff. That being said, I am not saying the fountain has run dry and I have nothing to write about. The fountain is actually needing of a larger bucket and some sort of disinfectant for the ladle everyone uses to get the water out of said bucket, since I have 24 years of life experiences and characters.
Today at work, for the first time ever in my life, I had a thought of a joke that could be used in some sort of standup act. And, since I do not foresee a standup act ever being my sort of thing, I thought I could go ahead and share my "bit" with you:
(while dressed semi-normal, yet with something ridiculous on, like some denim chaps)
"You know one of the things I always most looked forward to about being a standup? Dressing like a hobo who lived near an outlet mall that discarded haute fashions....You know what I'm talking about...remember that multi-colored number Sinbad always used to wear? And heaven forbid you get a special on HBO...think Chris Rock....ultra-shiny suit. When is ANY...and I mean ANY other occasion when you would glance in your closet and say, 'Man, I should totally pull out those denim chaps.'.......(points down) Ooooohhh yeahhhhh. I guess everyone says this (points down again, disgustedly) is how stadups seperate themselves. Grand. A guy with crappy jokes and a feather boa hookup is going to take over."
Reading it, pretty okay. But that is why I am not forcing my hand and trying out standup. Especially with a one lame joke routine.
Alright, I will bless everyone in the next couple days with some actual humor.
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